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j££££IMIlMEI«Qgktn£  EVEJOS. 


THE    PROPHECY  OF  OUR  NATIONAL  GREATNESS. 


I  soe 


Freedotns  established  rcisii;  cilics  and  men, 
Nuiiiefoiis  as  sands  upon  the  ocean  shore, 
Aiideiii|>ircs  rising  where  the  siiti  desceixds! 
The  Ohio  soon  sliall  ^Itde  by  many  a  town 
OfNol-e!  and  where  ihc  Mississippi's  stream. 
By  forests  shaded,  hoav  runs  sweeping  on. 
Nations  shall  Qiow.and  slates,  not  less  in  fame 
Than  Greece  and  Rome  of  old!  V\e,lee,shall  boast 
OtirScipios,  Solons,  Catos, -sa^'cs,  ehiefs. 
That  in  the  lapse  of  litnc  yet  dormant  lie, 
M^ailin^'the  joyovis  hour  of  life  ai\d  li^jhl." 

Philip  lYeueaii,  the. \incrican Poet  in  177^. 


ITS     FULFILMENT. 


/i  -»., 


O/ie at/iwiiv  ('/'////.xvuntiy  nvfultnr  in  if.m'cu/tfi ,  aifn'c/i  /niM/un^ rtiaiKhiMi'ihiny 
/(•/I  t/fYu;>,  f>ut  ///  Hic  inciv/i.>f  if'i't.t  /upnlntion,  ii  ln'rh  /j  rt  r/i  inorr  i  <i/iiolili  f/iaii  ff<</(/oiid.n'/i  rr 
/ff/.i  fitvii  .n\  timet  ///(>/■(•  Hian  ■  /nruUri/tiin,  nine  tiiiM'.i/noiv  tfiaii.  -iinfrin,  ten  timed nirir  ffuin 
^miin'.tiin/i.yfk'.^titMf/ fcffiicusii /iuiii/iT</iiii//ii'ft.uit titc  nif/ oftiietrtttnty:  (i/ifi,l)rifo/i(/it 
(iariifjti(mid/i'Of,iitit.i/iouri;init.iffirnn/cun/'/iit.t  ffnifrir/nlrmfuii it,>i-i'.)('nnr,),  ij/ /fj  ttifioci 
tic.)  fint/iiiit.)  iyt/it/tw//t/rj,(t'/////  /)  f/ort'f/(>tf///f7J///t  tfi//rfv//ft*^ 

■  Jnv//  f/if'/ft /f  fir/'f/f/if,  fi-(un //HJi/ntdi/i  tr) /fu<tJi/fain,  /rrm/.-Hlaittif  t(>'/'nii/i(',//r'in/ttni 
lirnthfiiiwird.  /iaine fcftw (/(•/(ion  fjotc. Itir fittiiir  f>f' l/ii,>(tir/if (rmiinf, if'cfi/if firiif/(ii/r,(4'/\) 
{/fm/Mtirr  utif/ritjitiifiifi/icacf.  .i/iall f/iiitif  if.  .)//nii/)r/)rt/<'////t/ie/f/vt/y///r/if'/7m///M/f/r.     _ 
tHtf(iii(/(iiiiitr(>v(i.stlinliiiifin(irtn'ni(/(iefi^i',ortiiatiinftnii(fiti'  mi)('\fUTJ.\^'^ 

V/t/r (•aite//n/a/,  Jmii'tTjan/  </ itiv  firc/omfioit  o/',Jii(Je/iCN(/r/ttv  wi// fiiifi u.i. (i.^rnicii 
/iir/niti(ui.rm>fpizin<f  t/N'  fimi/triJtlhH>f'tft(il iiiiinoii(ilJiatfn(t(-''iHtrtn 

o,)t/H'  iirr/(/,(ijiti  rimtal  (i.t  ttir  .i/nr.),  it  iff/  (ifuyo/urilif  t/tai  diid//  ('c/i/i.ic  in  //ir  r/ittair  ail  //if 
i'fif/i/tr.)/  ///orii :  >  af  'tiir  fh.  V ,'  " 

I  la-  7W.ni/(ttf('(>f^h\ ' 


I  T     ' 


OUB  FlEST   CENTURY: 


BEING  A 


POPULAR  DESCRIPTITE  PORTRAITURE 


OF     THB 


ui^3{m|tel  ^m\  ml  l){i|nt0i;affl^3|^ji|ii{ 


OF  PEEPKTUAL  I^'TEEE8T 


IN  THE  HISTORY  OF  OUR  COUNTRY, 

[Political,  [M^ilitary.  M!eclianical,  Social,  Scientific 

and  Commercial: 

EMBKACIIfO    ALSO 

DELINEATION'S  OF  ALL  THE  GREAT  HISTORIC  CHARACTERS 
CELEBRATED  IN  THE  ANNALS  OF  THE 
REPUBLIC  ; 

Men  of  Ileroism,  Statesmanship,  Genius,  Oratory,  Adven- 
ture and  Philanthropy. 


By    H.    IVT.    DEVENS, 

Member  of  the  Historical  Society  of  Pennnylvania,  Author  of  Jppletons'  Commercial  and  Business   Cyclopedia, 

Lives  qf  Washington,  Napoleon, and  Wellington,  ^c,  Ifc. 


Splendidly  Illustrated  with  Several  Hundred  Plates,  Portraits,  and  other  Embellishments. 


PUBLISHED   BY 

C.  A.  NICHOLS  &  CO.,  SPRINGFIELD,  MASS. 

HUGH  HERON,  CHICAGO,  ILL. 

1878. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1876, by 

C.  A.  NICHOLS  &  Co. 
In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


x5t'\lo. 


tuk  clark  w.  bkyan  companv, 

Electkotyper,  Printers  and  Binders, 

springfield,  mass. 


"Columbia,  great  Republic!  thou  ait  blest, 
While  Empires  drop,  and  Monnrchs  sink  to  rest." 


GLOKY  OF  THE  AMERICAN  CENTURY. 


KAJSTD  and  impressive,  beyond  all  that  is  yet  written  in  the 
Er  f.  Volume  of  Human  History,  will  be  that  transcendent  Chapter, 
which  shall  unfold,  in  philosophic  narrative,  the  birth  and  onward 
march,  iu  greatness  and  power,  of  the  Republic  of  the  United  States, — the  completion 
of  its  First  Century  of  mighty  national  development  in  Political  Liberty  and 
Free  Civilization,  and  the  momentous  relations  of  that  development  to  the  interest, 
progress,  and  destiny  of  mankind. 

A  task  so  stately  and  magnificent  might  fitly  engage  the  pen  of  a  Bancroft,  a  Motley, 
or  other  historiographer  of  kindred  fame;  for,  surely,  no  power  of  mental  grasp  or 
of  historic  portrayal  inferior  to  theirs,  could  adequately  set  forth  the  resplendent 
advances  and  triumphs  of  Human  Illumination  —  wide  streaming,  wondrous, 
beneficent,    energizing, —  on    this   western    continent,    and   under  the   inspiration   of 


DEDICATION. 


liberal  institutions,  during  the  Century  of 
the  American  Republic  ;  a  country  which, 
when  it  first  clothed  itself  with  the  pre- 
rogatives of  sovereignty,  numbered  but 
thirteen  feeble  States,  with  three  million 
inhabitants,  occupjnng  the  small  familiar 
strip  of  territory  lined  on  one  side  by 
the  Atlantic  ocean,  and  on  the  other  by 
the  Alleghany  ridge,  but  whose  vast  out- 
lying boundaries  are  now  watered  also  by 
the  great  Pacific,  the  gulf  of  California, 
and  the  Arctic  ocean, — comprising,  in  fact, 
a  continental  chain  of  zones,  sweeping,  in 
hemispheric  magnitude,  from  the  moun- 
tain crests  of  eternal  snows  to  the  region 
of  perpetual  flowers  ; — its  census  of  popu- 
lation, too,  with  similar  strides  of  amazing 
augmentation,  rolling  up  a  free,  intelli- 
gent, and  powerful  citizenship  of  forty 
round  millions ! 

Never  before  has  the  world  witnessed 
so  superlative  an  illustration  of  the  capac- 
ity of  man  for  self  government;  never 
before  has  the  Glory  of  Man,  in  his  unre- 
pressed  enthusiasm  and  unfettered  activi- 
ties, been  confirmed  by  achievements  so 
splendid  and  enduring. 

Sharing,  in  full  measure,  the  patriotic 
pride  of  a  birthright  and  nationality  so 
exalted,  and  of  associations  so  illustrious, — 
the  conscious  sentiment  of  every  American 
bosom, — 

I    DEDICATE  THIS  WORK  TO    MY  ENLIGHT- 
ENED  Fellow   Countrymen    in   the 

NEARLY    TWO-SCORE    FRATERNAL    COM- 
MONWEALTHS OF  OUR  GLORIOUS  UNION, 

— E  Plurihus  Unum  !  "All  for  each, 

AND    EACH    FOR    ALL." 


Our  common  interest  in  those  marvel- 
ous recitals  of  the  nation's  Wonderfully 
varied  Life  during  the  Centennial  Era, 
now  just  completed,  is  without  distinction 
of  party,  section,  or  calling;  and  our  con- 


gratulatory lot  it  is,  under  the  gracious 
blessing  of  Heaven,  to  boast  of  a  career 
more  renowned,  diversified  in  character, 
and  more  boundless  in  its  results  to  the 
human  race,  than  that  of  the  most  com- 
manding Empires  of  the  Past,  of  what- 
ever name  or  period. 

These  memorials  of  that  unparalleled 
and  majestic  drama  possess,  too, — many 
of  them, — an  historical  significance  which 
is  not  limited  to  the  past,  nor  to  the  gener- 
ation whose  fortune  it  is  to  rehearse  them 
at  this  dividing  threshold,  between  their 
occurrence  and  their  commemoration ; — 
their  influence  ivill  reach  forward  to  the 
setting  of  the  sun  of  time! 

Vain  Predictions  of  the  Enemies  of 
Free  Government. 

Contemplating,  with  but  the  briefest 
survey,  the  data  exhibiting  our  prodigious 
national  growth,  scarcely  can  it  be  realized, 
at  the  present  day,  that,  even  after  the 
lapse  of  successive  decades  from  the  na- 
tion's birth,  there  were  prophets  of  evil 
omen  across  the  water,  the  devotees  of 
monarchical  rule  and  the  enemies  of  free  in- 
stitutions, who  oracularly  predicted  that 
the  American  Republic  was  but  a  tran- 
sient experiment — a  mere  political  will-o'- 
the-wisp — an  aerial  edifice,  which  a  few 
rough  storms  would  shatter  and  dissipate ; 
that  it  would,  indeed,  prove  like  Jonah's 
gourd,  which  grew  up  in  a  night,  and  per- 
ished in  a  day ! 

Statesmen  of  no  less  sagacity  than  Rus- 
sell, Macaulay,  Brougham,  and,  still  later, 
even  that  astute  philosopher,  Mr.  Carlyle, 
heralded  with  blind  and  self-conceited  as- 
sumption, the  downfall  of  our  nation, — the 
same  nation,  of  whose  geographical  mag- 
nitude already  attained  during  its  tenth 
decade,  one  of  the  most  prominent  of 
American  Statesmen  could  declare,  that, 
were  all  the  countries  conquered  by  Roman 


DEDICATION. 


arms,  or  reduced  to  subjection  by  Roman 
power,  arrayed  contiguously,  in  compact 
form,  and  placed  in  the  center  of  the 
United  States,  one  of  our  swift  railroad 
trains,  with  its  palace  cars,  containing 
more  of  elegance  and  luxury  of  travel  than 
the  most  sybaritic  of  the  Roman  emper- 
ors ever  dreamed  of,  must  run  at  the  rate 
of  twenty-five  miles  the  hour,  continu- 
ously, for  more  than  two  days,  from  either 
exterior  boundary  of  our  jurisdiction,  to 
reach  the  outward  limits  of  the  Roman 
empire,  when  thus  placed,  even  when  she 
claimed  to  be  mistress  of  the  world. 

But,  though  the  vauntings  of  evil  proph- 
ecy, the  assaults  of  envy  and  ridicule,  the 
tirades  of  a  hostile  press,  and  the  machina- 
tions of  kings  and  cabinets,  have  ever  and 
anon  swept  across  the  Atlantic,  and  sought 
to  weaken  the  stability  and  humiliate  the 
name  of  our  glorious  Republic,  it  still 
stands,  confronting  and  challenging  the 
tribunal  of  the  world,  in  the  majesty  of 
those  eternal  principles  embodied  in  its 
Declaration  of  Independence,  —  in  the 
strength  of  its  dignity  as  the  commanding 
arbiter  of  its  own  affairs,  and  of  the  des- 
tiny oi  the  Western  hemisphere  as  well, — 
in  the  prowess  of  its  fleets  and  armies, — 
in  the  incalculable  wealth  of  its  natural 
resources, — in  the  splendor  of  its  world- 
wide commerce,  its  gigantic  material  en- 
terprises, its  vast  industries,  its  affluence 
in  the  whole  range  of  art,  science,  and  lit- 
erature,— and  in  the  still  growing  ascend- 
ancy of  all  those  moral,  social,  educa- 
tional, and  political  forces,  which  shall 
carry  it  onward  and  dominant,  with  ever- 
increasing  power,  "  while  Empires  drop 
and  Monarchs  sink  to  rest." 

Well,  then,  may  every  true  American, 
standing  on  this  Centennial  outpost,  and 
seeing  the  gorgeous  ensigns  of  the  repub- 
lic studded  with  naught  but  stars  of  ever- 


brightening  light  and  luster,  proudly  ex- 
claim, '<  There  stands  the  Past — All  hail 
the  Hereafter !  Ring  out  the  Old — Ring 
in  the  New  !  " 

Scope  of  this  Volume:  Wonders  axd 
Pkodigies,  Men  and  Events. 

Leaving  to  the  tosk  of  the  general  his- 
torian, the  discussion  of  those  grave  themes 
of  constitutional  and  legislative  polity,  the 
triumphs  and  failures  of  diplomacy,  and 
the  complex  details  of  civic  and  military 
administration,  which  make  up  the  politi- 
cal life  of  a  State  and  give  to  a  government 
its  distinguishing  consideration  and  status 
in  the  family  of  nations,  it  is  proposed 
in  this  volume, — as  meeting  what  is  be- 
lieved will  be  the  almost  universal  prefer- 
ence of  the  People, — to  present,  rather,  a 
panoramic  view  of  those  wonders  and  prod- 
igies, both  of  men  and  events,  which  pe- 
culiarly reflect  the  patriotism,  taste  and 
genius,  the  exploits,  tragedies  and  achieve- 
ments, of  the  Century,  in  their  most  promi- 
nent and  emphasized  examples;  —  those 
red-letter  days,  scenes  and  sensations, 
which  exhibit,  in  distinctive  portraiture, 
the  glory  of  our  arms,  the  triumphs  of  in- 
vention, the  marvelous  phenomena  of  the 
heavens  above  and  the  earth  beneath,  the 
enthusiasm  of  reform,  the  valorous  adven- 
tures of  voyage  and  travel,  the  contests  of 
the  forum,  the  horrors  of  calamity  and 
crime,  the  startling  play  of  the  human  will 
and  passions,  the  gala  days  of  national  re- 
joicing, etc.,  etc.,  in  all  the  rich  and  ex- 
citing phases  of  one  hundred  changeful 
years. 

An  eminent  writer,  in  one  of  the  most 
influential  of  the  foreign  Reviews,  re- 
marks : 

*'If  the  sense  of  wonder  in  civilized 
man  has  not  been  wholly  destroyed,  we 
can  not  doubt  that  this  age  m  which  we 


10 


DEDICATION. 


live  will  he  Joohed  hack  upon  by  our  cliil- 
dren's  children  as  more  replete  with  won- 
ders than  any  which  the  world^s  history 
has  hitherto  recorded^ 

How  forcible  the  truth  of  this  observa- 
tion is,  in  respect  to  the  one  hundred  j-ears 
of  our  own  history,  the  characterizations 
spread  out  in  the  following  pages  will  at- 
test. The  calendar  of  that  century  has 
been  multitudinous  with  wonders — social, 
moral,  political,  phj-sical,  scientific,  —  so 
vast,  so  dazzling,  as  to  render  familiar  to 
us,  as  matters  of  common  interest  and 
daily  thought,  results  and  facts,  greater 
and  intrinsically  more  strange,  tlian  any 
that  past  ages  afford,  and  eclipsing  any 
that  pertain  to  distant  countries. 

The  superior  value,  therefore,  of  this 
volume,  for  the  great  mass  of  readers,  as 
compared  with  works  of  simple  clironologi- 
cal  summary  with  the  usual  comments  and 
discussions,  is  seen  in  the  more  diverse 
range — the  wider  scope — of  attractive  sub- 
jects here  collected,  and  which  are  adapted 
to  meet  so  fully  the  average  taste  and 
need.  Thus,  the  pages  of  no  history,  cast 
in  the  customary  mould  of  that  order  of 
literature,  could  be  expected  to  contain 
more  than  a  passing  allusion,  if  so  much, 
to  the  peculiarly  readable  matter  which  com- 
prises one-third,  at  least,  of  the  topics  here 
treated,  and,  without  which,  the  work 
would  fail  in  its  most  piquant  element. 
HiSTOUY  Illustrating  Itself  by  Ex- 
ample. 

Adopting  the  words  "  great  "  and  "  mem- 
orable," according  to  the  liberal  definition 
of  lexicologists,  and  guided  by  the  familiar 
injunction  of  Cicero,  "Choose  with  dis- 
cretion out  of  the  plenty  before  you,"  the 
plan  of  this  work  is,  in  a  special  and  per- 
spicuous sense,  that  of  history  illustrating 
itself  by  example.  It  says  to  all.  Look 
on  this  picture — and  on  this. 


Suffice  it  to  say,  on  this  point,  that 
every  event  chosen  for  these  pages  is,  in 
addition  to  its  own  intrinsic  interest,  such 
as  illustrates  and  brings  into  striking  relief 
the  prevailing  spirit  or  excitement  of  the 
period  marked  by  its  occurrence, — photo- 
graphs of  each  recurring  marvel,  as  the 
canvas  of  national  life  was  unrolled, — be- 
ginning with  the  world-renowned  transac- 
tion in  the  Hall  of  Independence,  July  4, 
1776,  and  ending  with  the  Centennial  com- 
memoration, July  4,  1876,  of  that  august 
scene,  under  circumstances  the  most  grand 
and  imposing  that  ever  related  to  any  peo- 
ple under  the  sun. 

Popular   Interest    of   the    Subjects 
HERE  Treated. 

The  popular  and  permanent  fame  of 
these  celebrated  events,  which  thus  distin- 
guish a  century  confessedly  the  most  won- 
derful of  any  in  the  ages  of  the  world,  and 
pertaining  to  a  country  whose  career  has 
been  unequaled  by  that  of  any  of  the  na- 
tions of  Christendom,  may  well  be  said  to 
constitute  a  quality  in  this  volume,  com- 
pared with  which  the  ordinary  terms  ap- 
plicable to  books  designed  for  wide-spread 
circulation  would  be  but  tame.  The  char- 
acter of  this  work  is,  rather,  in  the  fullest 
sense,  rotnajitic,  stimulating,  instructive, — 
adapted,  in  the  highest  degree,  to  enlist 
the  rapt  emotions  and  curiosity  of  every 
American  reader,  so  long  as  the  republic 
shall  endure.  Here,  also,  are  presented  to 
view,  in  addition  to  the  long  and  thrilling 
role  of  subsequent  events,  those  grand 
Time-marks  in  our  earlier  history,  to 
which  the  out-stretched  forefinger  of  a 
century  joints,  as  most  memorable  and 
engrossing.  They  were  rehearsed  by  the 
fathers  to  the  children ;  and  the  children 
of  the  present,  and  those  of  future  genera- 
tions, will  peruse  the  varied  story  with 
eager  and  absorbing  attention. 


DEDICATIOK 


11 


For  tliat  large  number,  too,  who  tliougli 
now  ill  advancing  years  are  familiar  with 
many  of  these  events  only  through  veihal 
repetition,  or  from  scanty  and  fragmentary 
sources,  this  ample  detail,  through  the 
printed  page,  of  whatever  is  most  famous 
in  the  past  of  their  native  land,  will  surely 
be  invaluable. 

Exclusion   of   All   Dry   Topics   and 
Details. 

As  already  remarked,  incidentally,  the 
treatment  of  those  topics  which  involve 
tedious  documentary  array,  those,  too, 
which  are  more  properly  within  the  scope 
of  scientific  speculation,  or  political  theo- 
rizing, or  legal  disquisition, — such,  for  in- 
stance, as  the  shifting  conflicts  of  party, 
our  international  complications,  and  those 
profound  problems  of  public  policy  which 
have  agitated  the  country  since  its  very 
foundation, — has  not  been  attempted  here, 
excepting  in  those  special  features  which 
admit  of  attractive  narrative  and  the  em- 
bodying of  genial  anecdote  and  pleasing 
memorabilia.  A  host  of  ready  pens  will 
not  be  wanting,  to  elaborate,  in  well-woven 
thread  of  continuity,  the  copious  facts  and 
proceedings  relating,  respectively,  to  the 
political,  military,  religious,  benevolent, 
commercial  and  industrial  growth  of  the 
republic,  during  the  wondrous  cj'^cle  just 
completed;  and  it  is  safe  to  assume,  there- 
fore, in  this  regard,  that  the  interests  of 
no  class  or  profession  will  suffer  from  the 
lack  of  a  competent  representative  in  the 
circle  of  authorship. 

The   Universal    Heart   Touched    v.y 
THESE  Scenes  and  Events. 

It  will  readily  be  conjectured  that,  to 
"choose  with  discretion  "  from  the  multi- 
farious materials  which  the  preparation  of 
such    a    work    involved,  —  discriminating 


aptly  among  their  number  and  variety, — 
was  no  indifferent  task. 

The  utmost  pains-taking  has  been  put 
forth  by  the  editor,  to  perform  this  duty  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  omit  nothing,  the 
absence  of  which  would  impair  the  com- 
pleteness of  the  work,  by  making  it  in  any 
measure  less  than  it  should  be — a  mirror 
reflecting  the  great  and  striking  occur- 
rences of  an  Era  to  which  has  been  di- 
rected, from  first  to  last,  the  wondering 
gaze  of  people  of  every  clime.  Especially 
may  they  be  described  as  those  at  which 
the  American  citizen,  taking  a  retrospect 
of  the  annals  that  flow  through  the  period 
thus  marked,  involuntarily  finds  himself 
filled,  alternately,  with  astonishment  — 
pride — horror — delight. 

In  a  word,  the  contents  of  these  pages, 
as  will  be  seen  by  a  glance  at  the  Topi- 
cal or  Classified  List,  comprise  those 
events  which  called  forth  the  greatest  in- 
terest, curiosity,  admiration,  or  terror,  on 
the  part  of  the  public; — those  black  and 
white  keys,  whose  changeful  notes,  oft- 
times  of  weal,ofttimes  of  woe,  touched,  as 
did  no  others,  the  universal  heart! 

Different  Tastes    and   Preferences 
Consulted. 

That  the  number  of  subjects  pertinent 
for  such  a  work  might  be  somewhat  ex- 
tended, soon  became  apparent.  Thus,  of 
the  many  battles  in  the  five  great  wars, — 
the  revolutionary  struggle,  the  war  of 
1812,  the  Mexican  campaign,  the  conflict 
for  the  Union,  and  the  wars  with  the  In- 
dians,— a  description  will  be  found  of  the 
fifteen  most  decisive,  together  with  ac- 
counts of  some  others  of  controlling  im- 
portance ;  to  portray  all,  however,  of  ac- 
knowledged moment,  would  have  been  to 
devote  a  whole  volume,  at  least,  to  that 
specialty    alone.      Particularly    does    this 


12 


DEDICATION. 


remark  apply  to  that  vast  and  prolonged 
drama  of  the  war  for  the  Union ; — it  was 
absolutely  impossible,  and  it  would  also 
have  been  equally  iinprofitable,  to  present 
more  than  a  few  of  those  teeming  events, 
such,  for  instance,  as  marked  its  inaugura- 
tion, and  those  which,  during  its  progress, 
distinctly  foreshadowed  or  were  immedi- 
ately identified  with  the  final  result. 

The  same  statement  holds  true,  rela- 
tively, with  reference  to  great  political 
measures,  crimes,  disasters,  reforms,  and 
the  wide  field  of  discoveries  and  inven- 
tions. Of  these  latter,  numbering  in  tlie 
Patent  Office  at  Washington  scores  of 
thousands,  the  "  New  American  Cyclope- 
dia" gives  place,  in  its  masterly  table  of 
Chronology,  to  barely  half  a  dozen  exam- 
ples ;  more  than  this  number,  however,  are 
here  described,  linked  with  the  fascinating 
story  of  their  extraordinary  origin  and  in- 
troduction, and  their  amazing  revolution- 
ary influence. 

Without  pursuing  this  train  of  explana- 
tion farther,  it  may  be  observed  that,  in 
prosecuting  the  contemplated  plan  of  this 
volume,  it  was  found  that,  though  the 
grand  object  in  view  would  be  amply  and 
satisfactorily  attained  by  restricting  the 
topical  contents  to  the  original  one  hun- 
dred, there  were  yet  certain  notable  occur- 
rences which,  though  by  no  means  "  great," 
in  the  pre-eminent  meaning  of  that  word, 
possessed,  nevertheless,  so  largely  the  char- 
acter of  being  novel  and  exhilarating,  and 
partook  so  peculiarly  of  the  "  bloom,  effer- 
vescence, and  gush"  of  the  times,  that 
their  presentation  would  add  most  agree- 
ably to  the  variety,  readableness,  and  eclat 
of  the  text. 

It  was  finally  determined,  therefore, 
that  a  limited  number  of  this  collateral  or 
secondary  class  should  be  included, — pop- 
ular side-light  scenes,  or  episodes,  in  the 


varying  tableaux, — such  as  the  account  of 
the  sea  serpent,  the  musical  tour  of  Jenny 
Lind,  the  chess  triumphs  of  Morphy, 
Rarey's  feats  of  horse-taming,  etc.,  etc., — 
but  not  by  subtracting  from  the  full  roll 
of  the  One  Hundred  events  which  were 
selected,  from  the  first,  as  legitimately 
illustrating  the  broad  National  Epoch,  and 
which  so  distinctly  fulfill  the  name  and 
design  of  this  work. 

Great   Historic   Actors  as   well  as 
Deeds  Described. 

It  will  hardly  be  necessary  to  remark  at 
much  length  upon  what,  in  the  nature  of 
the  case,  is  so  obvious,  namely,  that  not 
alone  the  great  Events  distinguishing  the 
past,  but  also  the  Actors,  w.th  whose  lives 
those  events  are  so  intimately  identified, 
are  here  delineated  in  the  most  striking 
crises  of  their  career ;  so  that  no  sphere  or 
phase  of  public  concern,  however  diverse, 
which  aroused  world-wide  attention,  is 
without  its  personal  portraitures  in  these 
pages.  Washington,  and  his  immortal 
compatriots  of  "  the  times  that  tried  men's 
souls,"  and,  following  them,  all  the  chief 
historic  characters  whose  deeds  loom  up  so 
conspicuously,  and  whose  fame  for  good  or 
ill,  success  or  disaster,  is  national, — men 
of  heroism,  statesmanship,  oratory,  genius, 
adventure,  philanthropy,  crime,  —  have 
here  their  appropriate  place. 

Character  and  Extent  of  Labor  In- 
volved. 

The  matter  of  these  volumes  is  of  such 
a  nature  as  necessarily  to  render  mere 
rhetorical  platitudes  quite  out  of  place; 
and  the  too  common  plan  of  presenting 
rivulets  of  fact  in  meadows  of  verbiage, 
would  be  at  utter  variance  with  the  object 
and  value  of  our  prescribed  space.  Res, 
non  verba !     It  has  consequently  been  a 


DEDICATION. 


13 


paramount  aim  with  the  editor,  while 
strictly  avoiding  that  degree  of  condensa- 
tion which  would  result  in  arid  outlines, 
or  bare  skeletons,  to  —  first,  avoid  micro- 
scopic details,  and,  second,  to  fuse  the  vital 
facts  and  racy  incidents  of  each  subject  in 
such  a  manner  as  would  body  it  forth  to 
the  reader  in  judicious  fullness  and  com- 
plete unity.  That  no  reasonable  desire  in 
this  respect  has  been  left  unsatisfied,  it  is 
sufficient  to  say,  that,  to  each  great  event 
is  devoted  a  number  of  pages  equal  to  that 
usually  given  to  articles,  descriptive  or 
narrative,  in  the  various  first-class  maga- 
zines of  widest  circulation. 

Manifestly,  too,  it  could  form  no  part  of 
such  a  work  as  this  to  create,  or  to  adorn 
by  the  mere  artifice  of  words,  but  rather, 
with  simple  fidelity,  to  rehearse  and  per- 
petuate. Sources  of  information,  wher- 
ever available,  embracing  the  well  nigh 
endless  files  of  American  newspapers,  and 
in  particular  the  issues  of  the  metropoli- 
tan press ;  the  immense  range  of  periodi- 
cal literature  traversing  the  whole  period 
of  one  hundred  years  ;  voluminous  masses 
of  judicial  and  legislative  documents;  the 
personal  narratives  of  those  who  were 
foremost  participants  in  the  scenes  de- 
picted ;  innumerable  incidents  and  data 
communicated  by  eye-witnesses ;  the  teem- 
ing libraries,  public  and  private,  of  our 
principal  cities  ; — the  whole  store-house, 
in  fact,  of  history  in  every  department, 
has  been  industriously  explored,  and  its 
contents,  diligently  examined  and  sum- 
marized, made  tributary  to  the  interest  of 
these  pages. 

No  event  or  transaction  has  in  any  case 
been  selected,  or  excluded,  because  of  any 
bias,  political  or  religious,  on  the  part  of 
the  editor ;  but,  alike  in  respect  to  the 
events  themselves  and  their  dramatis  per- 
sonce,  the  variety  here    presented,   as  well 


as  the  authorities  and  sources  of  informa- 
tion cited,  will  abundantly  evince  the  en- 
tiro  impartiality  practiced.  Nor  was  it 
deemed  desirable  to  augment  the  bulk  of 
the  work  by  indulging  in  diffuse  com- 
ments, or  philosophical  reflections,  on  the 
events  set  forth,  however  fruitful  and 
tempting  the  opportunity.  The  "plain 
unvarnished  tale  "  is  allowed  to  stand  by 
itself,  teaching  its  own  lesson,  and  sug- 
gesting its  own  commentary. 

The  difficulty  of  attaining  unchallenged 
accuracy  in  all  the  minutifE  of  each  event 
— as,  for  example,  the   diverse   combina- 
tions   and    maneuvers    incident    to    pro- 
longed battles, — as  well  as  other  transac* 
tions    involving     great    and    many-sided 
detail,  need  but  to  be  mentionec?  in  order 
to  bo  appreciated.     The  various  and  pro- 
tracted  controversies  growing  out  of  the 
statements   contained   in   the  volumes  of 
our  foremost  national  historian,  Mr.  Ban- 
croft, are  fresh  in  the  minds  of  all  who  are 
familiar  with  current  literature  and  affairs, 
and  furnish  a  case  in  point ;  and  if  any  ad- 
ditional   evidence  were  requisite  to  show 
the  difficulties  of  even  the  most  conscien- 
tious narrator,  the  experience  of  Sir  AVal- 
ter  Raleigh  will  at  least  be  taken  as  suf- 
ficiently   suggestive.      It    is    well    known 
that    his    "History  of   the    AVorld "    was 
composed  while  he  was  a  political  prisoner 
in  the  Tower  of  London.     Only  a  portion 
of    the    work,    however,    was    published, 
owing  to   the   following   circumstance : — 
One  afternoon,  looking  through  his  win- 
dow into  one  of  the  courts  of  the  Tower, 
Sir  Walter  saw  two  men  quarrel,  when  the 
one  actually  murdered  the  other.     Shortly 
after  this  occurred,  two  gentlemen,  friends 
of  Sir  Walter,  came  into  his  room,  and, 
remarking    upon    the    tragedy,    disagreed 
materially  in  their  statements.     Sir  Wal- 
ter,   who,   like   them,    had    witnessed    the 


14 


DEDICxVTION. 


wliolo  iiffiiir,  declared  that  neither  was  ac- 
curate, and  gave  liis  own  version  of  the 
matter.  Thus,  three  eye-witnesses  disa- 
greeing about  an  act  so  recently  com- 
mitted,. R;ileigh,  in  a  rage,  took  up  the 
volumes  of  manuscript  which  lay  near, 
and  belonging  to  his  "  History  of  the 
World,"  and  threw  them  on  a  large  fire 
that  was  in  the  room,  exclaiming,  that  "  it 
was  not  for  him  to  write  the  history  of  the 
world,  if  he  could  not  verify  or  relate 
what  he  saw  a  quarter  of  an  hour  be- 
fore." 

It  remains  to  be  added  here,  in  terms  of 
warm  and  grateful  appreciation,  that  much 
of  the  irksomeness  inseparable  from  labor 
of  this  character,  has  been  relieved  by  the 
aid  afforded  us,  so  cheerfully,  by  corre- 
spondents in  different  parts  of  the  coun- 
try, —  authors,  statesmen,  military  and 
other  officials, — and  without  whose  friend- 
ly co-operation,  insuperable  difficulty  would 
have  been  experienced  by  the  editor,  at 
more  than  one  stage  in  the  progress  of  his 
task. 

The  valuable  assistance  thus  rendered  is 
hereby  gratefully  acknowledged,  with  a 
deep  sense  of  personal  obligation. 

SuPEKB  Attractiveness  of  the  Illus- 
trations. 

Of  the  numerous  and  elegant  pictorial 
adornments  of  these  pages,  much  might 
be  said.  This  attractive  as  well  as  essen- 
tial feature,  namely,  the  full  and  grapliic 
illustration,  by  views  and  portraits,  of 
each  event  and  its  chief  actors,  together 
with  the  signatures  of  the  latter,  was  de- 
termined on  simultaneously  with  the  first 
conception  of  the  book  itself;  and  the  re- 
sult— a  complete  Picture  Gallery  of  the 
National  Century, — will  be  found  in  keep- 
ing with  the  selectest  attainments  of  taste 
and  genius  in  tliis  direction,  and  worthy 


of  the  vivid  transactions  thus  delineated. 
They  have  been  furnished  by  the  most 
eminent  artists,  and  at  a  lavish  cost, — the 
number,  variety,  and  beauty  of  the  plates 
being  far  in  advance  of  those  of  any  other 
work  of  the  same  compass  ever  before  pub- 
lished in  America,  and  equaled  by  few  or 
none  issued  abroad. 

That  nothing  should  be  deficient  in  this 
feature,  the  plan  pursued  was,  to  obtain,  if 
possible,  accurate  representations  of  every 
scene  to  be  described,  fresh  and  contem- 
porary with  its  occurrence,  and,  wdiere  no 
facility  was  afforded  for  this,  to  resort  to 
the  best  skill  capable  of  realizing  the  end 
desired.  They  comprise  copies  of  some 
of  the  masterpieces  of  Trumbull,  Copley, 
Healy,  and  others  of  that  renowned  school, 
and  portraits,  sketches,  designs,  vignettes, 
etc.,  by  the  most  gifted  leaders  of  art  in 
America. 

It  is  but  simple  justice,  also,  to  remark 
here,  that  for  the  completeness  character- 
izing this  wide  field  of  embellishment,  our 
warmest  thanks  are  due,  in  repeated  in- 
stances, to  the  generosity  of  courteous 
correspondents, — authors,  artists,  publish- 
ers and  others,  —  for  portraits  and  auto- 
graphs so  rare  that,  but  for  the  kind  favor 
thus  extended,  access  to  some  of  the  most 
valued  engravings  here  given  would  have 
been  well  nigh  impracticable.  Nor  would 
it  be  possible,  in  this  connection,  to  over- 
state the  credit  belonging  to  the  unrivaled 
illustrated  journals  of  our  great  cities, 
whose  prompt  and  profuse  photographs  of 
current  events  and  memorable  objects  and 
personages,  in  all  parts  of  the  world,  dur- 
ing tlie  last  quarter  of  a  century,  leave 
nothing  unprovided  in  that  line  for  the 
future  liistorian.  In  a  vast  majority  of 
instances,  indeed,  those  journals  are  the 
only  sources  from  which  life-like  picto- 
rial descriptions  of  American  history,  and 


DEDICATION. 


15 


that   of    other   uations    as   well,    can    be 
drawn. 

Timely  Appeakance  of  the  Work. 

Without  egotism  or  boastfulness,  it  may 
he  claimed  for  this  work,  in  conclusion, 
that,  original  and  unique  in  plan,  rich  in 
its  varied  and  ample  contents,  and  unsur- 
passed in  abundant  ornamentation,  its  ap- 
pearance at  the  close  of  the  Grand  Na- 
tional Era  was  peculiarly  called  for;  —  it 
being  confidently  believed  that,  under  the 


stimulus  of  the  universal  celebration  of 
the  Great  Commemorative  Anniversary, 
throughout  all  the  borders  of  the  land, 
and  on  a  scale  of  magnificence  becoming 
the  most  powerful,  happy,  and  prosperous 
nation  on  the  face  of  the  globe,  public  at- 
tention would  naturally  be  directed  to  the 
desirableness  of  just  such  a  Memorial  of 
that  eventful  centenary  period  which  the 
Day  of  Jubilee — July  Fourth,  187G, — 
rounds  out  to  full-orbed  completeness. 

K.  M.  DEVENS. 


Birth  of  the  New  Republic. — 1776. 

Declaration  of  American  Independence  and  National  Sovereignty,  Jnly  Fourth,  1776.— The 
Gauntlet  of  Defiance  thrown  at  the  Feet  of  the  British  Empire  by  Her  Youngest  Colonies. 
—Vast  Disparity,  in  Power  and  Resources,  between  the  Contestants.— The  whole  AVorld 
Looks  on  Astonished.— Seven  Years'  Bloody  and  Desolating  War.— The  American  Cause  Tri- 
umphant.—Grandest  Modern  Event.— America  Resists  Unjust  Taxation.— Haughty  Obsti- 
nacy of  King  George.— Burning  Eloquence  of  Patrick  Henry.— His  Summons,  "We  Must 
Fight."— Washington  Endorses  this  Sentiment.— Determination  of  the  People.— War  Prefer- 
red to  Submission.— Momentous  Action  by  Congress.— Separation  from  England  Decreed.— 
Effect  of  the  Act  in  America.— Its  Reception  in  England.— Excitement  of  the  King  and  Court. 
—-Lord  Chatham,  America's  Advocate.— His  Passionate  Change  of  Views.— Scorching  Speech 
against  the  Colonies  —He  is  Struck  Dead  while  Speaking.— Magnanimity  of  Burke  and 
Fox.— Recognition  from  France  Secured.— Her  Timely  Aid  in  the  Struggle.— Victories  over 
the  British  Armies.— England  Giyes  Up  the  Contest.— World-wide  Welcome  to  the  New 
Nation ,    ,    .    .    •    f 


18  CONTENTS. 

II. 

Capitulation  of  General  Burgoyne. — 1777. 
First  Royal  Army  Ever  Surrendered  to  Americans. — Utter  Failure  of  England's  Grand  Scheme 
to  "  Subdue  the  Rebellious  Colonies." — Eui-opean  Sympathy  for  the  Struggling  Infant  Na- 
tion.— Alliance  between  France  and  the  United  States. — Brilliant  and  Effective  Combination 
of  French  and  American  Forces. — Gloomy  Prospect  for  America  in  1777. — Britain's  Honor 
Intrusted  to  Burgoyne. — His  Magnificent  Army. — Rebels  to  be  Sternly  Dealt  With. — San- 
guine Expectations  of  Success. — Savages  Leagued  with  the  Invaders. — Their  Murder  of 
Miss  McCrea. — Burgoyne's  Triumphant  Progress. — Fall  of  Ticonderoga. — American  Victor- 
ies at  Bennington,  etc. — Gates's  Army  in  Fine  Spirits. — General  Eraser  Shot  Dead. — The 
"  King's  Regulars  "  Desperate. — General  Clinton  Fails  to  Aid  Them. — AH  Hope  Abandoned. 
— Burgoyne  Lays  Down  his  Arms. — His  Meeting  with  Gates. — Trophies  of  this  Victory. — 
How  Washington  Got  the  News. — Unbounded  Joy  of  Americans. — Crushing  Blow  to  British 
Pride. — Effect  upon  Other  Nations 72 

in. 

First  American  Naval  Victory. — 1779. 

John  Paul  Jones,  Commanding  the  Bon  Homme  Richard,  Fights  and  Captures  King  George's 
Powerful  Ship-of-war,  the  Serapis,  in  British  Waters. — Crowds  of  Spectators  Line  the  En- 
glish Coast. — The  Most  Sanguinary  Battle  Ever  Fought  between  Single  Ships. — Jones  is 
Hailed  as  "  The  Washington  of  the  Seas." — World-wide  Interest  of  this  Combat. — Commo- 
dore Jones's  Early  Career. — Offers  his  Services  to  Congress. — Appointed  a  Naval  Lieutenant. 
— Joins  the  Continental  Fleet. — The  First  to  Hoist  its  Ensign. — Style  and  Motto  of  the  Flag. 
— Sails  from  France  on  a  Cruise. — Terror  Created  by  His  Movements. — Characteristic  Anec- 
dotes.— Two  British  Frigates  in  Sight. — Jones  Ready  for  Bloody  Work. — The  Ships  Muzzle 
to  Muzzle. — Superiority  of  the  Serapis. — A  Most  Deadly  Contest. — Both  Vessels  on  Fire. — 
Jones  Attacked  by  Another  Foe. — One  of  His  Vessels  Treacherous. — Remarkable  Scenes. — 
Britain's  Flag  Struck  to  America. — An  Act  without  Precedent. — Sinking  of  the  Victorious 
Vessel 81 

IV. 

The  Wonderful  Dark  Day. — 1780. 

The  Northern  States  wrapt  in  a  Dense  Black  Atmosphere  for  Fifteen  Hours. — The  Day  of 
Judgment  Supposed  to  have  Come. — Cessation  of  Labor. — Religious  Devotions  Resorted  to. 
— The  Herds  Retire  to  their  Stalls,  the  Fowls  to  their  Roosts,  and  the  Birds  Sing  Their  Even- 
ing Songs  at  Noonday. — Science  at  I^oss  to  Account  for  the  Mysterious  Phenomenon. — One 
of  Nature's  JVIarvels. — Redness  of  the  Sun  and  Moon. — Approach  of  a  Thick  Vapor. — Loud 
Peals  of  Thunder. — Sudden  and  Strange  Darkness. — Alarm  of  the  Inhabitants. — End  of  the 
World  Looked  For. — Dismay  of  the  Brute  Creation. — An  Intensely  Deep  Gloom. — Difficulty 
in  Attending  to  Business. — Lights  Burning  in  the  Houses. — Vast  Extent  of  the  Occurrence. 
— Condition  of  the  Barometer. — Change  in  the  Color  of  Objects. — Quick  ISIotion  of  the 
Clouds. — Birds  Suffocate  and  Die. — The  Sun's  Disc  Seen  in  Some  Places. — Oily  Deposit  on 
the  Waters. — Impenetrable  Darkness  at  Night. — Incidents  and  Anecdotes. — Ignorant  Wliims 
and  Conjectures. — An  Unsolved  Mystery 89 

V. 

Treason  of  Ma.tor-General  Benedict  Arnold. — 1780. 
Darkest  Page  in  American  Revolutionary  History.— Plot  to  Deliver  West  Point,  the  Gibraltar 
of  America,  Over  to  the  British. — IMovements  of  the  Guilty  Parties. — Discovery  and  Frus- 
tration of  the  Crime. — Major  Andie,  the  British  Spy,  is  Cajitured,  and  Swings  from  a  Gib- 
bet.— Escape  of  Arnold  to  the  Enemy. — Is  Spurned  and  Isolated  in  England. — Arnold's 
Unquestioned  Bravery. — Conmiended  by  General  Washington. — Infamous  Personal  Transac- 
tions.— Reprimanded  by  His  Chief. — Determines  on  Revenge. — Correspondence  with  the  Foe. 
— Ingratiates  Washington's  Favor  Again. — Obtains  Command  of  West  Point. — Midnight 
Conference  with  Andre. — Andre  Seized  while  Returning. — Astounding  Evidence  Against 


CONTENTS.  19 

Him. — Attempts  to  Bribe  His  Captors. — Carried  to  American  Head-Quarters. — Arnold  Ap- 
prised of  the  Event.— A  Hurried  Farewell  to  His  Wife. — Quick  Pursuit  of  the  Traitor.— He 
Reaches  a  British  Man-of-War. — Washington's  Exclamation  at  the  News. — His  Call  on  Mrs. 
Arnold. — Andre's  Trial  and  Conviction. — Arnold's  Reward  for  His  Crime. — His  Unlamented 
Death 97 

VI. 

CoKNWALLis  Surrenders  His  Splendid  Army  to  General  Washington. — 1781. 
Final  Catastrophe  to  Biitish  Arms  in  America.—  Consternation  and  Despair  in  the  Cabinet  of 
King  George. — Their  Vaunted  Wager  of  Battle  Returns  to  Them  with  the  Loss  of  Their 
Fairest  Possession. — Washington's  Countrymen  Everywhere  Hail  and  Extol  Him  as  Their 
Deliverer. — Last  Act  in  the  Military  Drama. — Cornwallis  Halts  at  Yorktown. — Makes  it  His 
Defensive  Post. — Decoy  Letter  Sent  by  Washington. — The  British  Strongly  Fortified. — 
American  and  French  Forces  United — Their  Advance  on  the  Enemy. — Furious  Bombard- 
ment.— Redoubts  Stormed  by  Lafayette. — Both  Sides  Confident  of  Triumph. — British  Efforts 
to  Retreat. — Cornwallis  Prefers  Death  to  Defeat. — Reckless  Bravery  of  Washington. — Ardor 
and  Exultation  of  His  Troops. — Cornwallis  Fails  of  Re-enforcements. — He  Asks  a  Cessation 
of  Hostilities. — Forced  to  Yield  the  Struggle. — Universal  Rejoicing  of  Americans. — Morti- 
fication of  the  English. — Eloquence  of  Burke,  Fox,  and  Pitt. — They  Demand  that  the  War 
Cease. — The  Voice  of  Parliament. — Commemorative  Action  by  Congress 104 

VIL 

Adieu  to  the  Army  by  Washington. — 1783. 

Affecting  Interviews  and  Parting  Words  between  the  Great  Chieftain  and  His  Comrades-in- 
Arms. — Solemn  Farewell  Audience  with  Congress. — In  Its  Presence  He  Voluntarily  Divests 
Himself  of  His  Supreme  Authority,  Returns  His  Victorious  Sword,  and  Becomes  a  Private 
Citizen. — History  of  the  Election  of  a  Military  Leader — America's  Destiny  in  His  Hands. 
— Appointment  of  George  Washington. — The  Army  at  Cambridge,  Mass. — He  Immediately 
Takes  Command. — Is  Enthusiastically  Greeted. — Leads  Its  Fortunes  Seven  Y^ears. — Record 
of  His  Generalship. — Ends  the  War  in  Triumph. — Scheme  to  Make  Him  King. — Indig- 
nantly Rebukes  the  Proposal. — Last  Review  of  His  Troops. — His  Strong  Attachment  for 
Them. — Intention  to  Leave  Public  Life. — Congress  Informed  of  this  Fact. — Embarkation 
from  New  York. — Homage  Paid  Him  Everywhere. — Arrival  at  Annapolis. — Proceeds  to  the 
Halls  of  Congress. — Impressive  Ceremonial  There. — Rare  Event  in  Human  History.    .     112 

VIIL 

Appointment  of  the  First   Minister    Plenipotentiary,   from   the   New   Republic 

TO  THE  English  Court. — 1785. 

John  Adams,  Anierica's  Sturdiest  Patriot,  and  the  Foremost  Enemy  of  British  Tyranny,  Fills 
this  High  Office. — Interview  between  Him  and  King  George,  His  Late  Sovereign. — Their 
Addresses,  Temper,  Personal  Bearing,  and  Ilumoious  Conversation. — The  Two  Men  Rightly 
Matched  against  Each  Other. — Old  Animosities  Unhealed. — Mutual  Charges  of  False  Deal- 
ing.— Settlement  Demanded  by  the  United  States.— What  Adams's  Mission  Involved. — Dis- 
memberment of  the  British  Realm. — Loss  of  the  Fairest  Possession. — Bitter  Pill  for  the 
King.— His  Obstinacy  Forced  to  Y^ield.— Humiliation  of  the  Proud  Monarch.— All  Euiope 
Watches  the  Event.— Mr.  Adams  Presented  at  Court.— Patriot  and  King  Face  to  Face.— 
Official  Address  by  the  Minister.— Reply  of  King  George.— His  Visible  Agitation.— Adams's 
Presence  of  Mind.— Pays  His  Homage  to  the  Queen.— Her  Majesty's  Response.— Civilities 
by  the  Royal  Family.— Results  of  this  Embassy.— Pitiable  Position  of  George  the  Third.— 
Fatal  Error  of  Great  Britain 119 

IX. 
First  Organized  Rebellion  in  the  United  States. — 1786. 
Daniel  Shays,  at  the  Head  of  an  Armed  and  Desperate  Force,  Boldly  Defies  the  State  and  Fed- 
eral Laws  in  Massachusetts. — "  Taxation  and  Tyrapny  "  the  AUt^gt^fi  Grievapces.^ — Alarming 


20  CONTENTS. 

Disaffection  throughout  all  New  England. — Bad  Leaders  and  Furious  Mobs. — Rout  of  the 
Insurgents,  by  General  Lincoln,  in  the  Dead  of  Winter. — Patriotic  Old  Massachusetts  in  a 
Ferment. — Causes  of  Public  Discontent. — Total  Exhaustion  of  Credit. — Prostration  of  Trade. 
— Ruinous  Debts,  Heavy  Taxation. — Weakness  of  the  Government. — An  Excited  Populace. 
— Turbulence  and  Lawlessness. —  All  Authority  Spurned. —  A  Bloody  Conflict  Invited. — 
Courts  of  Justice  Broken  Up. — Indignation  of  Washington. — Heroism  on  the  Bench. — The 
National  Forces  Augmented. — Fears  of  a  General  Civil  War. — Unscrupulousness  of  Shays. 
— Intention  to  Seize  the  Capital. — Governer  Bowdoin's  Defenses. — General  Lincoln  in  Com- 
mand.— Active  Movement  of  His  Troops. — A  Terrible  Snow- Storm. — Hardships  of  Shays's 
Army. — Federal  Bayonets  Triumphant 125 

X. 

Formation  and  Adoption  of  the  Federal  Constitution. — 1787. 

The  United  States  no  Longer  a  People  without  a  Government. — Establishment  of  the  Repub- 
lic on  a  Permanent  Foundation  of  Unity,  Organic  Law  and  National  Polity. — Dignity, 
Learning,  and  Eloquence  of  the  Delegates. — Sublime  Scene  on  Signing  the  Instrument. — 
Extraordinary  Character  of  the  Whole  Transaction. —  State  of  Things  After  the  War. — 
Financial  Embarrassment. — Despondency  of  the  People. — Grave  Crisis  in  Public  Affairs. — 
A  Grand  Movement  Initiated. — Plan  of  Government  to  be  Framed. — All  the  States  in  Con- 
vention.— Washington  Chosen  to  Preside. — Statesmen  and  Sages  in  Council. — The  Old  Com- 
pact Abrogated. — New  Basis  of  Union  Proposed. — Various  Schemes  Discussed. — Jealousy  of 
the  Smaller  States. — Angry  Debates,  Sectional  Threats. — Bad  Prospects  of  the  Convention. — 
Its  Dissolution  Imminent. — Franklin's  Impressive  Appeal. — Compromise  and  Conciliation. — 
Final  System  Agreed  Upon. — Patriotism  Rules  all  Hearts. — Ratification  by  the  States. — 
National  Joy  at  the  Decision 132 

XL 

First  Election  and  Inauguration  of  a  President  of  the  United  States. — 1789. 

Washington,  "  First  in  War,  First  in  Peace,  and  First  in  the  Hearts  of  His  Countrymen,"  the 
Nation's  Spontaneous,  Unaniumus  Choice.^IIis  Triumphal  Progress  from  Home,  and  Sol- 

,  emu  Induction  into  Office. — Jubilee  throughout  the  Republic,  over  the  August  Event. — 
Auspicious  Commencement  of  the  National  Executive  Government. — Requirements  of  the 
Constitution. — A  President  to  be  Chosen. — Four  Years  the  Term  of  Service. — All  Eyes 
Fixed  Upon  AVashington. — His  Reluctance  to  Accept. — Reasons  Given  for  this  Course. — 
Urgent  Appeals  to  Him. — The  Result  of  the  Election. — One  Voice  and  One  Mind. — lie 
Bows  to  the  People's  Will. — Joy  Produced  by  His  Decision. — Departs  at  Once  from  Mount 
Vernon. — Farewell  Visits  to  His  Mother. — Inauguration  Appointed  for  March  Fourth. — 
Postponement  to  April  Thirtieth. — Order  of  Ceremonies. — New  Spectacle  in  the  Western 
World. — Distinguished  Celebi-ities  Present. — Washington's  Elegant  Appearance. — Dignity 
when  Taking  the  Oath. — Reverentially  Kisses  the  Bible. — Curious  Customs  Initiated.     .    139 

XIT. 
Greatest  Defeat  and  Victory  of  American  Arms  in  the  Indian  Wars. — 1791. 

Headlong  Flight  and  Di^struction  of  St.  Clair's  Army,  in  1791,  before  the  Trained  Warriors 
of  "  Little  Turtle." — This  Mortifying  Disaster  Retrieved  by  Wayne's  Overwhelming  Tri- 
umph in  1791.— Final  and  Crushing  Blow  Dealt  by  Jackson,  in  1814. — The  Question  of 
Power  between  the  Two  Races  Forever  Settled  in  Favor  of  the  Whites. — Old  Feuds  between 
the  Races. — Harmer's  Expedition  to  the  North-west. — Powerless  in  Ambush  Warfare. — 
Repeated  and  Bloody  Reverses. — St.  Clair  put  in  Command. — Warning  Words  of  Washing- 
ton.— Sudden  Attack  by  the  Miamis. — Terrible  Slaughter  of  the  Whites. — Overthrow  of  the 
Whole  Campaign. — Washington's  Reception  of  the  News. — His  Appalling  Wrath. — Sketch 
of  St.  Clair's  Conqueror. — His  Fame  at  Home  and  Abroad. — General  Wayne  Sent  to  the 
Field. — Unsuccessfully  Proffers  Peace. —  Instantly  Prepares  for  Battle. — Great  Army  of 
Indian  Warriors. — Their  Sagacious  Choice  of  I'osition. — Desperate  Fury  of  the  Conflict. — 
Wayne's  Prowess  Irresistible. — Death  Kuell  of  the  Savages. — Their  Confederacy  Shat- 
tered  146 


CONTENTS.  21 

XIII. 
Whitney's  Extraordinary  Cotton-Gin  Invention. — 1793. 
Amazing  Impetus  Given  to  the  Culture,  Uses  and  Consumption  of  Cotton. — Revolution  in  the 
Industrial  Prospects  and  Political  Power  of  the  South. — How  Cotton  Became  "Kinfj." — Its 
Relation  to  the  Great  Themes  and  Events  in  American  History. — Ingratitude  to  Whitney. — 
His  Brilliant  Change  of  Fortune  in  Another  Sphere. — Whitney's  Obscure  Circumstances. — 
His  Early  Mechanical  Genius. — Determined  to  Get  an  Education. — Goes  to  the  South  as  a 
Teacher. — Change  of  Pursuits. — Befriended  by  General  Greene's  Widow. — Amateur  Invent- 
ive Efforts. — Low  State  of  Southern  Industry.  —  Objection  to  Cotton-Raising.  —  Mrs. 
Greene's  Apt  Suggestion. — Whitney's  Characteristic  Resolve. — Secret  and  Persevering  Toil. 
— Exciting  Rumors  as  to  His  Purpose. — Great  Expectations  Entertained. — Triumphant  Suc- 
cess.— Enthusiasm  of  the  Cotton-Growers. — His  Machine  Stolen  from  Him. — Infringements 
upon  His  Patent. — Law-Suits,  but  no  Redress  for  Him. — His  Pathetic  Letter  to  Fulton. — 
He  Invents  a  Valuable  Firearm. — Southern  Strides  iu  Wealth 153 

XIV. 
The  Famous  Whiskey  Insurrection  in  Pennsylvania. — 1794. 
Violent  Resistance  to  the  United  States  Excise  Laws. — Monster  Meetings  and  Inflammatory 
Appeals. — Officials  and  Loyal  Citizens  Whipped,  Branded,  Tari-ed,  and  Feathered. — Intense 
Excitement  in  all  the  States. — Washington  Declares  that  the  Union  is  in  Peril  and  Heads  an 
Army  to  Meet  the  Crisis. — Precipitate  Flight  of  the  Armed  Rebels. — Congressional  Tax  on 
Spirits. — Cry  of  "  Tyranny  !  "  from  Distillers. — Western  Pennsylvania  in  a  Blaze. — Extent  of 
Her  Whiskey  Interests. — Ambitious  Politicians  at  Work. — A  Revolt  Incited  by  Them. — 
Bradford  the  Chief  Despei-ado. — Reign  of  Terror  Inaugurated. — Tax-Collectors  Roughly 
Handled. — The  Incendiary's  Torch. — "  Tom  the  Tinker's  "  Ruffianism. — Fury  of  the  Fac- 
tiouists. — Firm  Courage  of  Loyal  Men. — Perplexity  of  the  United  States  Government. — 
Presidential  Proclamation. — Law  and  Order  to  be  Maintained. — Troops  Summoned  into 
Service. — Prompt  and  Patriotic  Response. — The  Olive  Branch  vs.  the  Sword. — Bradford 
Scorns  Conciliation. — Washington's  Mind  Made  Up. — Prevents  the  Effusion  of  Blood.     160 

XV. 

Founding  and  Establishment  of   the  National  Capital. — 1799. 

Bitter  Sectional  Contest  in  Deciding  the  Location. — First  "  Compromise  "  in  Congress  between 
the  North  and  the  South. — Final  Removal  of  the  Government  and  its  Archives  to  AVashing- 
ton. — Official  Observance  of  the  Event. — Magnificent  Site  and  Plan  of  the  City. — Splendor 
of  its  Public  Buildings. — Congress  First  Sits  in  Philadelphia. — Need  of  a  Permanent  Capi- 
tal.— National  Dignity  Involved. —Violent  Agitation  of  the  Subject. — Philadelphia  and  New 
York  Proposed. — They  are  Objected  to  by  the  South. — Northern  Disunion  Threats. — 
Schemes  of  Conciliation. — How  the  Question  was  Settled. — Sweetening  Two  Bitter  Pills. — 
Jefferson's  Graphic  Account.— General  Washington's  Preference. — His  Site  on  the  Potomac 
Adopted.— Some  Rather  Personal  Anecdotes.— AVork  of  Laying  Out  the  City.— Its  Original 
Aspect  and  Condition.— Early  Trials  of  the  President's  Wife.— Construction  of  the  Capitol. 
— Its  Corner-Stone  Laid  by  Washington.— Congress  in  its  New  Halls.— Growth  of  the  Me- 
tropolis.— The  New  Corner-Stone  of  1851 167 

XVI. 

Death  of  George  Washington. — 1799. 
His  Sudden  and  Brief  Illness,  Last  Hours,  and  Dying  Words.— Fortitude  and  Serenity  through 
all  His  Suffijrings.- He  Calmly  Announces  His  Approaching  Dissolution  Without  a  Mur- 
mur.—The  AVhole  World  Does  Honor,  by  Eulogy  and  Lamentations,  to  His  Exalted  AVorth 
and  Immortal  Fame.— He  Anticipated  an  Early  Death.— His  Invariably  Good  Health.— 
Exposure  in  a  Snow-Storm.— Takes  a  Fatal  Cold.— Last  Letter  AA'ritten  by  His  Hand.— 
Reads  the  Papers  in  the  Evening.— Characteristic  Reply  to  His  AVife.— Passes  a  Restless 
Night.— Alarming  Condition  the  Next  Day.— Medical  Treatment  of  no  Avail.— Calls  for  His 
Two  AVills,  Burns  One.— Affecting   Scene  at  His  Bedside.— Last  AVords,  "  'Tis  AVell  1  "— 


22  CONTENTS. 

Only  One  Day's  Sickness. — Acute  Laryngitis  His  Disease. — Burial  in  the  Old  Family  Vault. 
— Tidings  of  His  Death. — Ti-ibutes  from  Peoples  and  Kings. — A  Man  Without  a  Parallel. — 
Last  Page  in  His  Journal. — Re-entombment  in  1837. — Appearance  of  His  Remains.      .    174 

XVII. 

Punishment  and  Complete  Degradation   of   the   Bakbary   States  by  the  Young 

Republic. — 1803. 

Tribute  Exacted  of  all  the  Nations  of  Christendom,  by  the  Piratical  Powers. — The  Thunder  of 
American  Cannon  before  Their  Cities. — Ignominious  Submission  of  Morocco,  Algiers,  Tunis, 
and  Tripoli. — Their  Audacious  Corsairs  Vanquished  and  Driven  in  Terror  from  the  Seas. — 
A  Boon  to  the  Civilized  World. — Barbary  a  Nation  of  Fi-eebooters. — All  Commerce  at  their 
Mercy. — The  United  States  Unknown  to  Them. — Its  Flag  Descried  on  the  Ocean. — Fresh 
Plunder  Anticipated. — Seizure  of  American  Ships. — Retaliation  by  the  Yankees. — Tripoli's 
Flag  Struck  at  Last. — Treaty  between  the  Belligerents. — New  Exactions  by  the  Algerines. — 
Retribution  in  Store  for  Them. — A  United  States  Frigate  in  the  Pirate  Haunts. — Grounding 
of  the  Philadelphia. — Her  Triumphant  Capture  by  the  Enemy. — Their  Boisterous  Exulta« 
tion. — Decatur  Burns  Her  During  the  Night. — Fierce  Rage  of  the  Turks. — Bombardment  of 
Tripoli. — How  "  Christian  Dogs "  were  Viewed. — Peace  Sued  for  by  the  Despots. — Their 
Duplicity  and  Treachery. — America's  "  Tribute  "  is  Powder  and  Balls 182 

XVIII. 
Fatal  Duel  between  Mr.  Burr  and  General  Alexander  Hamilton. — 1804. 
Fall  of  Hamilton  at  First  Fire. — His  Death  in  Thirty  Houi-s. — Profound  Sensation  and  Solemn 
Obsequies  in  all  Parts  of  the  Land. — Mourned  as  One  of  the  Founders  of  the  Republic. — 
Indictment  of  the  Assassin  for  the  Crime  of  Murder. — Hamilton's  Brilliant  Public  Life. — 
Washington's  Right-hand  Man. — Champion  of  the  Federalists. — Burr's  Career  in  the  Revo- 
lution.— His  Notorious  Debauchery. —  Finally  Dismissed  by  Washington. — Becomes  Vice- 
President  in  1800. — Deadly  Personal  Hatreds. — Criticisms  on  Burr  by  His  Opponents. — 
Challenge  Sent  to  Hamilton. — Pacific  Explanations  Spurned. — Forced  to  Meet  Burr. — Makes 
His  Will  in  Anticipation. — Sings  at  a  Banquet  the  Day  Before. — Arrival  of  the  Fatal  Hour. 
— Hamilton's  Mortal  Vv'^ound. — What  He  Said  of  the  Event. — Conversation  before  Dying. — 
Partakes  of  the  Communion. — His  Testimony  against  Dueling. — Heartless  Conduct  of 
Burr. — A  Fugitive  and  an  Outlaw 189 

XIX. 

Total  Solar  Eclipse  at  Mid-Day. — 1806. 

The  Darkness  of  Night  Falls  upon  the  Earth. — Stars  and  Planets  in  Full  Radiance. — Magnifi- 
cent Spectacle  of  the  Glittering  Corona  around  the  Moon  and  the  Brilliant  Rosy  Protuber- 
ances Flaming  from  the  Sun. — Splendor  of  the  Returning  Night. — Similar  Eclipse  in  1869. 
— INIillions  of  Faces  Turned  Upward. — The  Phenomenon  Viewed  with  Curiosity,  Wonder, 
and  Absorbed  Delight. — Remarkably  Fine  W<!ather. — Serene  and  Cloudless  Heavens. — Busi- 
ness Pursuits  Abandoned. — The  Moon  Crossing  the  Sun. — Distinctness  of  the  Lunar  Orb. — 
Grand,  Dark,  Majestic,  Mighty. — Total  Obscurity  Some  Five  Minutes. — Appearance  of 
Nature. — Sensations  Produced  in  the  Mind. — Involuntary  Exclamations. — Effect  on  Birds 
and  Animals. — Triumphs  of  Astronomical  Science. — Exquisitely  Constructed  Instruments. 
— Revelations  of  the  Spectroscope. — Great  Thermometrical  Changes.— -Spots  on  the  Sun  Ex- 
amined.—Openings  in  the  Moon.— Peculiar  Color  of  that  Body.— Its  Dark  and  Dismal 
Shadows. — Search  for  New  Stars. — Meteors  'mid  Earth  and  Moon. — Climax  of  the  Impres- 
sive Scene 196 

XX. 

Conspiracy  and  Trial  of  Aaron  Burr. — 1806. 
Lawless  Scheme  of  Conquest  and  Dominion  at  the  South-west. — A  New  Empire  Contemplated, 
with  Burr  as  Sovereign. — Seizure  of  His  Flotilla  and  Dispersion  of  His  Men  when  Ready 
to  Embark,  by  the  Federal  Forces. — Capture  and  Arraignment  of  Burr  for  High  Treason. — 


CONTENTS.  23 

Reckless  Character  of  Burr. — His  Unscrupulous  Ambitions. — Enlists  Blennerhassett  in  His 
Plans. — Their  Expedition  Arranged. — ]\Iexico  the  Ultimate  Point. — Discovery  of  the  Whole 
Plot. — Its  Complete  Frustration. — Burr  Flees  in  Disguise. — Scene  at  His  Arrest. — Attempt 
to  Escape. — The  Iron-Hearted  Man  in  Tears. —  His  Social  Fascination. — Preparations  for  the 
Trial. — Its  Legal  and  Forensic  Interest. — Acquittal  on  Technical  Grounds. — Shunned  as  a 
Man  of  Infamy. — Devotion  of  His  Daughter  Theodosia. — Lifelong  and  Unalterable  Love. — 
Her  Mysterious  Fate. — Burr's  Anguish  and  Agony. — A  Moral  Wreck  and  Warning.    .     204 

XXI. 

Fulton's  Triumphant  Application  of  Steam  to  Navigation. — 1807. 
First  Steam-boat  Voyage  on  American  Waters  under  His  Direction. — Astonishment  Produced 
by  the  Exhibition. — Great  Era  in  National  Development. — The  World  at  Large  Indebted  to 
American  Ingenuity  and  Enterprise  for  this  Mighty  Revolutionary  Agent  in  Human  Prog- 
ress and  Povper. — The  Whole  Scale  of  Civilization  Enlarged. — Fulton's  Early  Mechanisms. 
— His  Inventive  Projects  Abroad. — Steam  Propulsion  the  End  Sought. — Various  Experi- 
ments and  Trials. — Livingston's  Valued  Co-operation. — Studying  the  Principle  Involved. — 
Its  Discovery  at  Last. — Legislative  Encouragement  Asked. — Public  Ridicule  of  the  Scheme. 
—  Construction  of  a  Steam-boat. — The  "  Queer-Looking  Craft." — Incidents  at  the  Launch. — 
Undaunted  Confidence  of  Fulton. — Sailing  of  the  "  New-Fangled  Craft." — Demonstrations 
Along  the  Route. — Complete  Success  of  the  Trip. — First  Passage  Money. — That  Bottle  of 
Wine. — Opposition  Lines,  and  Racing. — First  Steam-boat  at  the  West. — Amazing  Subse- 
quent Increase. — Fulton's  Checkered  Fortunes.       .     *    .     .    .         212 


XXIL 

Extensive  and  Calamitous  Earthquake  at  fHE  West. — 1811. 
Its  Convulsive  Force  Felt  All  Over  the  Valley  of  the  Mississippi  and  to  the  Atlantic  Coast. — 
The  Earth  Suddenly  Bursts  Open  and  a  Vast  Region  of  Country  is  Sunk  and  Lost. — Awful 
Chasms  and  Upheavals. — Ruin  and  Desolation  Brought  upon  the  Inhabitants. — Humboldt's 
Interesting  Opinion  of  the  AVestern  Earthquake. — Its  Central  Point  of  Violence. — Terrible 
Consternation  Produced. — The  Ground  Swellings  and  Crackings. — Great  Agitation  of  the 
Waters. — Houses  Buried,  Boats  Wrecked. — Giant  Forests  Crushed. — Purple  Tinge  of  the 
Atmosphere. — Thunder,  Lightning,  Flood,  etc. — A  Mighty  Struggle. — Hills  and  Islands  Dis- 
appear.— Burial  Grounds  Engulfed. — Nature's  Secrets  Unbosomed. — Lakes  Drained,  New 
One8  Formed. — Present  Aspect  of  the  Country. — Account  of  the  More  Recent  Earthquakes 
in  California,  Their  Characteristics  and  Destructiveness. — Most  Serious  in  San  Francisco. — 
Lives  and  Property  Lost. — Women  and  Children  Panic-Struck. — Direction  of  the  Shocks. — 
Indications  of  Their  Approach. — Effect  in  the  Harbor  and  Bay 218 


XXIII. 

Capture  of  the  British  Frigate  Guerriere  by  the  United  States  Frigate  Con- 
stitution.— 1812. 

Captain  Dacres's  Insolent  Challenge  to  the  American  Navy.— Captain  Hull's  Eager  Accept- 
ance.—His  Unrivaled  Tactics  and  Maneuvers.— A  Short,  Terrific,  Decisive  Contest.— Yankee 
Valor  on  the  Ocean  a  Fixed  Fact,  Sternly  Respected.— The  Constitution  Becomes  the  Favor- 
ite Ship  of  the  Nation  and  is  Popularly  Called  "  Old  Ironsides."— Cruise  of  the  Constitution. 
—Hull,  the  "  Sea  King,"  in  Command.— A  Sail !  The  Enemy's  Squadron !— Chased  Three 
Days  by  Them.— Rowing  and  Warping  in  a  Calm.— Most  Wonderful  Escape  on  Record.— 
Another  Frigate  in  Sight,  the  Guei-riere.— Her  Signals  of  Defiance.— Yankee  Eagerness  for 
Action.— The  Two  Frigates  Afoul.— Yard-Arm  to  Yard- Arm  Encounter.— Fire  of  the  Con- 
stitution Reserved.— Final  and  Deadly  Broadsides.— Fearless  Conduct  of  Her  Crew.— British 
Colors  Hauled  Down.— Sinking  of  the  Shattered  Wreck.— Armament  and  Power  of  the 
Ships.— An  Almost  Equal  Match.— Anecdotes  of  the  Two  Commanders.— Honors  to  th-^ 
Brave  Victors.— Future  Annals  of  the  Constitution.— Her  Varied  and  Noble  Career.     .     225 


24  CONTENTS. 

XXIV. 

America  and  England  Matched  Against  Each  Other  in  Squadron  Combat. — 1813. 

Lake  Erie  the  Scene  of  the  Encounter. — Sixteen  Vessels  Engaged. — The  British,  under  Captain 
Barclay,  one  of  Lord  Nelson's  Veteran  Officers,  and  with  a  Superior  Force,  are  Thoroughly 
Beaten  by  the  Americans,  under  Commodore  Oliver  H.  Perry. — Every  British  Vessel  Cap- 
tured.— General  Harrison  Completes  the  Victorious  Work  on  Land. — Building  of  the  Fleet 
on  the  Lake. — Great  Difficulties  to  be  Overcome. — Commodore  Perry  the  Master  Spirit. — 
Completion  and  Sailing  of  the  Fleet. — Challenge  to  the  Enemy. — Line  of  Battle  Formed. — 
Perry's  Blue  Union-Jack.— Its  Motto,  "  Don't  Give  Up  the  Ship  !  "—Wild  Enthusiasm  of  His 
Men. — Flagship  Lawrence  in  the  Van. — Meets  the  Whole  Opposing  Fleet. — Badly  Crippled 
in  a  Two  Hours'  Fight. — Huzzas  of  the  Enemy. — The  Day  Supposed  to  be  Theirs. — Indomi- 
table Resolution  of  Perry. — He  Pats  Off  in  an  Open  Boat. — Reaches  the  Niagara  with  His 
Flag. — Again  Battles  with  the  Foe. — Severe  and  Deadly  Conflict. — American  Prowess  Invin- 
cible.— Barclay  Strikes  His  Colors. — Perry  only  Twenty-seven  Years  Old 234 

XXV. 

Conquest  and  Burning  of  Washington,  by  the  British. — 1814. 
Precipitate  Flight  of  the  President  of  the  United  States,  and  His  Cabinet. — The  Capitals  of 
Em'ope  Protected  from  Fire  and  Devastation  by  Their  Conquerors. — Contrast  of  British  War- 
fare in  America. — The  Capitol,  Presidential  Mansion,  etc..  Sacked  and  Fired. — National  In- 
dignation Aroused  by  these  Barbarities. — Veterans  from  Europe's  Battle-Fields  Execute 
these  Deeds. — Orders  to  "Lay  Waste"  the  American  Coast. — Operations  at  the  South. — 
Washington  the  Prize  in  View. — Inefficiency  of  its  Defense.— Winder  and  Barney  in  Com- 
mand.— The  Idea  of  an  Attack  Scouted. — Onward  March  of  the  Invaders. — Fearful  Excite- 
ment in  the  City.— High  Officials  in  Camp. — The  Armies  at  Bladensburg. — Winder  De- 
feated, Barney  Taken. — Ross's  Progress  Unopposed. — Complete  Master  of  the  City. — A  Rush 
for  the  Spoils. — British  Soldiers  in  the  White  House. — They  Eat  the  President's  Dinner. — 
Cockburn's  Bold  Infamy. — Retreat  of  the  Vandal  Foe. — Their  March  upon  Baltimore. — Ross 
Shot  Dead  in  the  Fight 242 

XXVL 

McDonough's  Naval  Victory  on  Lake  Champlain. — 1814. 

The  Projected  British  Invasion  of  the  Northern  States,  by  Land  and  Water,  Frustrated  by  an 
Overwhelming  Blow  on  their  Favorite  Element. — Most  Unexpected  and  Mortifying  Result 
to  the  Enemy's  Pride. — Not  One  of  the  Seventeen  Bi'itish  Ensigns  Alsible  Two  Hours  After 
the  Opening  of  the  Action  by  Downie. — McDonough's  Laconic  Message. — British  Advance 
on  New  York. — Grand  Scheme  of  Conquest. — Picked  Men  Employed. — Gi-eat  Lund  and 
Naval  Force. — Their  Fleet  on  Lake  Champlain. — Downie,  a  Brave  Officer,  Commands  — 
Flushed  Confidence  of  Victory. — Pleasure  Parties  to  "  See  the  Fight." — Pluck  of  Commo- 
dore McDonough. — His  Pi'ayer  on  the  Eve  of  Battle. — Strange  and  lieautiful  Omen. — Its 
Inspiriting  Effect  on  the  ]\Icn. — McDonough  Sights  the  First  Gun. — The  Flagships  in  Close 
Grap[)le. — Their  Aspect  Like  a  Sheet  of  Fire. — Tremendous  Cannonade. — The  Two  Fleets 
in  Full  Action. —  Desperate  Situation  of  Both. —  McDonough's  Extraordinary  Resort. — 
Downie  Completely  Circumvented. — At  the  Mercy  of  the  Americans. — No  English  Flag  on 
the  Lakes 250 

XXVIL 
General  Jackson's  Terrible  Rout  and  Slaughter  of  the  British  Army,  at  New 

Orleans. — 1815. 
His  Consummate  Generalship  in  the  Order  and  Conduct  of  this  Campaign.— The  War  with 
England  Terminated  by  a  Sudden  and  Splendid  Victory  to  tlie  American  Arms. — Jackson  is 
Hailed  as  One  of  the  Greatest  of  IModern  Warriors,  and  as  the  Deliverer  and  Second  Savior 
of  His  Country. — National  Military  Prestige  Gained  by  this  Decisive  Battle. — British  Inva- 
sion of  Louisiana. — Preparations  to  Resist  Them. — Jackson  Hastens  to  New  Orleans. — His 
Presence  Iusi>ires  Confidence. — Martial  Law  Proclaimed.— Progress  of  the  British  Forces. — 


CONTENTS.  25 

They  Rendezvous  at  Ship  Island.— rirates  and  Indians  for  Allies. — Capture  of  the  United 
States  Flotilla. — Arrival  of  Veterans  from  England.— Desperate  Attempts  at  Storming. — 
Both  Armies  Face  Each  Other. — The  Day  of  Action,  January  Eighth. — General  Pakenham 
Leads  the  Charge.— His  Motto,  "Booty  and  Beauty." — Fire  and  Death  Open  Upon  Them. — 
They  Are  Mown  Down  Like  Grass. — Pakenham  Falls  at  the  Onset. — Panic  and  Precipitate 
Retreat. — America's  Motto,  "  Victory  or  Death." — The  Result  at  Home  and  Abroad. — Start- 
ling and  Impressive  Effect 257 

XXVIII. 
The  Ever-Memorable  September  Gale. — 1815. 
Its  Violence  and  Destructiveness  without  a  Parallel  Since  the  Settlement  of  the  Country. — 
Terror  Excited  by  its  Sudden  and  Tumultuous  Force. — Unprecedented  Phenomena  of  Tem- 
pest, Deluge  and  Flood. — One  Hour  of  Indescribable  Havoc  on  the  Land  and  Sea. — Premon- 
itory Indications. — Heavy  North-east  Rains. — Sudden  and  Violent  Changes  of  Wind. — Its 
Rapidity  and  Force  Indescribable. — Demolition  of  Hundreds  of  Buildings. — Orchards  and 
Forests  Instantly  Uprooted. — Raging  and  Foaming  of  the  Sea. — Its  Spray  Drives  like  a 
Snow-Storm  over  the  Land. — Tremendous  Rise  in  the  Tides. — Irresistible  Impetuosity  of  the 
Flood. — Several  Feet  of  Water  in  the  Streets.— Innumerable  Fragments  Fill  the  Air. — Flight 
for  Safety  to  the  Fields.— The  whole  Coast  Swarms  with  Wrecks. — Perils,  Escapes,  Fatali- 
ties.—Peculiar  Meteorological  Facts.— Bright  Skies  in  the  Midst  of  the  Tempest. — Suffo- 
cating Current  of  Hot  Air.— Sea  Fowls  in  the  Depths  of  the  Interior. — Effect  upon  Lands, 
Crops,  and  Wells. — All  New  England  Desolated. — Comparison  with  Other  Gales-      .     .     264 


XXIX. 

Visit  of  Lafayette  to  America,  as  the  Guest  of  the  Republic. — 1824. 
His  Tour  of  Five  Thousand  Miles  through  the  Twenty-four  States. — A  National  Ovation  on 
the  Grandest  Scale.— Cities,  States,  Legislatures  and  Governors,  Vie  in  Their  Demonstrations 
of  Respect. — The  Venerable  Patriot  Enters  the  Tomb  and  Stands  beside  the  Remains  of  his 
Great  Departed  Friend,  Washington.— Noble  Qualities  of  the  Marquis.— A  Favorite  of 
Louis  XVI.— Hears  of  the  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill. — Pleads  the  Cause  of  the  Americans.— 
Resolves  to  Join  their  Army. — Freely  Consecrates  his  Vast  Wealth. — Equips  a  Vessel  and 
Embarks. — Introduced  to  General  Washington. — Admiration  of  Him  by  the  Chieftain. — One 
of  Washington's  Military  Family.— A  Major-General  in  His  Nineteenth  Year.— Heroic  Fi- 
delity During  the  War.— Subsequent  Vicissitudes  in  France.— America's  Heart-felt  Sym- 
pathy.—He  Leaves  Havre  for  New  York.— Enthusiasm  Excited  by  his  Presence.— Incidents, 
Interviews,  Fetes.— Greetings  with  Old  Comrades.— Memories.  Joys  and  Tears.— Departs  in 
the  United  States  Ship  Lafayette.— His  Death  in  1831.— National  Grief 272 


XXX. 

Duel   between   Henry   Clay,  Secretary   of    State,  and  John   Randolph,  United 

States  Senator  from  Virginia. — 1826. 

Randolph's  Bitter  Insult  to  Clay  on  the  Floor  of  the  Senate.— Accuses  him  of  Falsifying  an 
Official  Document.- The  Puritan  and  "  Blackleg  "  Taunt.— Clay  Challenges  the  Senator  to 
Mortal  Combat.— Words  and  Acts  of  these  Two  Foremost  Men  of  their  Times,  on  the  "  Field 
of  Honor."— Result  of  the  Hostile  Meeting.— Fame  of  these  Party  Leaders.— Ancient  Politi- 
cal Antagonists.— Origin  of  the  Present  Dispute.— Randolph's  Gift  of  Sarcasm.— Applies  it 
Severely  to  Clay  —Clay  Demands  Satisfaction.- Reconciliation  Refused.— Bladensburg  the 
Dueling  Ground.— Pistols  the  Weapons  Chosen.— Colonel  Benton  a  INTutual  Frit'nd.— Inci- 
dents the  Night  Before.— Randolph's  Secret  Resolve.— Going  to  the  Field  of  Blood.— View 
of  this  Shrine  of  "  Chivalry."— Salutations  of  the  Combatants.— Solemn  Interest  of  the 
Scene.— Distance  Ten  Paces.— A  Harmless  Exchange  of  Shots.— Clay  Calls  it  "Child's 
Play !  "—Another  Fire.  —  No  Iniury.  —  "  Honor  "  Satisfied.  —Pleasant  Talk  with  Each 
Other 282 


26  CONTENTS. 

XXXI. 

Fiftieth   Anniversary  and   Celebration  of   the  Independence  of  the 

Republic— 1826. 

Sudden  and  Simultaneous  Death  of  Ex-Presidents  John  Adams  and  Thomas  Jefferson,  its  Two 
Most  Illustrious  Founders. — The  Day  of  Resounding  Joy  and  Jubilee  Changed  to  One  of 
Profound  National  Sorrow, — No  Historical  Parallel  to  Such  a  Remarkable  Coincidence. — 
World-Renowned  Career  of  these  Statesmen. — Extraordinary  Preparations  for  the  Day. — 
Adams  and  Jefferson  then  Alive. — Sires  and  Patriarchs  of  the  Nation. — Their  Names  House- 
hold Words. — Invited  to  Share  in  the  Festivities. — They  Hail  the  Glorious  Morn. — Great 
Rejoicings ;  Death's  Summons. — Jefferson's  Distinguishing  Honor. — Adams's  Patriotic  Lus- 
ter.— Their  Imperishable  Deeds. — Calm  Yet  High  Enthusiasm. — Hostile  Leaders  in  After- 
Life. — Racy  and  Piquant  Anecdote. — Crisis  Point  in  Adams's  Fortunes. — His  Last  Toast 
for  His  Country, — "  Independence  Forever." — Two  Sages  in  Old  Age. — Serenity,  Wisdom, 
Dignity. — Former  Friendship  Revived. — Letters  of  Mutual  Attachment. — European  Admir- 
ation Excited, — Revereirce  to  Their  Colossal  Fame • 291 

XXXII, 

The  "  Great  Debate  "  between  Webster  and  Hayne,  in  Congress. — 1830, 

Vital  Constitutional  Issues  Discussed.—  Unsurpassed  Power  and  Splendor  of  Senatorial  Elo- 
quence.— Webster's  Speech  Acknowledged  to  be  the  Grandest  Forensic  Achievement  in  the 
Whole  Range  of  Modern  Parliamentary  Efforts. — Golden  Age  of  American  Oratoi-y, — Un- 
precedented Interest  and  Excitement  Produced  in  the  Public  Mind. — No  American  Debate 
Comparable  with  This. — Known  as  "  The  Battle  of  the  Giants." — Inflamed  Feeling  at  the 
South. — Hayne's  Brilliant  Championship. — His  Speech  Against  the  North. — Profound  Im- 
pression Created. — Its  Dash,  Assurance,  Severity. — Bitter  and  Sweeping  Charges. — His  Op- 
ponents Wonder-Struck. — Webster  has  the  Floor  to  Reply. — An  Ever-Memorable  Day. — 
Intense  Anxiety  to  Hear  Him. — Magnificent  Personal  Appearance. — His  Exordium ;  All 
Hearts  Enchained. — Immense  Intellectual  Range. — Copious  and  Crushing  Logic. — Accumu- 
lative Grandeur  of  Thought. — Thrilling  Apostrophe  to  the  Union. — The  Serious,  Comic, 
Pathetic,  etc. — Hayne's  Argument  Demolished, — Reception  Accorded  the  Speech. — Rival 
Orators ;  Pleasant  Courtesies 297 

XXXIIL 

Rise   and   Progress   of   the   Mormons,   or   "  Latter-Day   Saints,"  under  Joseph 

Smith,  the  "  Prophet  of  the  Lord." — 1830. 

His  Assumed  Discovery  of  the  Golden  Plates  of  a  New  Bible. — Apostles  Sent  Forth  and  Con- 
verts Obtained  in  All  Parts  of  the  World. — Founding  and  Destruction  of  Nauvoo,  the  *'  City 
of  Zion." — Smith's  Character. — Removal  to  Utah,  the  "  Promised  Land." — Smith  the  "  Mo- 
hammed of  the  West." — His  Origin  and  Repute. — Pretended  Supernatural  Interviews, — 
Revelations  of  Divine  Records. — Finds  and  Translates  Them, — Secret  History  of  this 
Transaction. — Pronounced  to  be  a  Fraud. — Teacliings  of  the  Mormon  Bible. — Smith  Claims 
to  be  Inspired. — Announced  as  a  Second  Savior, — Organization  of  the  First  Church. — 
Strange  Title  Adopted. —  Smith's  Great  Personal  Influence. — Rapid  Increase  of  the  Sect. — 
Settlement  at  the  West. — Violent  Opposition  to  Them. — Outrages,  Assassinations,  Riots. — 
Polygamy  "  Divinely  "  Authorized. — Smith  in  Jail  as  a  Criminal. — Is  Shot  Dead  by  a  Furi- 
ous Mob, — Brigham  Young  His  Successor, — The  "  New  Jerusalem." 306 

XXXIV. 

Career,  Capture,  and  Execution  of  Gibbs,  the  Most  Noted  Pirate  of  the  Cen- 
tury,—1831. 

His  Bold,  Enterprising,  Desperate,  and  Successful  War,  for  Many  Years,  Against  the  Com- 
merce of  All  Nations. — Terror  Inspired  by  His  Name  as  the  Scourge  of  the  Ocean  and  the 
Enemy  of  Mankind. — Scores  of  Vessels  Taken,  Plundered  and  Destroyed. — Their  Ciews 
and  Passengers,  Male  and  Female,  Instantly  Butchered. — Gibbs  Born  in  Rhode  Island.— 


CONTENTS.  27 

Joins  the  Privateer  Maria. — Captures  Her  in  a  Mutiny. — Hoists  the  Black  Flag. — Gibbs 
Chosen  Leader. — Rendezvous  at  Cape  Antonio. — Booty  Sold  in  Havana. — No  Lives  Spared. 
— One  Beautiful  Girl  Excepted. — Atrocious  Use  Made  of  Her. — The  Maria  Chased  All  Day. 
— Her  Final  Abandonment. — A  New  Craft  :  Rich  Prizes. — Fight  with  a  United  States 
Frigate. — Gibbs  Overmatched  and  Flees. — Fatal  Voyage  in  the  Vineyard. — Lands  at  South- 
ampton, L.  I. — His  Infamy  Brought  to  Light. — Ai-rested  with  His  Treasure. — Confession  of 
His  Guilt. — Black  Record  of  Crime  and  Blood.— Close  of  His  Ill-Starred  Life.    .    .     .     314 

XXXV. 

Nullification   Outbreak   in     South    Carolina,    under    the    Lead    of    Calhoun, 

McDuFFiE,  Hayne,  and  Others. — 1832. 

State  Sovereignty,  instead  of  the  Federal  Government,  Claimed  by  Them  to  be  Supreme. — 
The  Wrath  of  President  Jackson  Aroused. — His  Stern  and  Heroic  Will  Upholds  the  Na- 
tional Authority  and  Saves  the  Union  from  Anarchy  and  from  the  Perils  of  Dismember- 
ment.— Momentous  Nature  of  this  Contest. — The  Tariff  a  Rock  of  Offense. — Action  in  the 
"  Palmetto  "  State. — Anti-National  and  Defiant. — Pacific  Proposals  Scouted. — A  Political 
Dinner  in  Washington. — Jackson's  and  Calhoun's  Toasts. — Plan  of  the  Conspirators. — A 
Bomb-shell  in  Their  Camp. — Convention  of  Agitators  in  Columbia. — Nullification  Ordinance 
Passed. — "  Old  Hickory  "  Bold  and  Resolute. — His  Peremptory  Proclamation. — South  Caro- 
lina's Counter-Blast. — United  States  Troops  Sent  to  Charleston. — Presidential  Idea  of  Com- 
promising.— Clay's  Conciliation  Scheme. — The  Leading  Nullifiers  in  Danger. — Jackson 
Threatens  to  Hang  Them. — They  are  Roused  from  Bed  at  Midnight. — Two  Alternatives 
Presented. —  Swallowing  a  Bitter  Pill 320 

XXXVI. 

Sublime  Meteoric  Shower  all  over  the  United  States. — 1833. 
The  Most  Grand  and  Brilliant  Celestial  Phenomenon  Ever  Beheld  and  Recorded  by  Man. — The 
Whole  Firmament  of  the  Universe  in  Fiery  Commotion  for  Several  Hours. — Amazing  Veloc- 
ity, Size,  and  Profusion  of  the  Falling  Bodies. — Their  Intense  Heat,  Vivid  Colors,  and 
Strange,  Glowing  Beauty. — Unequaled  in  Every  Respect. — Cloudless  Serenity  of  the  Sky. — 
The  People  Wonder-Struck. — Admiration  Among  the  Intelligent. — Alarm  Among  the  Ignor- 
ant.— Conflagration  of  the  AVorld  Feared. — Impromptu  Prayer-^Ieetings. — Prodigious  Star 
Shower  at  Boston. — Myriads  of  Blood-Red  Fire-balls. — The  Display  at  Niagara  Falls. — Blaz- 
ing Heavens,  Roaring  Cataracts. — Some  of  the  Meteors  Explode. — Trains  of  Light  in  their 
Track. — Radiant  Prismatic  Hues. — Substance  Composing  these  Bodies. — l)issi[)ated  by 
Bursting. — One  Great  Central  Source. — Velocity,  Four  Miles  a  Second. — Novel  Shapes  and 
Motions.— Hotter  than  the  Hottest  Furnace.— Possible  Result  to  the  Earth.— Half  a  Conti- 
nent in  Presumed  Jeopardy <     .    <    .    * 329 

XXXVII. 

Attempted  Assassination  of  President  Jackson,  at  thf;  United  States  Capitol 
IN  Washington,  by  Richard  Lawrence. — 1835. 

Failure  of  the  Pistols  to  Discharge.— The  President  Rushes  Furiously  upon  His  Assailant,  and 
is  Restrained  from  Executing  Summary  Vengeance  only  by  His  Friends. — Political  Hostil- 
ity Supposed,  at  first,  to  have  Instigated  the  Act. — Lawrence  Proves  to  be  a  Lunatic,  without 
Accomplices.— His  History  and  Trial.— Funeral  of  a  Member  of  Congress.— Great  Concourse 
at  the  Capitol.— President  Jackson  and  Cabinet  Present.— Lawrelice  Enters  during  the  Ser- 
mon.—Moves  to  the  Eastern  Portico.— President  Jackson  Leaves  Avith  Secretary  Woodbury. 
—Their  Carriage  at  the  Portico  Steps.— Approach  to  Lawrence's  Position.— He  Levels  a 
Pistol  at  Jackson.— Explosion  of  the  Percussion  Cap.— A  Second  Pistol  Snapped.— Jackson 
Raises  His  Cane  Fiercely.— Lion-like  Energy  of  the  Old  Hero.— Is  with  Difficulty  Kept  Back. 
—Lawrence  Stunned  and  Secured.— His  Perfect  Calmness  through  AIL— The  Crowd  Wish  to 
Kill  Him.— Fine  Appearance  of  the  Assassin.— Frank  Avowal  of  His  Motives.— Insane  Idea 
Possessing  Him. — Claims  to  be  a  King. — Is  Confined  in  a  Mad-house 337 


28  CONTENTS. 

XXXYIII. 

Morse's  Invention  of  the  Electric  Telegraph. — 1835. 

Realization  of  the  Highest  Ideal  of  a  Mechanical  Miracle. — Principle,  Structure,  and  Operation 
of  the  Machine. — Net- Work  of  Lines  Established  Over  the  Four  Continents. — The  Inventor's 
Experiments,  Labors,  Discouragements,  and  Trimnphs. — "Orders  of  Glory,"  Gifts,  and 
Other  Honors,  Bestowed  upon  Him  by  Crowned  Heads. — Casual  Origin  of  the  Invention. — 
Mr.  Morse's  European  Voyage  in  1832. — Recent  French  Experiments  then  Discussed. — Im- 
portant Question  and  Ansv^^er. — Two  Great  Existing  Facts. — The  Electric  Spark  Transmis- 
sive. — Easy  Control  of  the  Current. — Theory  Applied  to  Practice. — Completion  of  a  Crude 
Model. — Private  Exhibition  in  183.5. — Simplicity  of  the  Instrument. — The  Invention  Made 
Public  in  1837. — Wonder  and  Incredulity. — Appeal  to  Congress  for  Pecuniary  Aid. — Merci- 
less Ridicule  Ensues. — Scene  in  the  Committee-Room. — A  Machine  at  the  Capitol. — Perfect 
in  Its  Operation. — Success  of  Morse's  Appeal. — His  Joy  at  the  Decision. — Putting  Up  the 
Wires  to  Baltimore. — First  Message  Through 345 

XXXIX. 

Tremendous  Fire  in  New  York  City. — 1835. 

Its  Destructiveness  Unparalleled,  up  to  this  Period,  in  the  Western  World. — Resistless  Devas- 
tation for  Sixteen  Hours  in  Midwinter. — A  Pall  of  Ruin  and  Desolation  over  the  Richest 
Business  Locality  in  America. — Nearly  Seven  Hundred  Warehouses,  Filled  with  Costly  Mer- 
chandise, and  the  Commerce  of  Every  Clime,  Laid  in  Ashes. — Loss  Upwards  of  Eighteen 
Millions. — Peculiar  Seat  of  this  Fire. — The  Money  Center  of  America. — Breaking  Out  in  the 
Evening. — Fury  of  the  North  Wind. — The  Flames  Spread  Violently.— Bitter  and  Intense 
Cold. — Freezing  of  the  Engine  Water. — All  the  Elements  Hostile. — Human  Endeavors  Pow- 
erless.— Acres  on  Fire  at  Midnight. — Sweeps  from  Point  to  Point. — Mingled  Horror  and 
Sublimity. — Efforts  to  Save  the  Exchange. — Fate  of  that  Splendid  Pile. — Fall  of  its  Magnifi- 
cent Dome. — Numberless  Reverses  of  Fortune. — Rich  Men  IVIade  Penniless. — A  Singular 
Exception. — Swarms  of  Bold  Robbers. — Military  Protection  Required. — Discovery  of  a 
Diabolical  Crime. — Supposed  Cause  of  the  Fire 353 

XL. 

Struggle  for  the  Right  of  Petition  in  Congress. — 1836. 

John  Quincy  Adams,  the  "  Old  Man  Eloquent,"  Carries  on  a  Contest  of  Eleven  Days,  Single- 
Handed,  in  its  Defense  in  the  House  of  Representatives. — Passage  of  the  "  Gag  Rule." — Ex- 
pulsion and  Assassination  Threatened. — His  Unquailing  Courage. — A  Spectacle  Unwitnessed 
before  in  the  Halls  of  Legislation. — Triumph  of  His  Master  Mind. — The  Right  of  Petition  a 
Constitutional  One. — Indiscriminate  and  Unrestricted. — Anti-Slavery  Petitions.  Mr.  Adams 
Their  Champion. — An  Unpopular  Position. — He  Defies  Every  Menace. — His  Bold  and  In- 
trepid Conduct. — The  North  and  South  at  Variance, — Monster  Petitions  Pour  In. — A  ^le- 
morial  from  Slaves. — Wild  Tumult  in  the  House. —Cries  of  "Expel  the  Old  Scoundrel!" — 
Proposal  to  Censure  and  Disgrace  Him. — Mr.  Adams  Unmoved  Amidst  the  Tempest. — Elo- 
quence and  Indomitableness. — A  Petition  to  Dissolve  the  Union. — Increased  Exasperation. 
— Violent  and  Denunciatory  Debate. — Sublime  Bearing  of  Mr.  Adams. — Vindicated  and 
Victorious  at  Last  — What  He  Lived  to  See. — Honor  from  His  Opponents 362 

XLL 

Passage  of  Benton's  Famous  "  Expunging  Resolution,"  in  the  U.  S.  Senate,  after 
A  Three  Years  Parliamentary  Struggle. — 1837. 

Vindication  of  President  Jackson  against  the  Condemnatory  Sentence  Passed  by  that  Body  in 
1831,  for  His  Removal  of  the  Government  Deposites. — Strong  Black  Lines  are  Drawn  Around 
Said  Sentence,  by  the  Secretary,  in  the  Presence  of  the  Senate  and  of  a  Vast  and  Tumultu- 
ous Crowd,  at  Midnight. — Opposition  to  the  United  States  Bank. — Jackson's  Message  against 
It. — Public  Opinion  Divided. — Congress  Grants  a  Charter. — Presidential  Veto  of  this  Bill. — 
Jackson  Denounces  the  Bank. — Declares  it  to  be  Corrupt. — Orders  the  United  States  Funds 
Removed. — Secretary  Duane  Declines  to  Act. — Taney  Succeeds  Him  and  Obeys. — Fierce 


CONTENTS.  29 

Conflict  in  Congress. — "Weeks  of  Stormy  Debate. — Proposed  Censure  of  Jackson.-  Resolu- 
tion to  this  Effect  Passed. — Benton's  Motion  to  Expunge. — He  Follows  it  up  Unceasingly. — 
His  Consummate  Tact. — Approach  of  the  Decisive  Hour. — Excited  Crowds  Pour  In. — Triumph 
of  the  Master  Spirit. — Execution  of  the  Resolve. — Strange  and  Impressive  Scene.     .     .     ;i73 

XLII. 

Magnificent  Aurora  Borealis  Encompassing  the  Whole  Firmament  to  its  Far- 
thest Bounds. — 1837. 

A  Vast  Canopy  of  Gorgeous  Crimson  Flames  Encircles  the  Earth. — Arches  of  Resplendent 
Auroral  (ilories  Span  the  Hemisphere. — Innumerable  Scarlet  Columns  of  Dazzling  Beauty 
Rise  from  the  Horizon  to  the  Zenith. — The  Face  of  Nature  Everywhere  Appears,  to  an  As- 
tonished World,  as  if  Dyed  in  Blood. — Uncommon  Extent  and  Sublimity. — Remarkable 
Duration  and  Aspects. — Intensely  Luminous  Character. — Universal  Outburst  of  Luster. — 
Preceded  by  a  Fall  of  Snow. — First  Signs  of  the  Phenomenon. — Exquisite  Rosy  Illumina- 
tion.— The  Snow  Appears  Deep  Red. — A  Fiery  Vermilion  Tinge  to  Nature. — Alarm  Pro- 
duced by  the  Scene.. — Great  Moving  Pillar  of  Light. — Vivid  Streamers  in  All  Directions. — 
Pm-e  White  and  Brilliant  Colors. — Contrast  of  the  Glowing  Tints. — Wide  Fields  of  Rainbow 
Hues. — Radiant  Beauty  Heaven  Wide. — Superlative  Pageant  of  Splendor. — Perfection  of  the 
Stellar  Form. — Millions  of  Wondering  Observers. — Visible  Nearly  the  Whole  Night. — Ac- 
counts from  Different  Points. — Europe's  Share  in  the  Display 379 

XLIII. 

Exploring  Expedition  to  the  South  Pole,  under  Command  of  Captain  Charles 

Wilkes,  United  States  Navy. — 1838. 

First  Naval  Enterprise  of  the  Kind  Ever  Undertaken  by  the  American  Navy. — The  Squadron 
Sails  Ninety  Thousand  Miles  in  Four  years. — Extent  and  Importance  of  the  Investigations. 
— Discovery  of  the  Great  Antarctic  Continent. — Other  Geographical,  Nautical,  and  Scientific 
Results. — Selection  of  Officers  and  Vessels. — A  Scientific  Corps  Organized. — Route  Pre- 
scribed ;  Seas  and  Lands. — Enthusiastic  Departure. — Arrival  at  Terra  del  Fuego. — Observa- 
tions at  Cape  Horn. — Excursion  to  the  Cordilleras. — Ascent  of  a  Lofty  Peak. — Desolation 
and  Silence  — New  Islands  Discovered. — An  Observatory  Established. — The  Samoan  Group 
Examined. — Descent  into  an  Extinct  Volcano. — New  South  Wales  Visited. — Extreme  South- 
ward Cruise. — View  of  the  Ice-Bound  Continent. — A  Landing  Effected. — Account  of  this 
Achievement. — Experiences  at  Feejee. — On  the  Summit  of  Mauna-Loa. — Homeward-Bound 
Tracks. — Safe  Arrival 386 

XLIV. 
Breaking  Out  of  the  Temperance  Reformation. — 1840. 
Origin,  Rapid  Spread,  Influence  and  Wonderful  History  of  the  Movement. — Enthusiasm  At- 
tending the  "  Washingtonian  "  Era. — Its  Pioneers  Rise  from  the  Gutter  to  the  Rostrum,  and 
Sway  Multitudes  by  Their  Eloquence.— Father  Mathew's  Visit.— His  600,000  Converts.— Ca- 
reer of   Hawkins,  Mitchell,  Gough,  Dow,   and  Others.— First  Temperance   Society  in   the 
United  States. — Singular  Terms  of  Membership.— Social  Customs  in  Former  Times.— Unre- 
strained Use  of  Spirits.— Growing  Desire  for  Reform.— Influential  Men  Enlisted.— Meetings, 
Societies,  Agitation. — A  Congressional  Organization. — Origin  of  "  Tee-Totalism." — Deacon 
Giles's  Distillery.— '•  My  Mother's  Gold  Ring."— Rise  of  "  Washingtonianism."— Six   Re- 
formed Drunkards.— Cold  Water  Armies,  Processions,  etc.— Music,  Banners,  and  Badges.— 
The  Country  All  Ablaze.— An  "  Apostle  of  Temperance."— Administering  the  Pledge.— Con- 
flict Concerning  Measures. — Anecdotes  of  Washington. — General  Taylor's  Whiskey  Jug. — 
Farragut's  Substitute  for  Grog 393 

XLV. 
Fremont's   Heroic   Expedition  of   Discovery  to  the   Untracked   Region  of  the 

North-west,  Oregon,  California,  Etc. — 1842. 
His  Exploration  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  and  of  that  Wonderful  Gateway  in  the  Rocky  Mount- 
ains, the  South  Pass.— Plants  the  American  Flag  on  the  Highest  Peak  of  that  Lofty  Range. 


30  CONTENTS. 

— He  Enriches  Every  Branch  of  Natural  Science,  and  Illustrates  a  Eemote  and  Boundless 
Country  before  Entirely  Unknown. — Fremont  a  Pioneer  of  Empire. — National  Objects  of 
this  Tour. — Enchanting  Record  of  Adventures. —  Surveys  and  Researches. —  Humboldt's 
Tribute  of  Admii-ation. — Wild  Grandeur  of  the  Route. — Scenes  in  this  Vast  Domain. — 
The  Rocky  Mountains  ;  First  Glimpse. — Formation  of  the  South  Pass. — "  Kit  Carson,"  the 
Intrepid  Guide. — At  the  Topmost  Peak,  14,000  Feet. — Startling  Boldness  of  the  View. — 
Overpowering  Quiet  and  Solitude. — Evidences  of  Awful  Convulsions. — Unfurling  the  Flag 
of  the  Union. — Appearance  of  Great  Salt  Lake. — Eternal  Snows  of  the  Sierra  Nevada. — In 
the  San  Joaquin  Valley. — An  Immense  Circuit  of  Travel. — Fremont,  the  Modern  Path- 
Finder. — Honors  from  his  Countrymen. — A  King's  Gift  and  Regards 402 

XL  VI. 

Rebellion  in  Rhode  Island  under  Thomas  W.  Dorr. — 1842. 
Dissatisfaction  With  the  Old  Restricted  Charter  Granted  by  King  Charles. — Popular  Suffrage 
and  Equal  Political  Privileges  Demanded. —  Resistance  of  the  Party  in  Power  to  these 
Movements. — The  Contestants  Arm  and  Take  the  Field. — Defeat  of  the  Agitators  and  Flight 
of  Dorr. — Ultimate  Prevalence  of  Their  Principles. — A  Charter  Two  Hundred  Years  Old. — 
Its  Monarchical  Provisions. — Suffrage  for  Property  Holders. — Denied  to  all  Others. — An  Ex- 
clusive Legislature. —  Reformed  Measures  Demanded. —  A  People's  Convention  Called. — 
They  Form  a  Constitution. — Proclaimed  the  Supreme  Law. — Legislature  Chosen  under  It. — 
Thomas  W".  Dorr  Elected  Governor. — Is  Treated  as  a  Traitor. — Claims  to  be  the  People's 
Man. — Governor  King's  Military  Activity. — Dorr  Heads  a  Large  Force. — Tries  to  Seize  the 
Reins  of  Power. — Is  Routed  ;  Quits  the  State. — Returns  Again  to  the  Conflict. — Enti-enches 
at  Chepachet ;  Retreats. — Tried  for  Treason  and  Imprisoned. — Pardoned  and  Restored. — 
Something  About  "  Barn-Burning,"  or  the  Anti-Rent  Insurrection  in  New  York.  .     .     .     408 

XLVII. 

Mutiny  o??  Boapd  the  United   States   Brig-of-War   Somers,  Captain   A.  S.   Mac- 
kenzie.— 1842. 

Deep-Laid  Plot  to  Seize  the  Vessel,  Commit  Wholesale  Murder  of  Her  Men,  Raise  the  Black 
Flag,  and  Convert  Her  into  a  Pirate. — All  Prizes  to  be  Plundered.  Burnt,  Their  Crews 
Butchered,  and  Women  and  Girls  Ravished. — Midshipman  Spencer,  Son  of  a  L'nited  States 
Cabinet  Officer,  the  Ringleader. — The  Chief  Conspiiators  Hung  at  the  Yard-Arm. — First 
Mutiny  in  the  United  States  Navy. — Spencer's  Hold  Upon  His  Comrades. — Death  the  Pen- 
alty of  Disclosure. —  Confidence  Fortunately  Misplaced. — A  Man  of  Honor  Tampered  With. 
— Captain  Mackenzie  Informed  of  the  Plot. — Treats  it  as  Wild  and  Improbable. — Confronts 
and  Questions  Spencer. — Orders  Him  to  be  Ironed. — Plan  Found  in  His  Razor  Case. — 
Alarming  Disaffection  of  the  Crew. — None  of  the  Officers  Implicated. — Close  Investigation 
of  the  Case. — Spencer,  Cromwell,  and  Small,  to  Die. — Their  Fate  Announced  to  Them. — 
Spencer's  Account  of  His  Life. — They  Meet  on  Their  Way  to  be  Hung. — Treatment  of 
Each  Other. — Spencer  Begs  to  Give  the  Last  Signal. — Closing  Scene  of  the  Tragedy. — All 
Hands  Cheer  the  Ship. — Raising  the  Banner  of  the  Cross 415 

XLVIIL 

Sudden  Appearance  of  a  Great  and  Fiery  Comet  in  the  Skies  at  Noonday. — 1843. 

It  Sweeps  Through  the  Heavens,  for  Several  Weeks,  with  a  Luminous  Train  108,000,000 
Miles  in  Length. — Almost  Grazes  the  Sun,  and,  after  Whirling  Around  that  Orb  with  Pro- 
digious Velocity,  Approaches  the  Earth  with  a  Fearful  Momentum. — Its  Mysterious  Disappear- 
ance in  the  Unknown  Realms  and  Depths  of  Space. — Most  Notable  of  all  Comets. — First 
Visible  in  the  Day-time. — Its  Conspicuous  Aspect. — Strange  and  Chreatening  Motion. — Goes 
Twice  ArouTid  the  Sun. — Their  Su]>posed  Contact. — Becomes  Red  in  Passing. — Recedes 
Straight  to  the  Earth. — Watched  with  Deep  Concern. — Tlie  Magnetic  Needle  Agitated. — 
Wide  Fears  of  a  Collision. — Its  Probable  Result.— Indian  Terror  and  Prediction. — Triumphs 
of  Astronomy. — Diameter  of  the  Comet's  Head. — Measurement  of  Its  Tail. — Stars  Seen 
ITirough  the  Train. — Appearance  in  the  Equator. — Like  a  Stream  of  Molten  Fire. — Beauti- 
ful Ocean  Reflection. — Double  Sweep  of  the  Tail.— Other  Cometary  Phenomena.       .     .     424 


CONTENTS.  31 

XLIX. 

Expected  Destruction  op  the  World. — 1843. 

Miller's  Exciting  Prediction  of  the  Second  Advent  of  Christ. — The  Speedy  Fulfillment  of  the 
Latter-Day  Bible  Prophecies  Boldly  Declared. — Zealous  Promulgation  of  His  Views. — Scores 
of  Thousands  of  Converts. — Public  Feeling  Intensely  Wrought  Upon. — Preparations  by 
Many  for  the  Coming  Event. — The  Passing  of  the  Time. — Miller's  Apology  and  Defense. — 
— His  Deism  in  Early  Life. — Studies  History  and  Scripture. — Is  Struck  by  the  Prophecies. — 
Reads  Daniel  and  John,  Critically. — Calculates  Their  Time. — "About  1843,"  the  Consumma- 
tion.— Basis  of  these  Conclusions. — Reluctantly  Begins  to  Lecture. — Interesting  Incident. — 
His  Labors  and  Enthusiasm. — Three  Thousand  Lectures  in  Ten  Yeai's. — Secret  of  his  Great 
Success. — Approach  of  the  Final  Day. — Cessation  of  Secular  Pursuits. — Encamping  in  the 
Fields,  in  Grave-yards  and  on  Roofs. — Some  Curious  Extravagances. — Rebuked  by  Miller. 
— Repeated  Disappointments. — Misinterpretation  of  Texts. — Miller  as  a  Man  and  Preacher. 
— His  Calm  and  Happy  Death 431 


Awful  Explosion  of  Commodore    Stockton's  Great   Gun,  the  "Peacemaker,"  on 
Board  the  United  States  Steamship  Princeton. — 1844. 

The  Secretaries  of  State  and  of  the  Navy,  and  Other  Eminent  Persons,  Instantly  Killed. — 
Miraculous  Escape  of  the  President. — Sudden  Transition  from  the  Height  of  Human  Enjoy- 
ment to  the  Extreme  of  Woe. — Stockton's  High  Enthusiasm. — His  Vast  and  Beautiful  Ship. 
— Her  Model  and  Armament. — Styled  the  Pride  of  the  Navy. — Invitations  for  a  Grand  Gala 
Day. — President  Tyler  Attends. — Countless  Dignitaries  on  Board. — Array  of  Female  Beauty. 
— Music,  Toasts,  Wit  and  Wine. — Firing  of  the  Monster  Gun. — Its  Perfect  Success. — "  One 
more  Shot !  "  by  Request. — A  Stunning  and  Murderous  Blast. — Bursting  of  the  Gun, — Death 
All  Around. — Frightful  Shrieks  and  Groans. — Scattering  of  Mangled  Remains. — Agony  of 
Woman's  Heart. — Standing-Place  of  the  President :  Absent  Just  One  Moment. — The  Dead 
in  Union  Flags. — Funeral  at  the  White  House 439 

LI. 

Trial  and  Degradation  of  the  Bishops  of  the  Neav  York  and  Pennsylvania  Dio- 
ceses, FOR  Alleged  Immorality,  Etc. — 1844. 

These  Two  Most  Powerful  Prelates  in  the  Church  of  Their  Order  are  Struck  from  the  Roll  of 
the  Clergy,  while  in  the  Zenith  of  their  Fame. — No  Parallel  Case  among  Consecrated  Digni- 
taries, since  the  Reformation. — A  Case  of  Melancholy  Celebrity. — Extraordinary  even  to 
Romance. — Other  Similar  Instances. — Exalted  Character  of  the  Bishops. — Venerable  Age. — 
Splendid  Abilities. — Terrible  Effect  of  the  Scandal. — Confession  of  the  Bishop  of  Pennsyl- 
vania.— Interview  with  the  New  York  Bishop. — His  Alleged  Libertinism. — Solemn  Arraign- 
ment.— Some  of  the  Evidence  Given. — Charged  with  Gross  Improprieties. — Testimony  of 
Ladies. — His  Acts  while  Riding  to  Church. — The  House  of  Ill-Fame  Story. — Its  Emphatic 
Denial  by  the  Bishop. — Animus  of  the  Whole  Movement. — Pleas  of  the  Rival  Counsel. — 
Found  "  Guilty  by  His  Peers." — Sentence  of  Suspension  Imposed. — Efforts  to  Restore  Him. 
— His  Dying  Declaratious.^Affecting  Tributes  to  His  Memory,  by  all  Parties.     .     .     .    448 

LH. 

Discovery  of  the  Inhalation  of  Ether  as  a  Preventive  of  Pain. — 1846. 
Performance  of  Surgical  Operations  Involving  the  Intensest  Torture,  During  the  Happy  Un- 
consciousness of  the  Patient. — Account  of  the  First  Capital  Demonstration  before  a  Crowded 
and  Breathless  Assembly.— Its  Signal  Success.— Thrill  of  Enthusiastic  Joy.— IMost  Benefi- 
cent Boon  Ever  Conferred  by  Science  upon  the  Human  Race. — Instinctive  Dread  of  Pain. — 
Fruitless  Search  Hitherto  for  a  Preventive. — Terror  of  the  Probe  and  Knife. — Heroes  Quail 
before  Them.— Case  of  the  Bluff  Old  Admiral.— Discovery  of  the  Long-Sought  Secret.— Sul- 
phuric Ether  the  Prize. — Bliss  During  Amputation.— Honor  Due  to  America. — A  Whole 
World  Elated.— Medical  Men  Exultant.— Curious  Religious  Objections.— Test-Case  in  Sur- 
gery.—Startling  and  Romantic   Interest.— Value   in   Public    Hospitals.^War's    Sufferings 


32  CONTENTS. 

Ameliorated. — Various  Effects  While  Inhaling. — Amusing  and  Extraordinary  Cases. — 
"  Thocht  the  Deil  Had  a  Grip  o'  Her  !  "—Odd  Talk  of  an  Innocent  Damsel.— Old  Folks 
Wanting  to  Dance. — Awards  to  the  Discoverers 456 

LIIL 
Inventiox  of  that  Wondrous  Piece  of  Mechanism,  the  Sewing  Machine. — 1846. 
Romantic  Genius  and  Perseverance  Displayed  in  Its  Production. — Toils  of  the  Inventor  in  His 
Garret. — World-Wide  Introduction  of  the  Device. — Upwards  of  One  Thousand  Patents 
Taken  Out  in  the  United  States. — The  Industrial  Interests  of  the  Country  Affected  to  the 
Amount  of  t$500,000,000  Annually. — The  Humble  Inventor  Becomes  a  Millionaire. — The 
Main  Principle  Involved. — Comparison  With  Hand  Sewing. — How  it  was  Suggested. — Lis- 
tening to  Some  Advantage. — History  of  Mr.  Howe's  Efforts. — Ingenuity,  Struggles,  Triumphs. 
— Value  of  a  Friend  iu  Need. — A  Machine  at  Last. — Its  Parts,  Capabilities,  etc. — Reception 
by  the  Public. — Doubt  Succeeded  by  Admiration. — Great  Popularity  and  Demand. — Weari- 
some Litigation  With  Rivals. — Interesting  Question  of  Priority. — Decided  in  Howe's  Favor. 
— He  Rises  to  Affluence. — Improvements  by  Others. — Unique  and  Useful  Devices. — Number 
of  Machines  Produced. — Time  and  Labor  Saved. — Effect  Upon  Prices. — New  Avenues  of 
Labor  Opened 464 

LIV. 

Spiritual  Knockings  and  Table-Tippings. — 1847. 

Familiar  Intercourse  Claimed  to  be  Opened  between  Human  and  Disembodied  Beings. — Al- 
leged Revelations  from  the  Unseen  World. — Singular  and  Humble  Origin,  in  a  Secluded 
New  York  Village,  of  this  Great  Modern  Wonder. — Its  Development  Among  all  Nations  in 
all  Lands.: — Astonishing  and  Inexplicable  Character  of  the  Manifestations. — First  Rappings 
in  Hydesville,  New  York. — Time,  Manner,  Circumstances. — Murdered  Man's  Spirit. — How 
the  Mystery  Was  Solved. — Rappings,  the  Spirit  Language. — Its  Interpretation  Discovered. — 
Two  Yoi^ng  Gii'ls  the  "  Mediums." — Their  Harassed  Experience. — Public  Efforts  to  Sift  the 
Matter.-^No  Clue  to  any  Deception. — The  Family  go  to  Rochester. — Knockings  Accompany 
Them. — New  Forms  of  "  Manifestations." — Many  Mediums  Spring  Up. — Things  Strange 
and  Startling. — Universal  Wonder  Excited.— -Theories  of  Explanation. — Investigations  and 
Reports.— Views  of  Agassiz,  Herschel,  etc. — Press  and  Pulpit  Discussions. — Different  Opin- 
ions as  to  tjie  Tejidejicy  of  the  Phenoniena. — Thirty  Years'  History 472 

LV, 

Voyage  of  the  United  States  Ship  Jamestown  with  a  Cargo  of  Food  for  the 

Starving  in  Ireland. — 1847. 

Famine,  Pestilence,  Woe  and  Death  Sweep  Frightfully  Over  that  Land. — Appeal  to  the  Sympa- 
thy of  Nations. — The  Tale  of  Horror  Borne  Across  the  4-tlantic. — Spontaneous  Generosity 
of  America. — A  Sliip  of  War  Converted  into  a  Ship  of  Peace,  and  Laden  with  Free  Gifts  for 
the  Suffering. — Total  Failure  of  the  Potato  Crop. — A  Universal  Scourge.— Disease  Added  to 
Destitution. — Ghastly  Scenes  on  Every  Side.— ^Multitudes  Perish  in  the  Streets. — Parliament 
Grants  $50,000,000. — The  Message  of  Hun^anity.— ^Anjerica's  Ready  Bounties. — ^Use  of  the 
Jamestown  Granted. — Food  Substituted  for  Guns.— Interesting  Bill  of  Lading. — Departure 
from  Boston. — Enthusiastically  Cheered. — Only  Fifteen  Days'  Passage. — Going  up  the  Har- 
bor of  Cork. — Tlirougs  of  Famished  Spectators.— Tun^ultuous  Greetings  on  Arrival. — Public 
Welcomes  and  Honors. — A  Tour  of  Inspection. — Indescribable  HorrQrs.-^Distribntion  of  the 
Cargo. — The  Mission  a  Great  Success ,.,,,,,...     479 

LVI. 

Genkral  Scott  in  the  Halls  of  the  Montezumas,  as  the  Conqueror  qf  Mex- 
ico.—1847. 

General  Taylor's  Unbroken  Series  of  Victorious  Battles  from  Palo  Alto  to  Buena  Vistjv.-r- 
Flightof  Santa  Anna  in  the  Dead  of  Midnight. — The  Stars  and  Stripes  Float  Triumphantly 
from  the  Towers  of  the  National  Palace. — Fii'st  Foi'eign  Capital  Ever  Occupied  by  the 


CONTENTS.  33 

United  States  Army. — Peace  on  the  Invaders'  Own  Terms. — Original  Irritation  between  the 
Two  Powers. — Disputed  Points  of  Boundary. — Mexico  Refuses  to  Yield. — General  Taylor 
sent  to  the  Rio  Grande. — A  Speedy  Collision. — Declaration  of  War  by  Congress. — Santa 
Anna  Leads  the  Mexicans. — Battles  of  Palo  Alto  and  Resaca  de  la  Palma. — Raging  Fight 
at  Monterey;  Its  Fall. — Santa  Anna's  War-like  Summons. — It  is  Treated  with  Contempt. — 
His  Awful  Defeat  at  Buena  Vista. — Doniphan's  March  of  Five  Thousand  Miles. — Vera 
Cruz,  Cerro  Gordo,  Contreras,  Churubusco,  etc. — Scott's  Order,  "On  to  Mexico!  " — Huzzas 
and  a  Quick-Step. — Terrific  Storming  of  Chapultepec. — Scott  Holds  the  Key  to  Mexico. — 
The  Last  Obstacle  Overcome. — Grand  Entrance  of  the  Victors. — Territorial  Gain  to  the 
United  States 487 

LVII. 

Expedition  to  the  River  Jordan  and  the  Dead  Sea,  by  Lieut.  W.  F.  Lynch. — 1847. 

The  Sacred  River  Successfully  Circumnavigated  and  Surveyed. — Twenty  Days  and  Nights 
upon  the  "  Sea  of  Death." — It  is  Explored,  and  Sounded,  and  its  Mysteries  Solved. — Strange 
Phenomena  and  Unrelieved  Desolation  of  the  Locality. — Important  Results  to  Science. — 
Zeal  in  Geographical  Research. — Interest  in  the  Holy  Land. — American  Inquiry  Aroused. — 
Equipment  of  Lynch's  Expedition. — On  its  Way  to  the  Orient. — Anchoring  Under  Mount 
Carmel. — Passage  Down  the  Jordan. — It  is  Traced  to  its  Source. —  Wild  and  Impressive 
Scenery. — Rose-Colored  Clouds  of  Judea. — Configui'ation  of  the  Dead  Sea. — Dense,  Buoyant, 
Briny  Waters. — Smarting  of  the  Hands  and  Face. — Salt,  Ashes,  and  Sulphureous  Vapors, 
etc. — Tradition  Among  the  Arabs. — Sad  Fate  of  Former  Explorers. —  Temperature  of  this 
Sea. — Submerged  Plains  at  its  Bottom. — Sheeted  with  Phosphorescent  Foam. — Topography, 
Width  and  Depth.—"  Apples  of  Sodom  "  Described.— The  Pillar  of  Salt,  Lot's  Wife.    .     494 

LVIIL 

Discovery  of  Gold  at  Sutter's  Mill,  California. — 1848. 

Widely-Extended  and  Inexhaustible  Deposits  of  the  Precious  Metal. — The  News  Spreads  Like 
Wild-Fire  to  the  Four  Quarters  of  the  Globe. — Overwhelming  Tide  of  Emigration  from  all 
Countries. — Nucleus  of  a  Great  Empire  on  the  Pacific. — California  Becomes  the  El  Dorado 
of  the  World  and  the  Golden  Commonwealth  of  the  American  Union. — First  Practical  Dis- 
covery of  Gold. — On  John  A.  Sutter's  Land. — Found  by  J.  W.  Marshall. — Simple  Accident 
That  Led  to  It. — Marshall's  Wild  Excitement. — Shows  Sutter  the  Golden  Grains. — A  Dra- 
matic Interview. — The  Discovery  Kept  Secret. — How  it  was  Disclosed. — A  Real  Wonder  of 
the  Age. — Trials  of  the  Early  Emigrants. — Their  Bones  Whiten  the  Soil. — All  Professions 
at  the  Mines. — Impetus  Given  to  Commerce. — Life  Among  the  Diggers. — Disordered  State 
of  Society. — Crimes,  Outrages,  Conflagrations. — Scarcity  :  Fabulous  Prices. — Mining  by 
Machinery. — Order  and  Stability  Reached. — Population  in  1857,  600,000. — Gold  in  Ten 
Years,  $600,000,000 500 

LIX. 
AsTOR  Place  Opera-House  Riots,  New  York. — 1849. 
Terrible  Culmination  of  the  Feud  between  Macready,  the  English  Star  Actor,  and  Forrest,  the 
Great  American  Tragedian. — Macready  Commences  to  Perform,  but  is  Violently  Driven 
from  the  Stage. — A  Mob  of  20,000  Men  Surrounds  the  Theater,  and  Thunders  at  its  Doors. 
— Attempt  to  Fire  and  Destroy  the  House. — Charge  of  the  Military. — Lamentable  Loss  of 
Life. — Fame  of  these  Great  Actors. — Their  Former  Mutual  Friendship. — Macready's  Tour 
in  this  Countiy. — Forrest  Performs  in  Europe. — Professional  Jealousies  Aroused. — Open 
Rupture  at  Last. — Macready  Again  in  America. — Engages  to  Play  in  New  York. — Opposi- 
tion to  Him  There. — Appears  on  the  Stage,  May  Eighth. — Fierce  Tumult  in  the  House. — 
Groans,  Hisses,  Insults. — He  Stands  Undismayed. — Flight  of  the  Audience. — Re-appearance, 
May  Tenth. — The  House  Filled  to  the  Dome. — Riotous  Yells  and  Cries. — "  Down  with  the 
British  Hog !  " — Heroic  D3meanor  on  the  Stage. — Threats  of  the  Raging  Mob. — Its  Bloody 

Dispersion. — Macready  Leaves  the  Country.      . 508 

3 


34  CONTENTS. 

LX. 
Awful  Visitations  of  the  "Angel  of  Death." — 1849. 
Yellow  Fever  and  Cholera  Epidemics  at  Different  Periods.— Frightf id  Mortality  and  Panic  in 
1849. — Business  Abandoned,  Churches  Closed,  Streets  Barricaded,  Cities  Deserted. — Proc- 
lamation by  the  President  of  the  United  States. — The  Virtues,  Passions,  and  Vices  of  Hu- 
man Nature  Strikingly  Illustrated. — Tens  of  Thousands  Swept  at  Once  from  the  Face  of  the 
Earth. — Various  Eras  of  American  Epidemics. — Wide  and  Ghastly  Ravages. — Self-Preserva- 
tion  the  First  Law. — Social  Intercourse  Suspended. — Ties  of  Affection  Sundered. — Parents 
Forsake  Children. — Husbands  Flee  from  Wives. — Rich  Men  Buried  like  Paupers. — Money 
and  Rank  Unavailing. — Rumble  of  the  Dead-Carts. — Activity  in  the  Grave-yards. — They 
Look  as  if  Plowed  Up. — Women  in  Childbirth  Helpless. — Their  Screams  for  Succor. — Care 
of  a  Lunatic  Patient. — The  Tender  Passion  Still  Alive. — Courageous  Marriages. — Death  in 
the  Bridal  Chamber. — Anecdotes  of  the  Clergy. — Crime,  Filth,  and  Disease. — Quacks  and 
Nostrums  Rife. — The  Celebrated  "  Thieves'  Vinegar." 515 

LXL 

Murder  of  Dr.  George  Parkman,  a  Noted  Millionaire  of  Boston,  by  Prof.  John 

W.  Webster,  of  Harvard  College. — 1819. 

High  Social  Position  of  the  Parties. — Instantaneous  Outburst  of  Surprise,  Alarm,  and  Terror, 
in  the  Community,  on  the  Discovery  of  the  Deed. — Remarkable  Chain  of  Circumstances 
Leading  to  the  Murderer's  Detection. — Solemn  and  Exciting  Trial. — Account  of  the  Mortal 
Blow  and  Disposal  of  the  Remains. — Parkman's  Wealth  and  Fame. — Mysterious  Disappear- 
ance, November  Twenty-third. — Appointment  with  Professor  Webster  that  Day. — Their  Un- 
happy Pecuniary  Relations. — Search  for  the  Missing  Millionaire. — Webster's  Call  on  Pai'k- 
man's  Brother. — Explains  the  Interview  of  November  Twenty-third. — No  Trace  of  Parkman 
After  that  Date. — The  Medical  College  Explored. — Scene  in  Webster's  Rooms. — The  Tea- 
Chest,  Vault,  and  FurnaoB. — Human  Remains  Found  There. — Identified  as  Doctor  Park- 
man's. — Ai-rest  of  Webster  at  Night. — Attempt  at  Suicide  on  the  Spot. — Behavior  in  Court. 
— His  Atrocious  Guilt  Proved. — Rendering  the  Verdict. — He  Boldly  Addresses  the  Jury. 
— Asserts  his  Entire  Innocence. — Final  Confession  of  tlie  Crime. — Hung  Near  the  Spot 
of  his  Birth. — The  Similar  and  Tragical  Case  of  John  C.  Colt,  Murderer  of  Samuel 
Adams 523 

LXIL 

The  United  States  Grinnell  Expeditions  of  1850  and  1853,  to  the  Arctic 

Seas.— 1850.  ' 

Search  for  Sir  John  Franklin,  the  Lost  Navigator. — Traces  of  His  Melancholy  and  JMysterious 
Fate. — Dr.  Kane's  Discovery  of  an  Open  Polar  Sea,  Three  Thousand  Square  Miles  in  Area. — 
The  "  Great  Glacier,"  a  Lofty  and  Dazzling  Ice-Wall  of  Boundless  Dimensions. — The  "  Stars 
and  Stripes"  Carried  Farther  North  than  Any  Other  Flag. — Origin  of  this  Undertaking. — 
Franklin's  Bold  Enterprise. — No  Tidings  of  Him  for  Years. — Vessels  Sent  in  Search. — Lady 
Franklin's  Warm  Appeal. — Mr.  Grinnell's  Noble  Response. — Fits  Out  DeHaven's  Expedi- 
tion.— Sailing  of  the  Advance  and  Rescue. — Franklin's  Winter  Quarters  Found. — Dellaven 
Imbedded  in  Ice. — Eighty  Days  Polar  Darkness. — Fruitless  Efforts  ;  Return  Home. — Renewed 
Search  by  Dr.  Kane. — At  tlie  Extreme  Solitary  North. — Its  Terror  and  Sublimity. — Mer- 
cury and  Whiskey  Freeze  Solid. — No  Sunliglit  for  Five  Months. — A  Vast  Crystal  Bridge. — 
It  Connects  Two  Continents. — Kane  Ice-Bound  ;  Awful  Perils. — One  Thousand  Three  Hun- 
dred Miles  Traveled  in  Sledges. — Final  Escape ;  Arrival  Home. — Dr.  Hayes's  Heroic  Ad- 
ventures  533 

LXTIL 
Brilliant  Musical  Tour  of  Jenny  Lind,  the  "  Swedish  Nightingale." — 18.50. 
This  Queen  of  Song  Comes  under  the   Auspices  of  Mr.  Barnum. — Twenty  Thousand  Persons 
Welcome  Her  Arrival. — Transcendent  Beauty  and  Power  of  Her  Voice. — A  Whole  Continent 
Enraptured  with  Her  Enchanting  Melodies. — Pleasant  Exhilaration  of  Feeling  Throughout 


CONTENTS.  35 

the  Land  by  the  Presence  of  the  Fair  Niglitingale.— Honors  from  Webster,  Clay,  and  Oilier 
Dignitaries.— Her  Traises  Fill  the  Wide  World.— The  Vocal  Prodigy  of  the  Age.— An  Opera, 
the  '•  Daughter  of  the  Regiment." — Harnum's  Happy  Conception. — Proposes  to  Her  this 
American  Tour.— His  Generous  Terjns  Accepted.— She  Reaches  New  York.— Sunny  and  Joy- 
ous Outburst. — A  Real  "  Jenny-Lind  "  Era. — First  Concert  at  Castle  Garden. — 1'empest  of 
Acclamation. — Encores,  Showers  of  Bouquets.— Public  Expectation  Exceeded. — Jenny's  Com- 
plete Triumph.- All  the  Receipts  Given  to  Charity.— Equal  Enthusiasm  Everywhere.— Beau- 
tiful Incidents.— She  is  a  Guest  at  the  White  House.— Henry  Clay  at  Her  Concert.— Welv 
ster  and  the  Nightingale. — A  Scene  "  Not  Down  on  the  Bills." — Ninety-five  Concerts  Yield 
§700,000 541 

LXIV. 
Reign  of  the  Vigilance  Committee  in  California. — 1851. 
Revolution  in  the  Administration  of  Justice. — Powerlessness  and  Indifference  of  the  Regular 
Authorities. — Robbery,  Arson,  and  Murder,  Alarmingly  Prevalent.— The  Committee's  Secret 
Chamber  of  Judgment.— Sudden  Seizure  and  Trial  of  Noted  Criminals.— Solemn  Tolling  of 
the  Signal  Bell. — Swift  and  Terrible  Executions.— Renovation  of  Society.— Swarming  of 
Desperate  Felons. — England's  Penal  Colonies  Emptied.— Organized  Society  of  "  Hounds." — 
A  Band  of  Cut-throats.— Society  at  Their  Mercy.— Harvests  Reaped  by  Them.— Corrupt 
Courts  and  Officers.— The  Vigilance  Committee  Formed.— Prompt,  Resolute,  Powerful.— The 
Criminals  Taken  Unawares.— Instant  Summons  to  Death.— A  Gallows  at  Midnight.— Ex- 
traordinary Horrors. — Confessions  by  the  Victims. — Astounding  Revelations. — Magistrates 
Implicated. — Warnings  by  the  Committee.— A  Double  Execution.— Thousands  of  Spectators. 
— Wild  Shouts  of  Approval. — The  Lawless  Classes  Terrified.— The  Results  of  the  Move- 
ment  550 

LXV. 

Victorious  Race  of  the  Yacht   "America,"  in  the  Great  International 

Regatta. — 1851. 

rsne  Distances,  by  Nearly  Eight  ISfiles,  the  Whole  Fleet  of  Swift  and  Splendid  Competitors, 
and  Wins  "the  Cup  of  all  Nations."— Grandest  and  Most  Exciting  Spectacle  of  the  Kind 
Ever  Known. — Queen  Victoria  Witnesses  the  Match. — Universal  Astonishment  at  the  Result. 
— Admiration  Excited  by  the  "  America's  "  Beautiful  Model  and  Ingenious  Rig. — Scenes  at 
the  "  World's  Exhibition  "  at  London.— Grand  Finale  Yet  to  Come  Off.— Championship  of 
the  Sea.— England  Sensitive  on  this  Point.— Her  Motto,  "Rule  Britannia  !  "—George  Steers 
Builds  the  America.— Commodore  Stevens  Takes  Her  to  England.— His  Challenge  to  all 
Countries.~An  International  Prize  Race.— Eighteen  Yachts  Entered.— The  Scene  on  Wave 
and  Shore.— All  Sails  Set :  The  Signal.— Every  Eye  on  "  the  Yankee."— Her  Leisurely  Move- 
ments.—Allows  Herself  to  be  Distanced.— Her  Quality  Soon  Shown.— No  "Bellying"  of 
Canvas.— Amazing  Increase  of  Speed.— All  Rivals  Passed,  One  by  One.— -They  Return  in 
Despair.— Great  Odds  for  the  America. — Is  Visited  by  Queen  Victoria 558 

LXVL 

Frightful  Catastrophe  in  a  New  York  Five-Story  Public  School-House  Contain- 
ing Eighteen  Hundred  Pupils. — 1851. 

Panic  Caused  by  a  Call  for  "  Water."— Furious  Rush  of  the  Little  Ones  Throughout  the  Vast 
Building,  to  Escape  the  Supposed  Fire.— The  Stair  Railing  Breaks,  and  They  are  Precipitated 
to  the  Bottom,  in  Helpless  Agony.— Nearly  Fifty  Children,  in  Their  Beauty  and  Innocence 
Suffocated  to  Death.— Hundreds  of  Families  in  Mourning.— Slight  Source  of  all  this  Horror. 
—Sudden  Illness  of  a  Teacher.— Cries  of  "  Help  !  "  for  Her.— Heard  in  the  Other  Rooms.— 
Fatal  Misapprehension.— Instant  and  Awful  Fright.— Vain  Attempts  to  Escape.— They  all 
Pour  Forth  at  Once.— The  Street-Door  Locked !— Bewildered  Crowds.— Their  Headlong 
Descent.— A  Pile  of  Bodies  Fourteen  Feet  Square.— Their  Sighs  and  Writhings.— Arrival  of 
the  Firemen.— Entiance  Effected  by  Them.— Thousands  Waiting  Outside.— Indescribable 
Excitement.— Anguish  of  Parents.— Rescuing  the  Sufferers.— Scenes  Among  the  Little  Ones. 
— Sweet  and  Tender  Devotion. — Burial  of  the  Innocents 567 


36  CONTENTS. 

LXVII. 

Appearaxce  op  the  Marine  Moxster  Known  as  the  Sea-Serpent,  along  the  At- 
lantic   Coast. — 1851. 

Statements  of  Numerous  Eye-AVitnesses,  as  to  Its  Form,  Size,  Coloi',  and  Movements. — Esti- 
mated Lengtli,  One  Hundred  Feet. — Its  Body  Cylindrical  in  Shape,  and  of  the  Diameter  of 
a  Large  Cask. — Effect  of  Shot  upon  the  Animal. — Astonishing  Rapidity  of  Its  Course. — 
Observers  Struck  with  Wonder  and  Awe  at  Such  a  Sight. — The  Monarch  of  the  Deep. — 
Opinions  of  Scientific  Men. — Existence  of  the  Animal  Proved. — Evidence  on  this  Point. 
— Reliability  of  the  Witnesses. — Their  Various  Descriptions. — Concurrence  of  Testimony. — 
No  Similar  Sea  Animal. —  Seen  in  Diffei-ent  Localities. — Observed  from  Sea  and  Shore. — 
Frequents  New  England. — Nearer  Views  Obtained  of  Him. — Clear  Weather,  Smooth  Seas. 
— Drawings  Made  on  the  Spot. — His  Gigantic  Dimensions. — Linnsean  Society's  Report. — 
Supposed  to  be  the  "  Leviathan." — His  Steady  and  Onward  Pace. — A  Mile  in  Three  IMin- 
utes. — Attitude  of  the  Body. — Elevation  of  the  Head. — Dark  Brown  the  Chief  Color.  .     575 

LXVIIL 

Reception  of  Governor  Kossuth,  the   Great   Hungarian  Exile,  as   the   Invited 

Guest  of  the  Nation. — 1851, 

Splendid  Military  Pageant  in  New  York,  on  His  Arrival. — Welcomed  and  Banqueted  by  Presi- 
dent Fillmore. — Received  with  Distinguished  Official  Honors  on  the  Floor  of  Congress. — 
He  Eloquently  Pleads  His  Country's  Cause  in  All  Parts  of  the  Land. — Processions,  Congratu- 
latory Addresses,  Acclamations,  Etc. — A  True-Hearted  Patriot. — What  Hungary  Fought 
For. —  Austrian  Despotism  Resisted. — Independence  Demanded.  —  Kossuth  the  Leading 
Champion. — Armies  in  the  Field. — Successes  and  Reverses. — Russia's  Sword  for  Austria. — 
Kossuth's  Flight  to  Turkey. — Long  an  Exile  There. — America  Interposes  for  Him. — Offers 
a  Conveyance  to  the  United  States. — The  Nation's  Courtesy  Accepted. — Fi'igate  Mississippi 
Sent. — Kossuth  and  Suite  on  Board. — His  Landing  at  New  York. — Magnificent  Preparations 
for  Him. — Invited  to  Washington. — Speech  before  Congress. — An  Unprecedented  Distinc- 
tion.— His  Untiring  Labors. —  Greatest  Orator  of  the  Day 583 

LXIX. 

Naval  Expedition  to  Japan,  under  Commodore  M.  C.  Perry. — 1852. 
Negotiations  to  be  Opened  for  Unsealing  the  Ports  of  that  Empire  to  America. — Letter  of 
Friendship  from  the  President  of  the  United  States  to  the  Emperor. — Distinguished  Favor 
Shown  the  Representatives  of  the  Great  Republic. — Ceremonies,  Entertainments,  and  Diplo- 
matic Conferences. — Treaty  of  Peace,  Amity,  and  Commercial  Intercourse  Concluded. — 
Former  Japanese  Isolation  Policy. — Exclusive  Privileges  to  the  Dutch. — Effects  of  this  Re- 
striction.—  European  Efforts  to  Change  It. —  Mission  of  Commodore  Biddle.  — Seeks  the 
Release  of  United  States  Sailors. — Ordered  to  Depart  Forthwith. — Firm  Conduct  of  Captain 
Glynn. — Contempt  for  Japanese  Etiquette. — Champagne  as  a  ]\Iediator. — Commodore  Peri-y's 
Fine  Fleet. — The  Letter  in  a  Golden  Box. — Its  Presentation  to  the  Emperor. — Commissioners 
]\Ieet  Commodore  Perry. — Their  Attire,  Manners,  Etc. — The  Conference  in  Session. — Friend- 
liness of  the  Japanese. — Civilities  and  Festivals. — Reception  on  the  Flag-Ship. — Substance 
of  the  Treaty. — A  Talk  with  the  Emperor. — JNIore  Privileges  Extended 592 

LXX. 

Exhibition  of  the  Industry  of  All  Nations,  in  New  York. — 1853. 
Construction  of  the  Crystal  Palace,  a  Colossal  Building  of  Glass  and  Iron. — Four  Acres  of 
Surface  Covered  with  the  Treasures  of  Art,  Science  and  Mechanism,  from  Every  Land. — 
Inauguration  of  the  Enterprise  by  President  Pierce. — Five  Thousand  Co  iributors. — Splen- 
dor of  the  Palace  of  Industry  by  Day  ;  Its  Gorgeous  Illumination  at  Night. — Eclat  of  the 
Great  London  Fair. — EnuUation  Stinnilated  Abroad. — An  American  Exhibition  Proposed. — 
Popularity  of  the  Idea. — Plan  for  a  Building  Accepted. — Its  Style,  Size,  and  Decorations. — 
Admirable  Adaptation  of  the  Structure. — Superiority  to  the  London  Palace. — Rapid  Prog- 
ress of  the  Enterprise. — Interest  of   Foreign  Countries  Enlisted. — Programme  of  Manage- 


CONTENTS.  37 

meat. — Brilliant  Ceremony  at  the  Opening. — Celebrities  Present :  Speeches  Made. — Grand 
Ilallolujali  Chorus  Sung. — Constant  Tide  of  Visitors.— Beauty,  Utility,  Amusement. — At- 
tractions from  Abroatl. — Contributions  by  Monarchs. — Victoria's  Beautiful  Offering. — The 
Grand  Industries  of  Civilization. — Lesson  Taught  by  Such  a  Display. — Luster  Reflected  on 
America 600 

LXXL 

Loss  OF  THE  Splendid  Collins  Steamship  Arctic,  of  New  York,  by  Collision  with 

THE  Iron  Ste.\mer  Vesta. — 1854. 

OccmTence  of  the  Disaster  in  Mid-Ocean,  at  Noonday,  in  a  Dense  Fog. — Sinking  of  the  Noble 
Ship  Stern  Foremost.  —  Hundreds  of  Souls  Engulfed  in  a  Watery  Grave. — Experiences 
Crowded  Into  that  Awful  Hour. — The  Wail  of  Agony  and  Despair  from  the  Fated  Throng. 
— Her  Non- Arrival ;  Painful  Suspense. — The  Dreadful  News  at  Last. —  Shock  to  the  Public 
Mind. — Strong  Build  of  the  Arctic. — Prestige  of  the  Collins  Line. — A  Casualty  Undreamed 
Of. — Surging  Crowd  in  Wall  Street. — Names  of  Lost  and  Saved  Read. — Hope,  Joy,  Grief, 
Anguish. — The  Sad  Tale  on  all  Lips. — Captain  Luce  in  the  Hour  of  Woe. — Manliness  of 
His  First  Order. — Ship  Deserted  by  the  Crew. — "  Every  Man  for  Himself." — A  Raft  Con- 
structed, but  in  Vain. — Courage  of  the  Women. — Not  One  of  their  Sex  Saved. — Instances 
of  Cool  Bravery. — An  Engineer's  Heroic  Fidelity. — £30,000  for  a  Chance  in  a  Boat. — Pleas- 
ure Tourists  on  Board. — All  of  Mr.  CoUins's  Family  Lost 608 

LXXII. 

Assault  on  the  Hon.  Charles  Sumner,  by  Hon.  Preston  S.  Brooks. — 1856. 
Twer.ty  Sudden  and  Terrible  Blows,  with  a  Solid  Gutta  Percha  Cane,  Dealt  upon  Mr.  Sum- 
ner's Bare  Head. — He  Staggers  and  Falls,  Senseless,  Gashed,  and  Bleeding. — Sumner's  Great 
Kansas  Speech  for  Free  Soil  and  Free  Labor. — Speech  by  Senator  Butler,  of  South  Carolina. 
— Mr.  Sumner's  Scorching  Reply. — South  Carolinians  Offended. — An  Assault  Determined 
On. — "Mr.  Brooks  Their  Champion. — Two  Days'  Watch  for  His  Victim. — Finds  Him  Alone  at 
His  Desk. — Approaches  Unobserved. — A  Quick  and  Deadly  Blow. — Mr.  Sumner  is  Instantly 
Stunned. — His  Ineffectual  Defense. — Brooks's  Accomplices  at  Hand. — Their  Advantage  over 
Sumner. —  Storm  of  Public  Indignation. — Action  Taken  by  Congress. — Reign  of  Terror  at 
the  Capital. — Mr.  Sumner's  Three  Years'  Illness. — Recovery. — Illustrious  Career. — Death  of 
Brooks  and  His  Allies. — Time's  Retributions 616 

LXXIIL 

Horrible  and  Mysterious  Murder  of  Dr,  Burdell,  a  Wealthy  New  York  Den- 
tist, IN  His  Own  Office. — 1857. 

Fifteen  Ghastly  Stabs  Upon  His  Body. — Arrest  and  Trial  of  Mrs.  Cunningham,  His  Land- 
lady and  Mistress,  for  the  Crime. — Her  Claim  to  be  His  Widow  and  Heiress. — She  Secretly 
Borrows  an  Infant,  to  which  She  Pretends  to  Give  Birth  as  Doctor  Burdell's  Child. — Dis- 
graceful Revelations  of  Intrigue  and  Infamy  in  Fashionable  Life. — Shocking  Butchery  of 
the  Doctor. — Found  Dead  by  His  Office-Boy. — Bloody  Appearance  of  the  Room. — Mrs.  Cun- 
ningham's Character. — Unscrupulous  and  Strong-Minded. — Her  Repeated  Threats. — Jeal- 
ousies, Hostilities,  Schemings. — Doctor  Burdell  in  Fear  for  His  Life. — Speaks  of  Her  with 
Terror. — The  IMurder  Announced  to  Mrs.  Cunningham. — She  Embraces  and  Kisses  the 
Corpse.— Dark  Case  for  Her  in  Court. — Insufficient  Proof;  Acquitted.— New  Chapter  in  the 
Drama. — Her  Assumed  Pregnancy. — Offers  One  Thousand  Dollars  for  an  Infant.— How  It 
was  Obtained. — Her  Mock  Confinement. — Joy  over  "  Her  Dear  Baby." — Exposure  of  tlie 
Daring  Plot. — Greatest  of  New  York  Murders. — Robinson  and  Jewett  Case 026 


*o 


LXXIV. 

Foundering  of  the  Steamer  Central  America,  in  a  Gale,  off  Cape  Hatteras. — 1857. 

More  than  Four  Hundred  Lives  Lost,  and  Two  Million  Dollars  in  Treasure. — Fury  and  Terror 
of  the  Tempest.— The  Staunch  and  Noble  Ve.ssel  Springs  a  Leak.— Successive  Great  and 
Terrible  Waves  Break  Over  and  Drag  Her  Under,  in  the  Night.— The  Tab  of  Peril,  Suffer- 


38  CONTENTS. 

ing,  Despair,  Parting,  and  Death. — Unparalleled  Natura  of  this  Disaster.— Hundreds  of 
Homes  Desolated. — Gloom  of  the  Public  Mind. — The  Financial  Panic  Aggravated. — Rise  of 
the  Fatal  Gale. — Hard  Labor  of  the  Steamer. — A  Leak  Caused  by  the  Strain. — Incessant 
Working  at  the  Pumps. — Four  Anxious  Days. — Approach  of  the  Brig  Marine. — Women  and 
Children  Rescued — Perils  of  the  Life-Boat. — Terrible  Height  of  the  Sea. — Harrowing  Ex- 
periences.— The  Two  Little  Babes. — Gradual  Filling  of  the  Ship. — Three  Plunges,  and  She 
Sinks. — Captain  Herndon  on  the  Wheel-House. — His  Sad  but  Heroic  End. — A  Night  on  the 
Waves. — Dead  and  Liviug  Float  Together. — Narratives  of  the  Survivors 635 


LXXV. 

Teurible  Crisis  in  the  Business  and  Financial  World. — 1857. 
Known  as  "the  Great  Panic." — A  Sudden,  Universal  Crash,  in  the  Height  of  Prosperity. — 
Caused  by  Wild  Speculations  and  Enormous  Debt. — Suspension  of  Banks  all  Over  the  Coun- 
try.— Failure  of  the  Oldest  and  Wealthiest  Houses. — Fortunes  Swept  Away  in  a  Day. — Pros- 
tration of  Every  Branch  of  Industry. — Prolonged  Embarrassment,  Distrust,  and  Suffering. — 
The  Panic  of  1837  in  Comparison. — Extravagance  and  High  Prices. — Chimerical  Railroad 
Schemes. — Mania  for  Land  Investments. — Reckless  Stock  Gambling. — Western  Paper  Cities. 
— Fabulous  Prices  for  "  Lots." — Money  Absorbed  in  this  Way. — Bursting  of  the  Bubble. — 
The  First  Great  Blow. — A  Bomb  in  Money  Circles. — Wide-Spread  Shock  and  Terror. 
— Fierce  Crowds  at  the  Banks. — A  Run  Upon  Them  for  Specie. — They  "  Go  to  the  Wall." — 
Savings  Bank  Excitement.— Rare  Doings  at  the  Counters. — Wit,  Mirth,  Despair,  and  Ruin. 
— Forty  Thousand  Persons  in  Wall  Street. — Factories,  Foundries,  etc.,  Stopped. — Business 
Credit  Destroyed.— Root  of  the  Whole  Difficulty 044 

LXXVL 

The  "  Great  Awakening  "  in  the  Religious  World,  and  the  Popular  Movement 
(in  1875-6)  UNDER  Messrs.  Moody  and  Sankey. — 1857. 

Like  a  Mighty  Rushing  Wind,  it  Sweeps  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific. — Crowded  Prayer- 
Meetings  Held  Daily  in  Every  City  and  Town,  from  the  Granite  Hills  of  the  North  to  the 
Rolling  Prairies  of  the  West  and  the  Golden  Slopes  of  California. — Large  Accessions,  fiom 
all  Classes,  to  the  Churches  of  J>ery  Name  and  Denomination. — The  "American  Pentecost." 
— Early  American  Revivals. — Dr.  Franklin  and  Mr.  Whitefield. — The  Revival  of  1857  Spon- 
taneous.— No  Leaders  or  Organizers. — Its  Immediate  Cause. — Universal  Ruin  of  Commerce. 
— Anxiety  for  Higher  Interests. — All  Days  of  the  Week  Alike. — Business  Men  in  the  Work. 
— Telegraphing  Religious  Tidings. — New  York  a  Center  of  Infiuence. — Fulton  Street  Prayer- 
Meeting. — Scenes  in  Burton's  Theater. — New  Themes  and  Actors. — Countless  Requests  for 
Players. — A  Wonderful  Book. — Striking  Moral  Results. — Men  of  Violence  Reformed. — 
Crime  and  Suicide  Prevented. — Infidels,  Gamblers,  Pugilists. — Jessie  Fremont's  Gold  Ring. 
— "Awful "  Gardner's  Case v,.     •     .     653 


LXXVIT. 

Unrivaled  Performances  bV  Paul  Morpiiy,  the  American  Chess  Champion. — 1858. 

His  Extreme  Youth,  Marvelous  Gifts  and  Genius,  and  Astonishing  Trumphs. — The  Most 
Renowned  Players  in  America  and  Europe  Vanquished  by  Him. — His  Wonderful  Victories 
in  Blindfold  Games  with  the  Veteran  Masters  of  Chess. — Morphy's  Bust  Crowned  with 
Laurel  in  Paris. — Honors  and  Testimonials  at  Home. — Morphy's  Personal  History. — Early 
Aptness  for  Chess. — Skill  When  Twelve  Years  Old. — Introduction  to  the  Public. — At  the 
National  Chess  Congress. — Great  Champions  There. — Morphy  Takes  the  First  Prize. — Wins 
Eighty-One  out  of  Eighty-Four  Games. — Professional  Visit  Abroad. — Challenges  the  Ches.s 
Celebrities. — His  Hoyish  Appearance. — M<)d(!sty  and  Great  Memory. — Aspect  When  at  Play. 
— His  Biilliant  Combinations. — Feats  PiMfoimed  in  Paris. — Long  and  Profound  Games. — 
Great  Match  Against  Eight. — Unparalleled  Spectacle. — Victor  Over  Every  Rival. — Without 
o  l^eer  in  the  World.— Banquets  to  Hiin  in  Europe. — America  Proud  of  Her  Son.      .     .     666 


CONTENTS.  39 

LXXVITT. 

Burning  of  the  Steamship  Austria,  on  IIkr  Way  from  Hamburg  to  New 

York.— 1858. 

She  Takes  Fire  on  the  Eleventh  Day,  from  Combustion  of  the  Hot  Tar  Used  in  Fumigation. — 
Three  Decks  Instantly  in  a  Blaze. — Inability  to  Stop  the  Engines. — The  Ship  Continues  on  Her 
Course  in  Furious  Flames. — Torture  and  Death  in  Every  Form. — Nearly  Five  Hundred  Men, 
Women,  and  Cliildren  Lost. — A  Hot  Chain  in  the  Bucket  of  Tar. — Sudden  and  Singular  Ig- 
nition.— Rapid  Headway  of  the  Flames. — They  Leap  up  the  Shrouds. — Powerlessness  of  the 
Officers. — The  Captain  Panic-Stricken. — Frantic  Conduct  of  Passengers. — Swamping  of  the 
Boats. — Children  Trodden  Under  Foot. — Writhing  in  the  Heat. — Shrieks  and  Cries. — Being 
Roasted  Alive. — Only  One  Boat  Afloat. — Jumping  into  the  Waves. — Last  Embrace  of  Lovers. 
— Adieus  of  Hu.sbands  and  Wives. — Seven  Brothers  and  Sisters. — Struggles  of  tlie  Firemen. 
— A  Living  Wall  of  Fire. — Fate  of  the  Women. — Father  and  Son. — "  A  Sail !  " — Rescue  of  a 
Few 673 

LXXIX. 

Bloody  and    Revolting   Prize-Fight    between   John  Morrissey   and   John   C. 

Heenan.— 1858, 

Stakes,  Two  Thousand  Five  Hundred  Dollars  a  Side. — Wonderful  Muscular  Appearance  of  the 
Combatants. — Eleven  Terrific  Rounds  in  Twenty-Two  Minutes. — Morrissey  Declared  Victor, 
and  Hailed. as  the  "Champion  of  America." — Gala  Day  for  Ruffians  and  Blacklegs. — A  Dis- 
grace to  Civilization. — Growth  of  American  Pugilism. — Result  of  Emigration. — Branded  as 
Felony  in  the  United  States.— Remarkable  Career  of  Morrissey — Convictions  for  Various 
Crimes. — Serves  in  the  Penitentiary. — Fights  with  Yankee  Sullivan. — MoiTissey  Wins. — 
His  Great  Match  with  Heenan. — Public  Attention  Engrossed  by  It. — Spot  Chosen  for  the 
"  Sport." — Laws  and  Magistrates  Shunned. — The  Contestants  Shake  Hands. — Their  Tre- 
mendous Prowess. — Blood,  Brutality,  and  JNIutilation. — Heenan  Staggers  in  the  Eleventh 
Round. — Fails  at  the  Call  of  "  Time." — The  S[X)nge  of  Defeat  Thrown  Up. — Morrissey  at  the 
**  Post  of  Honor." — He  Sets  up  a  Drinking  Saloon. — Enters  Political  Life. — Elected  to  Con- 
gress.— Truth  Stranger  Than  Fiction 681 

LXXX. 

Homicide  of  Hon.  P.  B.  Key,  by  Hon.  Daniel  E.  Sickles,  Member  of  Congress,  in 

Washington,  D.  C— 1859. 

Seduction  of  Mrs.  Sickles  by  Mr.  Key. — Their  Flagrant  Criminal  Intimacy. — Y''outh,  Beauty, 
and  Distinguished  Social  Position  of  Mrs.  Sickles. — Full  Confession  of  the  Manner,  Times, 
and  Place  of  Her  Guilt. — Mr.  Sickles  Tried  for  Murder  and  Triumphantly  Acquitted. — Mrs. 
Sickles's  Fashionable  Career. — Admiration  of  Her  Charms. — Key's  Amours  in  Female  Soci- 
ety.— His  Marked  Attentions  to  Mrs.  Sickles. — An  Anonymous  Letfeer  to  Mr.  Sickles. — His 
Wife's  Infidelity  Disclosed. — Plans  to  Discover  the  Truth. — Sad  Revelations  Made. — Regular 
Assignations  for  Months. — House  Rented  for  this  Purpose. — A  Husband's  Agony. — Detects 
Key  Signaling  to  Mrs.  Sickles  — Rush'^s  from  the  House  in  a  Frenzy. — Encounters  Key  on 
the  Street. — Angry  Salutations  ;  A  Grapple. — Key  Shot  Dead  :  Last  Words. — The  Seducer 
in  His  Coffin. — House  of  Infamy  Described. — Sickles  Indicted  and  in  Court. — Public  Rejoic- 
ings at  the  Verdict. — Mrs.  Sickles's  Brief  Future. — Fair,  Ruined,  Forgiven,  Dead.    .     .     689 

LXXXL 

Petroleum  Excitement  in  Pennsylvania. — 1859. 
Discoveries  of  Prodigious  Quantities  of  Illuminating  Oil  in  the  Depths  of  the  Earth. — Boring 
of  Innumerable  Wells. — Fabulous  Prices  Paid  For  Lands. — Poor  Farmers  Become  Million- 
aires.— The  Supply  of  Oil  Exceeds  the  Wants  of  the  Whole  Country. — Immense  Exporta- 
tions  of  the  Article.— Vast  Source  of  National  Wealth  and  Industry.— Revolution  in  Artifi- 
cial Light.— Ancient  Knowledge  of  this  Oil.— Floating  on  Ponds  and  Creeks.— Its  Collection 
and  Use. — Native  Sources:  Origin. — Locality  of  the  Springs. — Great  Value  of  the  Oil.-^ 
First  Attempt  at  Boring.— Plans  For  Sinking  Wells.— Their  Exhaustless  Y^ield.— Intense 


40  CONTENTS. 

Excitement  Prevails. — Eager  Crowds  at  the  Oil  Region. — Buying  and  Leasing  Lands. — En- 
terprise of  the  Pioneers. — Sudden  Fortunes  Made. — Other  Side  of  the  Picture. — Towns  and 
Cities  Built. — Fire  :  Awful  Scenes  and  Losses.-  Bringing  the  Oil  into  Market. — Its  Cheap- 
ness and  Excellence. — Universal  Introduction. — Valuable  for  Various  Purposes.  .     .     .     698 

LXXXIL 
Fatal  Duel  betwef:n  Hon.  D.  C.  Broderick,  and  Hon.  D.  S.  Terry. — 18.59. 
Scene  of  the  Meeting  near  San  Francisco. — Details  of  the  Barbarous  Encounter. — Broderick 
Falls  Mortally  Wounded,  by  His  Adversary. — He  Expires  in  Two  Days. — Flight  of  Terry. — 
Society  Shocked  at  the  Event. — Parallel  Case  of  Messrs.  Graves  and  Cilley. — Politics  and 
Dueling  in  America. — Broderick's  Alleged  Offense. — Terry's  Challenge  Accepted. — Terms  of 
the  Duel. — Choice  of  Seconds  and  Arms. — Aspect  of  the  Two  Men. — Serious  Bearing  of 
Broderick. — Tei'ry's  Fearlessness. — Marking  the  Distance. — Its  Murderous  Shortness. — The 
Duelists  Placed. — Their  Persons  Examined.  —  "  Gentlemen,  are  you  Ready  ?  "  —  The 
Word  Given. — Both  Parties  Fire. — Bi-oderick  Shot  in  the  Breast. — Last  Sufferings  and  End. 
— Sorrow  of  the  Comnnmity. — His  Body  Lies  in  State. — A  Similar  Deed  of  Horror. — Con- 
gressional Tragedy  in  1838. — Its  Deadly  Character 707 

LXXXIIL 

John  Brown's  Capture  of  Harper's  Ferry,  Va. — 1859. 
Seizure  and  Occupation  of  the  United  States  Armory. — A  Bold  Scheme  to  Free  the  Slaves. — 
Attacked  by  the  Militia,  He  Retreats  to  the  Engine  House  and  Makes  it  His  Fortress. — 
The  Building  is  Surrounded  by  Federal  Troops  and  Forced  by  a  Battering  Ram. — Brown, 
Refusing  to  Surrender,  is  Overpowered  and  Made  Prisoner. — His  Genuine  Heroism  on  the 
Scaffold. — A  Long  Cherished  Plan. — Conference  Held  in  Canada. — Programme  of  Opera- 
tions.— Harper's  Ferry  the  Strategic  Point. — First  Active  Movement  at  Night. — Only 
Twenty-two  Men  in  Force. — The  Town  in  Brown's  Possession. — Strange  Scenes  at  Day- 
break.— Indescribable  Consternation. — Fighting  and  Bloodshed. — News  of  the  Attack  Sent 
Off. — Military  Companies  Pour  in. — Marines  Sent  from  Washington. — No  Mercy  Shown  the 
Insurgents. — Brown  is  Terribly  Wounded. — His  Indomitable  Fortitude. — Tried  for  Treason 
and  Murder. — Conviction:  Speech  in  Court. — Admiration  of  Him  by  His  Foes. — Walks 
Fearless  to  the  Gallows. — Mounts  the  Fatal  Platform. — "  I  am  Ready  at  any  Time  !  "  .    715 

LXXXIV. 

Fall  of  the  Great  Pemberton  Mills  in  Lawrence,  Mass. — 1860. 

Nearly  One  Thousand  Persons  Buried  in  the  Ruins. — Multitudes,  ]\Iale  and  Female,  in  Youth 
and  Beauty,  Brought  in  a  Moment  to  Agony  and  Death. — Bursting  I  orth  of  a  Sweeping 
Conflagration. — Commingling  of  Horrible  Sights  and  Sounds. — Hair-Breadth  Escapes. — 
Three  Fair  and  Beautiful  Corpses  Tight  Together. — The  C'alamity  Instantaneous. — Sensa- 
tions of  the  Occupants. — Two  Acres  of  Ruins. — Flames  Suddenly  Belch  Forth. — Thrilling 
Cries  :  Woeful  Scenes. — Efforts  to  Rescue  tho  Wounded. — Many  Left  to  Their  Fate. — Thou- 
sands of  Excited  Visitors. — Sympathy  and  Relief. — A  Room  Stored  with  the  Dead. — W^on- 
derful  Escape  of  a  Young  Woman. — Astonisliing  Presence  of  IMind.— l-'emale  IleroiMn  and 
Devotion. — Tender  Girls  Struggling  in  the  Ruins.^Despair  and  Suicide. — Ladies  Work  the 
Fire  Engines. — Harrowing  and  Piteous  Appeals. — Cool  Pluck  of  an  Irishman.— Reading  the 
List  of  Victims. — Touching  Request  of  a  Dying  Girl. — Endurance  and  Resignation. — Ac- 
count of  the  Avondale  Colliery  Disaster 723 

LXXXV. 

Grand  Embassy  From  the  Empire  of  Japan,  with  a  Treaty  of  Peace  and  Com- 
merce, TO  THE  United  States  Government. — 1860. 

First  Ambassadors  Ever  Sent  from  that  Ancient  Country  to  a  Foreign  Land, — Their  Official 
Reception  by  President  lUichanan,  and  Tour  of  Observation  to  the  Chief  Cities. — Public  In- 
terest Excited  by  this  Extraordinary  INI ission.— Their  (Jriental  Costume,  Manners,  Ceremo- 
nies, Etc. — Japanese  Distinction  Shown  to  Americans. — Character  of  the  Embassy. — Headed 


CONTENTS.  41 

by  Eminent  Princes. — Numerous  and  Brilliant  Suite. — Arrival  at  Washington, — Procession 
to  the  Hotel.— Most  Curious  Spectacle. — How  tlie  Treaty  was  Carried. — Ceremonies  at  the 
White  House.  —  Salutations  and  Speeches.  —  Impressive  International  Scene.  —  Japanese 
Diplomacy. — Deliverin-r  the  Tycoon's  Letter.— Personal  Appearance  of  the  Ambassadors. — 
President  Buchanan's  Opinion. —  Humors  and  Drolleries. — "  Tonnny,"  the  Ladies'  Pet. — 
Gallantry  to  Miss  Lane.— The  Embassy  at  the  Navy  Yard.— Astonishment  Expressed  by 
Them. — Adieu  to  the  President. — America's  Message  to  the  Emperor 732 

LXXXVL 

Arrival  and  Exhibition,  in  New  York,  of  the  Iron  Steamship  Great  Eastern.— 1860. 

The  Largest  and  Most  Extraordinary  Vessel  Ever  Constructed.— Burden,  20,000  Tons  ;  Length, 
Six  Hundred  and  Eiglity  Feet —Tens  of  Thousands  of  Visitors  from  all  Parts  of  the  Union. 
—Admiration  of  Her  Majestic  Proportions,  Ease  of  Movement,  and  Her  Splendid  and  Power> 
ful  Machinery.— Matcliless  Triumph  of  Human  Genius  and  Skill.  — "  Wonders  of  the 
W^orld,"  So  Called. — Modern  Achievements  Pre-eminent.— Marvels  of  Steam  Application.— 
First  Crossing  of  the  Atlantic— Voyage  of  the  Savannah  in  1818.— Curiosity  and  Wonder 
Excited. — A^isited  by  Crowned  Ileads.—Most  Peculiar  Reminiscences  —Building  the  Great 
AVestern.— First  Regular  Ocean  Steamer.— Her  Complete  Success.- Growth  of  Ocean  Steam 
Transit.— Conception  of  the  Great  Eastern.— Her  Nautical  Peculiarities.— Architectural 
Perfection. — Superb  Appointments  Throughout. — Working  Power,  Eight  Thousand  Horses. — 
Ship's  Weight,  12,000  Tons.— Rated  for  Four  Thousand  Passengers.— Appearance  in  New 
Y'ork  Harbor. — Salutes,  Escorts,  Etc.— Greeted  by  Dense  Throngs 740 

LXXXVIL 

General  Walker's  Fillibustering  Expeditions  to  Sonora,  Nicaragua,  and  Hon- 
duras.— 1860. 

Character,  Method,  and  Object  of  His  Schemes. — His  Movements  Marked  by  Bloodshed  and 
Bold  Usurpation  of  Authority. — Retreat,  Capture,  and  Court- IMartial  at  Truxillo. — Cool  Res- 
ignation to  His  Death-Sentence. — Solemn  March  to  the  Place  of  Execution. — Is  Shot,  and 
Instantly  Expires.  — Walker's  "  Star  of  Destiny." —  Short-Sighted  Calculations. —  Daring 
Qualities  of  the  Man. — Bitter  Luck  in  Sonora. — Starvation  :  Inglorious  Flight. — Nicaragua 
the  Land  of  Promise. — Contempt  of  Neutrality  Laws. — United  States  Officials  Outwitted. — 
Champagne  vs.  Handcuffs. —  Battles  at  Rivas  and  Virgin  Bay. —  Splendid  Successes  of 
Walker. — Styles  Himself  "  The  Regenerator." — Treaty  between  Generals  Walker  and  Cor- 
ral.— Corral  Charged  with  Treason,  and  Shot. — Combination  Against  Walker. — His  Escape 
to  the  United  States. — New  but  Abortive  Attempts  on  Nicaragua.— Turns  Up  Next  at  'i'rux- 
illo. — Is  Defeated  by  the  Honduras  Troops. — His  Doom  Announced  to  Him. — Djing  Declara- 
tions.— A  Volley  ;  Three  Cheers ;  the  End 748 

LXXXVIIL 

Tour  of  His  Royal   Highness,  Albert   Edward,  Prince   of   Wales,  Through  the 

United  States. — 1860. 

Friendly  Letters  between  President  Buchanan  and  Queen  Victoria  on  the  Subject. — The 
Prince's  First  Entrance  Into  American  Waters. — Unbounded  Hospitalities  Extended  Him. 
— Hunting  Excursions,  Military  Reviews,  Balls,  Illuminations,  Etc.— Splendid  Banquet  at 
the  White  House. — England's  Apjireciation  of  these  Honors  to  Her  Future  King.— Heir  to 
the  British  Throne. — Arrival  at  Detroit,  Chicago,  Etc. — Enthusiastic  Crowds  Greet  Him. — 
His  Way  Completely  Blocked  Up. — On  a  Hunt :  Fine  Sportsman. — Receptions  at  Various 
Cities.— Locomotive  Ride  to  Washington. — Guest  of  President  Buchanan. — Courtesies  and 
Ceremonials.— Visit  to  Mount  Vernon.— At  the  Tomb  of  Washington.— Unparalleled  His- 
torical Scene. — He  Plants  a  Tree  at  the  Grave. — Rare  Scenes  in  I'hiladelphia. — New  York 
and  Boston  Festivities. — Present  from  Trinity  Church,  New  Y^ork.— Greatest  Balls  Ever 
Known. — He  Meets  a  Bunker  Hill  Veteran. — Impressions  of  America. — Incidents,  Anecdotes, 
Interviews.— His  Looks,  Manners,  Dress,  Etc. — Brilliant  Farewell  at  Portland.     .     .     .     7.56 


42  CONTENTS. 

LXXXIX. 

Bombardment  and  Reduction  of  Fort  Sumter. — 1861. 

Inauguration  of  Civil  War  in  the  United  States. — First  Military  Act  in  the  Long  and  Bloody 
Struggle  to  Dismember  the  Union. — -Organization  of  the  Southern  Confederacy. — President 
Lincoln's  Proclamation  for  75,000  Volunteers. — Spontaneous  Uprising  of  the  Loyal  People. 
— Calling  the  Battle-Roll  of  the  ReiDublic. — Supreme  Ci'isis  in  the  Fate  of  the  Nation. — 
Northern  and  Southern  Variances. — Slavery  the  Cause  of  Contention. — Culmination  of  the 
Antagonism. — Disunion  Banner  of  the  South. — Secession  of  Several  States. — War  Wager 
Boldly  Staked. — Vain  Efforts  at  Reconciliation. — Federal  Property  Seized  at  the  South. — 
Batteries  Erected  at  Charleston. — Fort  Sumter  Closely  Besieged. — Beauregard  Demands  its 
Surrender. — Major  Anderson's  Flat  Refusal. — Weakness  of  His  Garrison. — Attempts  to  Re- 
enforce  It. — Prevented  by  Confederate  Batteries. — All  Eyes  Riveted  on  the  Fort. — Opening 
of  the  Attack,  April  Fourteenth. — Incessant  and  Tremendous  Fire. — Terms  of  Evacuation 
Accepted. — Southern  Rejoicings. — The  Great  Military  Outlook. — Washington  the  National 
Key 764: 

XC. 

Astonishing  Feats  of  Horse-Taming  Performed  by  Mr.  John  S.  Rarey. — 1861. 

The  Most  Savage  and  Furious  Animals  Made  Tractable  as  Lambs. — The  Ferocious  and  Far- 
Famed  "  Cruiser  "  Lies  Docile  at  His  Master's  Feet. — Acclamations  of  Wonder  and  Admira- 
tion by  Crowded  Audiences. — Brilliant  Honors  from  Monarchs  and  Courts  Abroad. — Philos- 
ophy of  Mr.  Rarey's  Method  and  Success. — Mr.  Rarey  Personally. — Boyhood  Fondness  for 
Horses. — Aptness  in  Training  Them. — Discovers  an  Improved  Method. — Its  Perfect  Success. 
— Wild  Prairie  Horses  Subdued. — Determines  to  Exhibit  Abroad. — His  Skill  Challenged  in 
London. — "  Cruiser  "  to  be  the  Great  Test, — Rage  and  Fury  of  the  Animal. — Plunging, 
Rearing,  Yelling,  Biting. — Rarey's  Complete  Triumph. — ]Monarchs  and  Princes  Present. — 
Their  Surprise  and  Delight.— Victoria's  Rapturous  Applause. — Exhibitions  in  the  United 
States. — Terrible  Cases  Dealt  With. — Rarey  Always  Conqueror. — His  Calm,  Fine,  Firm 
Voice. — Cool,  Quiet,  Quick  Movements. — Magnetism  of  His  Presence. — Details  of  the  Sys- 
tem  772 

XCL 

Battle  at  Bull  Run,  Va.,  between  the  Federal  and  Confederate  Armies. — 1861. 

First  Important  Engagement  in  the  Great  Civil  War.— Severe  Fighting  for  Many  Hours. — 
Most  Disastrous  Defeat  of  the  Federal  Troops. — Their  Uncontrollable  Panic  and  Headlong 
Flight. — The  South  Jubilant. — Gloom  and  Humiliation  of  the  Loyal  States. — Three  Months 
Since  Sumter  Fell. — Armies  Massed  at  Washington  and  Richmond. — Threats  Against  the 
Federal  Capital. — Irritation  and  Impatience  of  the  North. — "  On  to  Richmond  !  "  the  Union 
War-Cry. — March  of  McDowell's  Army. — Plan  of  the  Movement. — Rousing  the  Southern 
Forces. — Their  Unexpected  Strength. — Uncertain  Fate  of  the  Day. — Re-enforcements  for  the 
Confederates. — Davis's  Arrival  on  the  Ground. — He  Exclaims,  "Onward,  My  Brave  Com- 
rades!"— Their  Wild  Enthusiasm. — A  Lost  Battle  for  the  Union. — Complete  Demoralization. 
— Three  Miles  of  Scattered  Troops. — Arms,  Stores,  etc.,  Flung  Away. — Distressing  Sights 
and  Sounds.— Thanksgiving  Appointed  by  Davis. — Te  Deums  Sung  in  the  Southern  Churches. 
— Lessons  Taught  by  this  Battle 780 

XCIL 
Extraordinary  Combat   between  the  Iron-Clads  Merrimac  and  Monitor,  in 

Hampton  Roads. — 18G2. 

Sudden  Appearance  of  the  Merrimac  Among  the  Federal  Frigates. — Their  Swift  and  Terrible 
Destruction  by  Her  Steel  Prow. — Unexpected  Arrival  of  the  "  Little  Monitor  "  at  the  Scene 
of  Action. — She  Engages  and  Disables  the  Monster  Craft  in  a  Four  Hours  Fight. — Total 
Revolution  in  Naval  Warfare  the  World  Over  by  this  Remarkable  Contest. — How  the  INIer- 
rimac  Changed  Hands.— Burned  and  Sunk  at  Norfolk,  Va. — Her  Hull  Raised  by  the  Confed- 
erates.— She  is  Iron  Roofed  and  Plated.— Proof  Against  Shot  and  Shell. — A  Powerful  Steel 


CONTENTS.  43 

Beak  in  Her  Prow. — Most  Formid.ablo  Vessel  Afloat. — Tn  Command  of  Commodore  Buchanan. 
— Departs  from  Norfolk,  March  Eighth. — Pierces  and  Sinks  the  Cumberland. — Next  Attacks 
the  Congress. — The  Noble  Frigate  Destroyed. — Fight  Begun  with  the  Minnesota. — Suspended 
at  Nightfall. — Trip  of  the  Monitor  from  New  York. — Her  New  and  Singular  Build. — Lieu- 
tenant Worden  Hears  of  the  Battles. — Resolves  to  Grapple  witli  the  Monster. — The  Two 
Together  Next  Day.— A  Scene  Never  to  be  Forgotten. — Worden  Turns  the  Tide  of  Fortune. 
— Repulse  and  Retreat  of  the  Merrimac 789 

xcin. 

Battlk  of  Antiktam,  Maryland. — 1862. 

Bloodiest  Day  That  America  Ever  Saw. — Nearly  One  Hundred  Thousand  Men  on  Each  Side. 
— General  McClellan  Declares  on  the  Field  that  it  is  "  the  Battle  of  the  War." — Four  Miles 
and  Fourteen  Hours  of  Fighting  and  Slaughter. — The  Shock  and  "  Glory  "  of  War  on  a 
Colossal  Scale. — Obstinate  Bravery  of  the  Contending  Foes. — Some  of  the  Regiments  Almost 
Annihilated. — The  Union  Troops  Hold  the  Disputed  Ground. — Lee's  Great  Military  Object. 
— His  Troops  Enter  Maryland. — Frowning  Masses  of  Soldiery. — Surrender  of  Harper's  Ferry. 
— McClellau's  Army  in  Motion. —  He  Attacks  the  Enemy  in  Position. — Hooker  Leads  the 
Advance. — He  is  Shot  and  Disabled. — Death  of  General  Mansfield. — Other  Union  Generals 
Wounded. — Reno's  Untimely  End. — Rain  of  Shot  and  Shell. — Various  Fortunes  of  the  Day. 
— Close  and  Stern  Ordeal. — Feat  of  Burnside's  Corps. — Their  Struggle  for  the  Hill. — A  Fear- 
ful Crisis  with  General  Burnside. — He  Asks  for  Re-enforcements. — McClellan's  Memorable 
Reply. — Driving  the  Enemy  tn  masse. — Forty  of  Their  Colors  Taken. — The  After-Scene  of 
Horror 798 

XCIV. 

Proclamation  of  Emaxcipation,  as  a  War  Measure,  by  President  Lincoln. — 180.3. 

More  than  Three  Millions,  in  Bondage  at  the  South,  Declared  Forever  Free. — Most  Important 
American  State  Paper  Since  July  Fourth,  1776. — Pronounced,  by  the  President,  "  the  Great 
Event  of  the  Nineteenth  Century." — The  Whole  System  of  Slavery  Finally  Swept  from  the 
Republic,  by  Victories  in  the  Field  and  by  Constitutional  Amendments. — Mr.  Lincoln's 
Views  on  Slavery. — Opposed  to  all  Unconstitutional  Acts. — His  Orders  to  Union  Generals. — 
Prohibits  the  Arming  of  Negroes. — Alarming  Progress  of  Events. — The  Great  Exigency  at 
Last. — Slavery  versus  the  Union. — Solemn  and  Urgent  Alternative. — Emancipation  Under  the 
War-Power. — Preparation  of  the  Great  Document. — Its  Submission  to  the  Cabinet. — Opin- 
ions and  Discussions. — Singular  Reason  for  Delay. — Mr.  Lincoln's  Vow  to  God. — Waiting 
for  a  Union  Triumph. — Decided  by  the  Battle  of  Antietam. — Final  Adoption  of  the  Measure. 
— Mr.  Carpenter's  Admirable  Narrative. — Public  Reception  of  the  ProclaTuation. — Promulga- 
tion at  the  South. — Scenes  of  Joy  Among  the  Freedmen. — Enfranchisement  Added  to  Fiee- 
dom 807 

XCV. 

Campaign  against  Vicksburg,  "The  Gibraltar  of  the    Mississippi,"  by  the  Union 

Forces.— 1863. 

The  Genius,  Valor,  and  Resources  of  Both  Armies  Tasked  to  Their  Utmost. — Final  Capitula- 
tion of  the  City  by  General  Pemberton,  After  a  Prolonged  and  Brilliant  Siege. — Heaviest 
Blow  Yet  Dealt  the  Secession  Cause.— General  McPherson  Receives  the  Formal  Surrender. — 
37,000  Prisoners,  Fifteen  Generals,  Arms  and  Munitions  for  60,000  Men,  the  Trophies. — Geo- 
graphical Importance  of  Vicksburg.— Its  Commanding  Fortifications. — Farragut's  Naval 
Siege  Powerless. — Sherman's  Attack  Repulsed. — Grant  Assumes  Active  Command. — Vigoi- 
ous  Operations  Undertaken.— His  Series  of  Victorious  Battles. — Futile  Attempt  to  Storm 
Vicksburg. — Hours  of  Terrific  Cannonading. — A  Systematic  Siege  Begun. — Thorough  In- 
vestment at  all  Points. — Federal  Sapping  and  Mining. — They  Mine  and  Blow  up  Fort  Hill. — 
Awful  Spectacle  of  Blood  and  Ruin.— Deadly  Struggle  for  a  Foothold.— Success  of  the  Forty- 
fifth  Illinois.— Their  Colors  Surmount  the  Work.— Pemberton  Sends  a  Flag  of  Truce.— His 
Interview  with  Grant.— Grant's  Terms  :  "  Unconditional  Surrender."— The  Victors  Entnr 
the  City,  July  Fourth. — Curious  Reminiscences. 817 


44  CONTENTS. 

XCVL 

Three  Days'  Battle  between  the  Concentrated  Armies  of  Generals  Meade  and 

Lee,  at  Gettysburg,  Pa. — 18G3. 

Overwhelming  Invasion  of  Pennsylvania  by  the  Confederate  Forces. — The  Union  Army  Drives 
Them  with  Great  Slaugliter  Across  the  Potomac. — Unsuccessful  Attempt  to  Transfer  the 
Seat  of  War  from  Virginia  to  Northern  Soil. — One  of  the  Most  Decisive  and  Important 
Federal  Victories  m  the  Great  American  Civil  Conflict. — Lee's  Army  Impatient  to  go  North. 
— Order  of  March  at  Last. — Consternation  in  the  Border  States. — Call  for  One  Hundred 
Thousand  More  Men. — Advance  of  INIeade's  Army. — Face  to  Face  With  the  Foe. — Engagement 
between  the  Vanguards. — Terrific  Artillery  Contests. — Movements  and  Counter  Movements. — 
Severe  Reverses  on  Both  Sides. — Carnage  at  Cemetery  Hill. — Longstreet's  Furious  Onset. — 
Most  Destructive  Cannonade. — Gettysburg  a  Vast  Hospital. — Crawford's  Grand  Charge. — 
Standing  by  the  Batteries  ! — Hand-to-Hand  Conflict. — Following  the  Battle-Flag. — Deadly 
and  Impetuous  Fighting. — Forty-one  Confederate  Standards  Taken. — Unbounded  Joy  of 
the  Victors. — President  Lincoln's  Announcement 8'2G 

XCVIL 

Oratorical  Championship  of  America's  Cause  in  England,  b^  Rev.  H.  W. 

Beecher. — 1803. 

His  Olympian  Speeches,  in  Defiance  of  British  Sentiment,  in  the  Great  Citios  of  the  Kingdom. 
— His  Eloquence  Rises  to  the  Very  Crown  of  the  Occasion. — Superb  Exhibition  of  Forensic 
Power  in  Liverpool. — He  Wrestles,  Single-Handed  and  Triumphantly,  for  Three  Hours,  with 
a  Vast  and  Tumultuous  Mob  in  that  City. — Reception  at  Exeter  Hall,  London. — INIr.  Beech- 
er's  Tour  Undertaken  for  His  Health. — Reaches  England,  Homeward  Bound. — Civil  Conflict 
Raging  in  America. — Mr.  Beecher  Urged  to  Speak  on  United  States  Affairs. —  Opening 
Speech  in  Mancliester. — Great  Audience  of  Seven  Thousand. — Attempts  to  Silence  Him. — 
Powerlessness  of  the  Opposition. —  Splend  d  Qualities  a3  an  Orator. — Discussions  in  Glasgow 
and  Edinburgh. — Battle  Waged  by  INIr.  Beecher  in  Liverpool. — Violent  Efforts  to  Gag  Him. 
— A  Maddened  Sea  of  Insult. — Taunts,  Curses,  Hissses,  Fiuy. — Stampings,  Hootings.  Yell- 
ings. — Beecher's  Pluck,  and  Good  Humor. — He  Triumphs  Over  the  "Wild  Tempest. — A  Spec- 
tacle Never  Before  Wituessed. — Grand  Closing  Scene  in  the  British  Capital. — Vast  and 
Excited  Assembly. — He  Carries  the  House  by  Storm. — Plaudits  and  Congratulations. .     836 

XCVIII. 

Erection  and  Inauguration  of  the  Great  Organ  in  the  Boston  Music  Hall. — 18G3. 

Most  Majestic  and  Perfect  Instrument  of  the  Kind  in  America. — Almost  without  an  Equal 
in  the  Whole  World.— Height,  Sixty  Feet;  AVidth,  Forty-eight  Feet;  Depth,  Twenty-four 
Feet;  Weight,  Seventy  Tons;  Cost,  $30,000. —  Its  Vast  and  Enchanting  Harmonies  and 
Wondrous  Frame  of  Architectural  Beauty. — The  ^Masterpiece  of  Musical  Art.— Origin  of  the 
Enterpiise. —  Dr.  Upham's  Grand  Conception. —  Full  Powers  Conferred  Upon  Hini.^IIis 
Se.ven  Years'  Labor  and  Care. — America  and  Europe  Explored. — A  Colossal  Instrument 
Decided  On. — Object  and  Influence  of  Such. — Contract  for  Its  Construction  in  Geiniany. — 
Unrivaled  Mechanism  of  the  AVork. — Completed,  and  Shipjied  for  Boston. — Three  Months' 
Tempestuous  Voyage. — En.slirinement  of  the  Organ  in  a  Cas(>.— Its  Towers,  Domes,  and 
Sculptures.— Wind  Pipits,  Tiiirty-two  Feet  Long. — Eighty-nine  Full  Registers. — Total  Nuni- 
bi'r  of  Pipes,  Five  Thousand  Four  Hundred  and  Seventy-four.— C"a]iacity  of  the  Organ,  Six 
Thousand  Voices. — Ease  witli  which  It  is  Performed. — Marvelous  Lights  and  Shades  of  Tone. 
— First  Exposition  to  the  Public— Enthusiasm  and  Joy  on  the  Occasion. — Music,  Poetry, 
Art,  Beauty 814 

XCIX. 
Combat   between  the   Alabama,  Captain    Semmes,   and  the    Kearsarge,  Captain 

Winslow,  off  Cherbourg. — 1864. 
The  Alabama  is  Sunk  after  an  Hour's  Engagement,  in  Sight  of  the  Two  Gieat  Maritime  Pow- 
ers of  Europe. — Semmes  Tlirows  His  Sword  Away,  Jumps  Overboard,  and  Escapes. — Rela- 


CONTENTS.  45 

tive  Equality,  in  Size  and  Armament,  of  the  Two  Vessels.  —  The  Previous  Destructive 
Career  of  the  Alabama  Against  Northern  Commerce. — Causeless  Raid  on  Marine  Property. 
— Fault  in  the  Law  of  Nations. — British  Origin  of  the  Alabama. — Her  Unmistakable  Char- 
acter.— Peculiar  Model  and  Equipment. — Adapted  to  Destroy,  Fight,  or  Run. — Adroit  Ship- 
ment of  Stores  and  Guns. — Ready  for  a  Start. — All  Hands  IVfustercd  Aft. — Semmes  Reads 
Aloud  His  Commission. — Cheers  for  Davis,  Semmes,  Etc. — Salute  Fired:  Hoisting  the  Flag. 
— A  Long  Cruise :  Tt;n'ible  Ravages. — I'uts  in,  at  Cherbourg,  France. — The  United  vStates 
Ship  Kearsarge  on  His  Track. — Semmes  Boldly  Offers  to  Fight. — Preliminary  ]\Laneuvers  of 
the  Ships. — Seven  Circles  Round  Each  Other.— Semmes's  Rapid  and  Furious  Fire. — Supe- 
rior Gumiery  of  the  Kearsarge. — Its  Fatal  Effect  on  the  Alabama. — Incidents  of  this 
Renowned  Fight 851 

C. 

Admiral  Farragut's  Achievements  at  New  Orleans  in  1862,  and  at  Mobile  Bay  in 
1864 ;   and  Admiral  Porter's  Crowning  Victory  in  1865,  at  Fort  Fisher. — 1864. 

His  Astonishing  Feat  of  Rowing  Past  the  Confederate  Batteries. — Fierce  and  Sanguinary  Con- 
test between  the  Admiral's  Flag-ship,  the  Hartford,  and  Admiral  Buchanan's  Monster  Ram, 
the  Tennessee. — The  Latter  Proves  Herself,  for  a  Time,  a  Match  for  the  Whole  Union  Fleet. 
— Farragut's  Overwhelming  Victory. — Farragut  Pressed  to  Join  the  South. — His  Unswerv- 
ing Fidelity  to  the  Old  Flag.  — High  Ti-ust  Committed  to  Him. — Sailing  of  His  Great  Fleet. 
— Bold  and  Successful  Plan  of  Battle. — Admiral  Porter's  Splendid  Services. — Ports  Jackson 
and  St.  Philip  Wrecked. — New  Orleans  Again  Under  the  United  States  Flag. — Another 
Theater  of  Naval  Operations. — Forts,  Rams,  Iron-Clads,  Etc.,  to  Fight. — Powerful  Build  of 
the  Tennessee. — Makes  for  Her  Antagonist  at  Full  Speed. — Intended  Running  Down  of  the 
Hartford. — Farragut's  Masterly  Maneuvers. — Unexpected  Feature  in  His  Tactics. — Deadly 
Contact  of  the  Various  Craft. — Tremendous  Cannonades. — The  "  Glory"  and  Horrors  of 
War. — Stubborn  Bravery  of  the  Great  Ram. — Crippled  at  Last:  The  White  Flag. — The 
Stars  and  Stripes  on  Her  Staff. — Buchanan  Yields  His  Sword 859 

CL 

Grand  March  of  the  Union  Army,  under  General  Sherman,  Through  the  Heart 

OF  THE    South. — 1864. 

Generals  and  Armies  Baffled,  and  States  and  Cities  Conquei-ed,  Without  a  Serious  Disaster  to 
the  Victors. — Display  of  Military  Genius  Unsurpassed  in  Any  Age  or  Country. — The  Southern 
Confederacy  Virtually  Crushed  Within  the  Coils  of  this  Wide-Sweeping,  Bold,  and  Resist- 
less Movement. — The  Great  Closing  Act  in  the  Campaign. — Sherman's  Qualities  as  a  Com- 
mander.— His  Great  Military  Success. — His  Own  Story. — A  Brilliant  Campaign  Planned. — 
Brave  and  Confident  Troops. — Atlanta,  Ga.,  the  First  Great  Prize. — Destroys  that  City:  Starts 
for  the  Coast. — Kilpatrick  Leads  the  Cavalry. — Thomas  Defends  the  Border  States. — Success- 
ful Feints  Made  by  Sherman. — Subsists  His  Men  on  the  Enemy's  Country. — Immense  Sweep 
of  the  Onward  Columns. — Savannah's  Doom  Sealed. — Fall  of  Fort  McAllister. — Christmas 
Gift  to  the  President. — Advance  Into  South  Carolina. — The  Stars  and  Stripes  in  Her  Cap- 
ital.— All  Opposition  Powerless. — North  Carolina's  Turn  Next. — Swamps,  Hills,  Quagmires, 
Storms,  Floods. — Battles  Fought:  Onward  to  Raleigh. — Johnston's  Whole  Army  Bagged. — 
Sherman  Described  Personally 868 

CIL 

Fall  of  Richmond,  Va.,  the  Confederate  Capital. — 1865. 
The  Entrenched  City  Closely  Encompassed  for  Months  by  General  Grant's  Brave  Legions  and 
Walls  of  Steel. — Flight  of  Jefferson  Davis,  and  Surrender  of  General  Lee's  Army. — Overthrow 
of  the  Four  Years'  Gigantic  Rebellion. — The  ^gis  and  Starry  Ensigns  of  the  Republic 
Everywhere  Dominant. — Transports  of  Joy  Fill  the  Land. — A  Nation's  Laurels  Crown  the 
Head  of  the  Conqueror  of  Peace. — Memorable  Day  in  Human  Affairs. — Momentous  Issues 
Involved. — Heavy  Cost  of  this  Triumph. — W^ithout  It,  a  Lost  Republic. — Unequaled  Valor 


46  CONTENTS. 

Displayed. — Sherman's  Grand  Conceptions. — Sheridan's  Splendid  Generalship. — Onward 
March  of  Events. — Strategy,  Battles,  Victories. — I^ee's  Lines  Fatally  Broken. — Approach  of 
the  Final  Crisis. — Richmond  Evacuated  by  Night. — Retreat  of  Lee  :  Vigorous  Pursuit. — 
His  Hopeless  Resistance  to  Grant.^Their  Correspondence  and  Interview. — The  Two  Great 
Generals  Face  to  Face. — What  Was  Said  and  Done. — Aimouncing  the  Result. — Parting  of 
Lee  with  His  Soldiers. — President  Lincoln's  Visit  to  Richmond. — Raising  the  United  States 
Flag  at  Fort  Sumter. — Davis  a  Prisoner  in  Fortress  Monroe 877 


cin. 

ASSASSINATIOX     OF     PRESIDENT      LiNCOLX,     AT     FoUD's     TheATER,     WaSHINGTOX,     BY     J. 

Wilkes  Booth. — 1865. 
Conspiracy  to  Murder,  Simultaneously,  all  the  Chief  Officers  of  the  Government. — The  Most 
Exalted  and  Beloved  of  Mortal  Rulers  Falls  a  Victim. — A  Universal  Wail  of  Anguish  and 
Lamentation  Poured  Forth  from  the  National  Heart. — Darkest  Page  in  the  History  of  the 
Country.— Funeral  Cortege  Through  Fifteen  States.— Tragical  Fate  of  the  Conspirators.— 
Object  of  this  Most  Infamous  of  Crimes.— Singular  Time  of  Its  Perpetration.— Virtual  End 
of  the  Great  Civil  War. — Dawn  of  Peace  :  Universal  Joy. — President  Lincoln's  Happy  Frame 
of  Mind.— How  He  Passed  His  Last  Day. — Conversations  on  the  Evening  of  April  Four- 
teenth.—Makes  an  Engagement  for  the  Morrow.— Last  Time  He  Signed  His  Name.— Re- 
luctantly Goes  to  the  Theater. — Arrives  Late:  Immense  Audience. — Plans  and  Movements  of 
the  Assassin.— The  Fatal  Shot :  a  Tragedy  of  Horrors.— Removal  of  the  President  to  a  Pri- 
vate House.— Speechless  and  Unconscious  to  the  End.— Death-Bed  Scenes  and  Incidents.— 
The  Nation  Stunned  at  the  Appalling  News.— Its  Reception  at  the  South,  and  by  General 
Lee. — A  Continent  in  Tears  and  Mourning. — Most  Imposing  Obsequies  Ever  Known. — 
Booth's  Swift  and  Bloody  End.— Trial  of  His  Male  and  Female  Accomplices.      ...    887 


CIV. 

Successful  Laying  of  the  Telegraph  Cable   Across  the   Atlantic   Ocean. — 1866. 

The  Old  World  and  the  New  United  by  Instantaneous  Communication. — Pronounced  the 
Grandest  of  Human  Enterprises.— Ten  Years  of  Difficulty  and  Failure  in  the  Mighty  Task. 
— The  Name  of  Its  Indomitable  Projector  Crowned  with  Immortal  Honor. — Illustrations  of 
the  Power  and  Wonders  of  this  New-Born  Agent  of  Civilization. — Ocean  Telegraphs  Early 
Predicted.— First  Attempt  in  1857. — Breaking  of  the  Wire.— Fresh  but  Abortive  Trials  in 
1858  and  186.5.— Great  Preparations  for  1866.— Exquisite  Construction  of  the  Cable.— A 
Wealthy  and  Powerful  Company. — Cyrus  W.  Field,  Its  Master-Spirit.— Employment  of  the 
Great  Eastern.— Laying  the  Shore-End  at  Valentia.— Rejoicing  of  the  Inhabitants.— Voyage 
of  the  Fleet  to  America.— Incidents  and  Accidents.— Intense  Solicitude,  Day  and  Night.— A 
Joyous  Morning  1  July  Twenty-seventh.— Perfect  Success  from  End  to  End.— First  News 
Dispatch,  Peace  in  Europe. — Messages  between  the  President  and  Queen. — Compliments  to 
Mr.  Field.— His  Interview  with  Lord  Clarendon.— John  Bright's  Sparkling  Tribute.— Moral 
Uses  of  the  Cable 899 


CV. 
Completion  of  the  Pacific  Railroad. — 1869. 
Spikes  of  the  Richest  (Jold  and  a  Hammer  of  Pure  Silver  Used  in  Laying  the  Last  Rail.— The 
Blows  of  the  Sledge  Telegraphed  to  all  the  Great  Cities.— The  Wide  Continent  Spanned  with 
Iron  from  the  Farthest  East  to  the  Golden  Gate.— Junction  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific 
Oceans. — Seven  Days  from  New  York  to  San  Francisco. — Greatest  Railroad  Route  on  the 
Face  of  the  Earth.— "Manifest  Destiny"  of  the  United  States.— A  Pacific  Highway  Agitated 
For  Years. — Its  National  Importance  and  Necessity. — Charters  and  Government  Aid  at  Last. 
— The  "Union"  and  "Central"  Companies.— National  Difficulties  to  be  Overcome. — Feats 
of  Engineering  Involved.— Triumphs  of  Science  in  this  Respect. — Mountains  Tunneled,  Riv- 
ers Bridged.— Gulfs  Spanned,  Depths  Fathomed.— Vastness  and  Progress  of  the  Work.— A 


CONTENTS.  47 

Force  of  Twenty-five  Thousand  Men  and  Six  Thousand  Teams. — First  Train  at  the  Top  of 
the  Sierras. — Pushing  the  Line  to  Completion. — Approach  of  the  Two  Grand  Divisions. — 
Union  at  Promontory  Point,  Utah. — Exultation  Over  the  Victory. — Historic  Scene  in  the 
Heart  of  America. — Offerings  of  (Jold,  Silver,  Iron,  and  Laurel. — Telegram  to  President 
Grant. — Celebrations  in  the  Principal  Cities. — Easy  Journey  Around  the  World.  .     .     .     907 


CVL 

National  Peace  Jubilee  and  Musical  Festival  For  Five  Days,  in  Boston,  in  Honor 
OF  the  Restoration  of  the  Union  of  the  States. — 1869. 

Ten  Thousand  Singers,  an  Orchestra  of  One  Thousand  Instruments,  and  Tens  of  Thousands  of 
Spectators,  in  the  Coliseum,  an  Immense  Building  Erected  for  the  Occasion. — Attendance  of 
President  Grant. — Sublime  and  Inspiring  Harmonies. — Most  Majestic  Musical  Demonstra- 
tion of  Modern  Times. — Origin  of  the  Jubilee. — P.  S.  Gilmore  :  His  Zeal  and  Enthusiasm. — 
All  Discouragements  Overcome. — Magnificent  Programme. — Splendor  of  the  Coliseum. — It 
Covers  Nearly  Four  Acres. — Inauguration  Ceremonies. — View  of  the  Audience. — Scene  of 
Surpassing  Enchantment. — Beauty  of  the  Decorations. — Overtures,  Choruses,  Anthems,  Etc. 
— Parepa-Rosa,  Phillipps,  Ole  Bull. — Their  Professional  Triumphs. — Zerrahn,  Tourjee,  Eich- 
berg. — The  Famous  "  Anvil  "  Chorus. — Chiming  the  City  Bells. — Novel  Commingling  of 
Artillery  with  IMusic. — Tremendous  Ovation  to  Grant. — Half  a  Million  People  in  the  City. — 
Testimonial  to  Mr.  Gilmore. — Last  Day :  Concert  by  10,000  Children. — Triumphant  Success 
of  the  Jubilee 915 


CVIL 

Burning  of  the  City  of  Chicago,  III.,  the  Commercial  Metropolis  of  the  North- 
west.—1871. 

Most  Destructive  Conflagration  in  the  History  of  Civilized  Nations. — A  Thirty  Hours'  Tornado 
of  Fire  in  all  Directions. — Vast  Billows  of  Inextinguishable  Flame. — Upwards  of  Two  Thou- 
sand Acres,  or  Seventy-three  Miles  of  Streets,  with  17,450  Buildings,  Destroyed:  Loss, 
1200,000,000.— Ignoble  Origin  of  the  Fire.— Fatal  Mistake  of  a  Policeman.— Combustibles 
all  Around. — A  Strong  Gale  Prevailing. — Frightful  Rapidity  of  the  Flames. — Destruction  of 
the  Water-Works. — Stores  and  Warehouses  Swept  Away.— Palaces  and  Hovels  a  Common 
Prey. — Engines  Sent  from  Seven  States. — The  JMidnight  Scene. — Terror  Indescribable. — 
Flight  for  Life. — Burning  of  the  Bridges. — Hopelessness,  Desperation,  Death. — Churches, 
Hotels,  Theaters,  in  Ashes. — Fate  of  the  Newspapers,  Banks,  etc. — Explosion  of  the  Gas- 
Works. — Tombs  and  Graves  Consumed.— Most  Ghastly  Spectacle. — Nearly  100,000  Persons 
Homeless.— The  Wail  for  Help.— A  World's  Sympathies  Poured  Forth 924 


CVIII. 

Terrible  Fire  in  the  Business  Heart  of  Boston.— 1872. 

It  Rages  Fiercely,  Night  and  Day,  and  Consumes  the  Widest  and  Most  Magnificent  Area  of 
Solid  Granite  Warehouses  on  the  Continent. — Some  Sixty-five  Acres  of  these  Massive  and 
Apparently  Indestructible  Commercial  Palaces  Crumble  Like  Chalk  in  the  Intense  Heat.— 
The  Great  Financial  and  Commercial  Center  of  New  England  Destroyed.— Surprising  Char- 
acter of  this  Fire.— Comparison  with  that  of  Chicago.— No  Gale:  Moderate  Weather. — 
Strange  Rapidity  of  the  Flames.— They  Spread  in  all  Directions.— Triumphant  Sweep  from 
Block  to  Block.— Thoroughness  of  the  Destruction.— Iron  and  Stone  No  Barriers.— Difficulties 
of  the  Situation.— Great  Height  of  the  Stores.— Narrowness  of  the  Streets.—Trinity  Church 
in  Ruins.— Blowing  up  with  Gunpowder.— Grand  and  Terrible  Scenes.— Narrow  Escape  of 
the  "  Old  South."— State  Street  and  its  Treasures  Reached.— Victory  at  Last  by  the  Firemen. 
—Peril,  Bravery,  Death.— A  Whole  City  in  Darkness.— Some  Eight  Hundred  Buildings 
Burned.— Trades  that  Specially  Sufl:"ered.— Loss  About  $85, 000,000 931 


48  CONTENTS. 

CIX. 

The  National  Grange  Movement. — 1872. 

Popular  Organizations  in  the  Interests  of  Labor. — Changes  Sought  in  the  Relations  between 
Producers  and  Consumers. — General  Declaration  of  Principles  and  Aims. — A  System  of  Uni- 
versal Co-operation  Proposed.— Results  to  be  Realized  by  Such  Combinations. — Patrons  of 
Husbandry  and  Sovereigns  of  Industry. — Initiative  Proceedings  in  18G7. — First  Grange 
Founded  in  Washington,  D.  C. — Agriculture  the  Grand  Basis. — Mutual  Protection  and 
Advancement. — Small  Encouragement  at  the  Beginning. — Immense  Growth  in  Five  Years. 
— Activity  in  the  West  and  South. — Social  and  Moral  Aspects. — Plan  of  Business  Action. — 
Partisan  Prejudices  Disavowed. — No  Political  Tests  Involved. — Opinions  of  Eminent  Leaders 
Cited. — Views  of  Foreign  Publicists. — Vital  Point  in  the  New  System. — Commercial  and 
Financial  Theories. — Grain  and  Cotton  Pi-oducts. — Alleged  Errors  in  Trade  Customs. — Indi- 
vidual vs.  Associated  Efforts. — '  Middlemen '  a  Disadvantage. — Substitute  for  Their  Interven- 
tion.— The  Case  Illustrated. — Difficulties  and  Remedies 938 

ex. 

Trial  of  Rev.  H.  W.  Beecher,  for  Adultery  with  Mrs.  Theodore  Tilton,  as  Charged 

BY  Her  Husband. — 1875. 

The  Name  of  the  Accused,  as  Preacher,  Author,  and  Reformer,  Co-extensive  with  Christianity 
and  Civilization.  —  Story  of  the  Plaintiff,  of  the  Wife,  and  of  the  Defendant.  —  The 
Longest  and  Most  Bitter  Contest  in  American  Judicial  Annals.  —  A  Wide- Spread 
Social  Tragedy.  —  Suffocating  Crowds  Fill  the  Hall.  —  Array  of  Eminent  Counsel.  — 
Mrs.  Tilton  and  Mrs.  Beecher  Attend  Daily. — Flowers  and  Applause. — Activity  of  the 
Press  and  Telegraph. — Foundation  of  the  Terrible  Charges. — Damages  Laid  at  $100,000. 
— Mrs.  Tilton's  Confessions  to  Her  Husband. — A  Retraction  Obtained  from  Her  by  Mr. 
Beecher. — Mr.  Moulton,  for  Mr.  Tilton,  Demands  Its  Return. — Explanations  by  Mr.  Beecher, 
— Denial  of  any  Improprieties. — Mr.  Tilton's  Appearance  on  the  Stand. — Nature  of  the 
Defense. — Mr,  Beecher  in  His  Own  Behalf. — Mrs.  Tilton's  Appeal  to  the  Court. — One  Hun- 
dred and  Eleven  Witnesses  Called. — Great  Conflict  of  Testimony. — Opinion  and  Rulings 
of  the  Judge. — The  Jury  Seven  Days  Out. — Their  Final  Disagreement 945 

CXL 

Centennial  Commemoration  of  the  Birth  of  the  Republic. — 1876. 
Year  of  Jubilee,  Festival,  and  Pageant,  throughout  the  Land. — Prosperity,  Power,  and  Renown 
of  the  Nation. — A  Union  of  Nearly  Forty  Great  Commonwealths  and  Forty  Million  People. — 
Anticipations  of  the  Coming  Anniversary. — Legislation  by  Congress  for  its  Patriotic  Obser- 
vance.— A  Grand  Exposition  of  the  Century's  Growth  and  Progress,  the  Principal  Feature 
Decided  Upon. — Vast  Work  of  Preparation. — The  Whole  World  at  Peace,  and  All  Countries 
and  Climes  in  Sympathy  with  the  Republic  and  its  Auspicious  Era. — Ushering  in  the  Year's 
Ceremonials. — Every  City,  Town,  and  Village,  Covered  with  Gay  Streamers  and  Waving 
Flags. — Pomp,  Parade,  and  Universal  Fraternization. — Wondrous  Microcosm  of  Civilization 
Concentrated  at  Philadelphia. — The  Culminating  Art  and  Skill  of  Sixty  Centuries  of  Human 
Advancement,  and  the  Products  of  Every  Quarter  of  the  Globe,  Displayed  in  Their  Richest 
Illustrations. — An  Unprecedented  Scene:  President  and  Emperor  Receiving  the  Salutations 
of  the  American  People. — Oratory,  Music,  Poetry,  Bells,  Illuminations,  Cannon,  Regattas, 
Banners,  Hallelujahs,  and  Huzzas. — The  Beauty,  Utility,  and  Magnificence  of  the  Orient  and 
Occident,  in  Boundless  Combinations.^ — Tin;  "  Glorious  Fourth,"  All  Over  the  Land. — Con- 
gratulatory Letter  from  the  Emperor  of  Germany 961 


I. 

MOMENTOUS  POLITICAL  EVENTS  OF  ABSORBING  INTEREST. 


1776. — Declaration  of  American  Independence. 
Birth  of  the  Nation. 

1785. — First  Minister  From  the  United  States  to  England. 
John  Adams  and   Old  King  George  Face  to  Face. 

1786. — Shays's  Rebellion  in  Massachusetts. 

Armed  Defiance  of  State  and  Federal  Laws. 

1787. — Formation  and  Adoption  op  the  Federal  Constitution. 
The  United  States  no  longer  an  Unorganized  Nation. 

1789. — Election  and  Inauguration    of  a  President  of  the   United   States. 
Unanimous  Choice  of  George  Washington. 

1794. — The  Famous  Whiskey  Insurrection  in  Pennsylvania. 

Resistance  to  the  United  States  Excise  Tax. 

1799. — Founding  of  Washington  City,  The  National  Capital. 
Establishment  of  the  Government  in  that  City. 

1806. — Conspiracy  and  Trial  of  Aaron  Burr. 
His  Scheme  of  Conquest  and  Empire. 

1826. — Fiftieth  Anniversary  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence. 
A  Jubilee  throughout  the  Land. 

1826.— Death  of  Ex-Presidents  John  Adams  and  Thomas  Jefferson, 
On  the  Fourth  of  July,  the  Nation's  Half- Centenary. 
4 


50  TOPICAL  OK  CL.VvUKIl^J  LLSI\ 

1830. Tiil:  '•  G:m:at  Dkisati:  "  ijetweex  Sexatous  Weusteu  and  Hayne. 

Kiwic.b  ii.6  '' titJ  Buitlc  of  tho  Giants: 

18;52. XuLLiFi(ATT(>%'  Ojti;::eak  ix  South  Carolixa,  undeh  Calhoux,  McDuf- 

FIK,    AX  I)    OtIIEUS. 

Tke  Wratli  of  Fi-esldent  Jackson  Aroused. 

1836. — Struggle  fok  the  Right  of  Petitiox  ix  Coxgress. 

JoJm  Quliic.ij  AduDis's  Eleven  Days'  Dramailo  Conflict,  Single- Handed. 

1837. — Passage  of  the  Famous  Expungixg  Resolutiox,  ix-^  the  Uxited  States 
Sex  ATE. 
3Iemorable  Padianientary  Scene  at  Midniglit 

1842. — Reue'^liox  ix  Rhode  Islax'^d,  uxdeu  Thomas  W.  Dorr. 
Popidar  Suffrage  and  Political  Equality  Demanded. 

1844. — Axti-Rext  or  "  Barx-Burxixg  "  Agitatiox  in  New  York. 
Terrible  Violence  by  Persons  Disguised  as  Indians. 

1851. — Reigx  of  the  Vigilaxce  Committee  ix'  California. 
Sudden  Seizure  and  Punishment  of  Criminals. 

1852. — Expedition  to  Japax',  uxder  Commodore  Perry. 

TJie  Ports  (f  that  Empire  Unsealed  to  America. 

1859. — JoHX  Rrown  at  Harper's  Ferp.y. 

A  Bold  Scheme  to  Free  the  Slaves. 

I860. — Grand  Embassy  FjRom  the  Empire  of  Japan. 
First  Ambassadors  Ever  Sent  From,  that  Country. 

1863. — Championship    of    America's    Cause    ix    Exgland,    by    Henry    Ward 
Beecher. 
Jfe  Wrestles,  Victoriously,  ivith  Vast  and  Tamultuous  Mobs. 

1863. — Proclamation  of  Emax'cipation. 

Pronounced,by  President  Lincoln,  ^'the  Great  Event  of  the  Nineteenth   Cen- 
tury.''^ 

1865. — Assassination  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  President  of  the  United  States. 
Universal  Wail  of  Anguish  and  Lainentation. 

1870. EXFRANCHISEMEXT,     BY     CoXSTITUTIONAL     AMENDMENT,     OP    THE     CoLORKD 

Race. 

Equality  of  All  Men  before  the  T,av\ 

1872. — The  Grange  Movemext  at  the  West. 

Popular  Organizations  in  the  Interests  of  Labor. 

1876. OXE   HUXDREDTH    BiRTHDAY    OF    THE    AmERICAX    REPUBLIC. 

Universal  Jubilee  throughout  the  Land. 


TOPICAL  UU  CLASSIFIED  LIST.  51 


IT. 

BATTLES,   SIEGES,   mSUREECTIOXS,   AND  OTHER  MILITARY 

OCCURRENCES. 

1777. — Capitulation  of  General  Bukgoyne  to  General  Gates. 
First  Royal  Army  Ever  Surrendered  to  Americans. 

1780. — Treason  of  Benedict  Arnold. 

Plot  to  Deliver  West  Point  to  the  British. 

1781. — Surrender  of  Lord  Cornwallis  to  General  Washington. 
Final  Catastrophe  to  British  Arms  in  America. 

1783. — Adieu  to  the  Army  by  General  Washington. 

Jiesif/ns  his  Great  Commission  and  Returns  his  Sword  to  Congress. 

1786. — First  0r(;anized  Rebellion  in  the  United  States. 
Led  by  Daniel  Shays,  of  Massachusetts. 

1791. — Greatest  Battles  with  the  Indians. 

St.  Claires  Defeat :    Wayyie's  Victory. 

1794. — Whiskey  Insurrection  in  Pennsylvania. 

Subdued  by  General  Henry  Lee. 

1803. — Chastisement  of  the  Barbary  Powers. 

Humiliation  of  Morocco^  Algiers,  Tunis,  and  Tripoli. 

180G. — Burr's  Military  Expedition  to  the  South-West. 
His  Schemes  of  Conquest  and  Empire. 

3813. — Harrison's  Victory  at  the  Battle  of  the  Thames. 

Death  of  Tecumseh. 

1814. — Conquest  and  Burning  of  Washington,  by  the  British. 

Flight  of  President  Madison. 

1815. — Jackson's  Terrible  Rout  of  the  British  at  New  Orleans. 
Sudden  and  Decisive  Close  of  the  War. 

1842. — Rebellion  in  Rhode  Island,  under  Thomas  W.  Dorr. 
The  Two  Great  Political  Parties  Arm  and  Take  the  Field. 

1847. — General  Taylor's  Victorious  Campaign  in  Mexico. 
Palo  Alto,  Resaca  de  la  Palma,  Buena   Vista,  Etc. 

1847. — General  Scott  in  the  Halls  of  the  Montezumas. 

First  Foreign  Capital  Eoer  Occupied  by  a  United  States  Army. 


52  TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST. 

1859. — JoHX  Brown's  Setzuke  of  Hahpek's  Ferry. 
His  Cdptuve,  Trial,  cuul  Execution. 

1861. — Bombakdmext  axd  Reductigx  of  Fort  Sumter. 

Inauguration  of  the  Great  Civil  War  in  the  United  States. 

1861. — Disastrous  Defeat  of  the  Uniox  Army,  at  Bull  Run,  Va. 
First  Important  Engagement  in  the  War  of  the  Hebellion. 

1862. — Battle  of  Axtietam,  Md. 

Bloodiest  Dag  Ever  Known  in  America. 

1863. — Surrexder  of  Vicksburg,  "  the  Gibraltar  of  the  Mississippi." 

37,000  Frisoiicrs,  15  Generals,  and  Arms  for  60,000  Men,  the  TrojJhies. 

1863. — Three  Days'  Battle  at  Gettysburg,  Pa. 

A  Decisive  Union  Victory,  of  Supreme  Importance. 

1864. — Shermax's  jVIarch  Through  the  Heart  of  the  South. 
Displag  of  Military  Genius  Unsiupassed  in  any  Age. 

1865. — Fall    of    Richmoxd,  axd    Surrexder    of    Gexeral    Lee    to    General 
Graxt. 

Overthrow  of  the  Four  Years'  Gigantic  Rebellion. 

1865. — Re-possession  of  Fort  Sumter. 

The  Old  Flag  Raised  Again  on  its  Battlements, 


III. 
BRILLIANT  NAVAL  ENGAGEMENTS  AND  HEROIC  EXPLOITS. 

1779. — Capture  of  the  Ship-of-War  Ser.^pis,  by  John  Paul  Jones. 
First  American  Naval  Victory. 

1804. — Bombardment  of  Tripoli. 

The  Proud  Corsair  Flag  Strikes  to  the  Stars  and  Strij'tes. 

1812. — Fight   between  the  Frigates  Coxstitutiox  and  Guerrierk. 
The  British  Colors  Struck  to  "  Old  Ironsides.''^ 

1812. — Wonderful   Escape   of    the  Frigate  Constitution   from   a  British 
Fleet. 

Splendid  Naval  Tactics  of  the  Americans. 

1813. — Perry's  Victory  on  Lake  Erie. 

First  Siiuadron  Fight  between  England  and  America. 


TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST.  53 

1814. — McDoxough's  Victory  ox  Lake  Champlaix. 

Seventeen  British  Eiisigiis  Disappear  in  Two  Hours. 

18G2. — Extraordinary  Combat  between  the  Merrimac  and  Monitor. 
Total  Revolution  in  Naval  Warfare. 

t8G4. — Engagement  between  the  Kearsarge  and  Alabama. 

Sinking  of  the  Alabama  after  a  Brilliant  Contest  of  One  Hour. 

18G4. — Heroic  Achievemexts  of  Admirals  Farragut  and  Porter. 
New  Orleans  and  Mobile  the  Scenes  of  their  Exploits. 

1865. — Brilliant  Capture    of   Fort   Fisher,  N.  C,  by  Admiral   Porter  and 
General  Terry. 

Pronounced,  by  Gen.  Grant,  one  of  the  Great  Successes  that  Ended  the  War. 


IV. 

SUPERB    ACHIEVEMENTS    OF    ORATORY. 

1830. — The    Great    Debate    between   Webster    and    Hayne,  in    the  United 
States  Senate. 

Known  as  "  The  Battle  of  The  Giants." 

1836. — Struggle  for  the  Right  op  Petition  in  Congress. 

John  Quincy  Adams's  Dramatic  Contest,  Single- Handed,  for  Eleven  Days. 

1863. — Championship  of  America's  Cause  in  England,  by  Henry  Ward  Beecher. 
He  Wrestles,  Victoriously,  with  Vast  and  Tumultuous  Hobs. 


CELEBRATED   CRIMINAL   CASES   AND    TRIALS,    TRAGEDIES,    MUTI- 
NIES, DUELS,  CONSPIRACIES,  Etc. 

1780. — Treason  of  Benedict  Arnold. 

Darkest  Deed  of  Infamy  during  the  Revolutionary   War. 

1804.^rATAL  Duel  between  Vice-PresideInt  Burr  and  Alexander  Hamilton. 
Hamilton  Falls,  Mortally  Wounded. 

1806. — Aaron  Burr's  Trial  for  High  TREAsoiif. 
August  Judicial  Sceyie. 

1826. — Duel  between  Henry  Clay  and  John  RANDOLfH. 
Two  Shots,  and  a  Reconciliation. 


51  TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST. 

1831. — Capture  axd  Execution  of  Gibbs,  the  Noted  Piuate. 

Known  as  '•'■the  Scourge  of  the  Ocean^'  and  tlte  Enennj  of  Mankind. 

1835. — Attempt   to  Assassinate  President  Jackson   in   the   United   States 
Capitol. 
The  Perpetrator,  Richard  Lawrence,  Proves  to  he  a  Lunatic. 

1836. — Trial   of   Richard   P.  Robinson,  for    the    Murder    of    Miss    Helen 
Jewett,  of  New  York. 
Tli6  Victim  a  Notedly-Beautiful  Courtesan. 

1838. — Barbarous    Duel    between    Hons.  W.  J.  Graves   and  Jonathan  Cil- 
ley,  Members  op  Concjress. 
alley  Slain  at  the  Third  Firing. 

1841. — Cold-Blooded   Murder   of  Samuel  Adams  by  John  C.  Colt,  in  New 
York. 

One  of  the  Most  Celebrated  of  Modern  Crimes. 

1842. — Mutiny  on  Board  the  United  States   Brig-of-War  Somers. 
Hanging  of  Spencer  and  Other  Ringleaders  from  the  Yard-arm. 

1844. — Trial  and  Degradation  of  Bishops  B.  T.  and  H.  U.  Onderdonk,  for 
Immorality. 

No  Parallel  Case  in  the  Christian  Churcli,  since  the  Reformation. 

1849. — Astor  Place  Opera-House  Riots,  New  York. 

Feud  between  the  Two  Great  Tragedians,  Forrest  and  Macready. 

1849. — Murder    of   Dr.  George  Parkman,  a  Boston    Millionaire,  by   Prof. 
J.  W.  Webster,  of  Harvard  College. 

Intense  Interest  in  this  Case,  in  both  Hemispheres. 

1851. — Reign  of  the  Vigilance  Committee  in  California. 
Swift  and  Terrible  Dealings  with  Criminals. 

1856. — Assault   on    Hon.  Charles    Sumner,  in    the   United    States    Senate 
Chamber,  by  P.  S.  Brooks. 

Twenty  Hard  and  Rapid  Blows  on  the  Senatoi'^s  Bare  Head. 

1857. — Shocking  and  Mysterious  Murder  of  Dr.  H.  Burdell,  of  New  York. 
Trial  of  Mrs.  Cunningham  :  a  Drama  of  Horrors. 

1858. — Revolting  Prize  Fight  between  John  Morrissey  and  John  C.  Heenan. 
Morrissey  the  Victor — His  Triumphant  Flection  to  Congress. 

1859. — Homicide  of  Hon.  P.  B.  Key  by  Hon.  D.  E.  Sickles,  M.  C,  in  Wash- 
ington. 

Seduction  of  Mrs.  Sickles  by  Mr.  Key  :  Trial  and  Acquittal  of  Sickles. 


TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LUrr.  53 

185;). — Fatal  Duel  betwekx  Hox.  D.  C.  Ukodekick,  United  States   Se.natok 

FROM    CaLIKOUNIA,  AND    ChIEF    JuSTICE    TeKKY. 

Broderlck  Mortally  Wounded  ;  His  Speedy  Death. 

1860. — Walker's  Fillibustekixg  Expeditions. 
His  Retreat,  Capture,  and  Execution. 

1865. — Assassination  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  President  of  the  United  States. 
The  Most  Exalted  and  Beloved  of  Mortal  Rulers. 

1865. — Trial  of  the  Assassination  Conspirators. 
Their  Swift  and  Awful  Doom. 

1875. — Trial  of  Rev.   Henry  Ward  Beecher  for  Alleged  Adultery. 

Charyed  by  Theodore  Tilton  to  have  been  Coynmitted  with  Mrs.  Tilton. 


VL 

WONDERFUL  PHENOMENA  OF  THE  EARTH,  OCEAN,  AND  HEAVENS. 

1780. — Mysterious  Dark  Day  in  the  Northern   States. 
The  End  of  the  World  Supjposed  to  be  at  Hand^ 

1806. — Greatest  Total  Solar  Eclipse  Ever  KnoWn. 
Five  Minutes  Total  Obscuration  at  Noonday >. 

1811. — Desolating  Earthquake  at  the  West. 

All  Over  the  Mississippi  to  the  Atlantic  Coast. 

1815. — The  Ever-Memorable  September  Gale. 

Unparalleled  Since  the  Settlement  of  the  Country. 

1833. — Sublime  Meteoric  Shower  all  Over  the  United  States. 
The  Whole  Firmament  in  Fiery  Commotion  for  Several  Hours. 

1837. — Magnificent  Aurora  Borealis  Covering  the  Whole  Heavens. 

Visible  All  Night  to  Millions  of  Observers. 

1843. — Appearance  of  a  Fiery  Comet  at  Mid-Day. 

It  Sweeps  through  the  Sky,  in  Plain  Sight,  for  Several  Weeks. 

1851. — ^VisiT  of  the   Marine   Monster,  Called   the  Sea-Serpent,    along  the 
Atlantic  Coast. 

Accounts  Given  by  Eye-  Witnesses. 

1868. — Disastrous  Earthquakes  in  California. 

Lives  Lost  and  Property  Destroyed,  in  '65  and  '68. 


56  TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST. 

3869. — Total  Eclipse  of  the  Sun. 

Most  Interesting  and  Importayit  Observations  of  the  PJienomenon  Ever  Made, 


VII. 

EXTRAORDINARY  DISCOVERIES  AND  INVENTIONS,  SCIENTIFIC  EX- 
PEDITIONS, AND  THE  SPLENDID  TRIUMPHS  OF  MECHANICAL 
GENIUS. 

1793. — Whitney's  Great  Cotton-Gin  Invention. 

Revolution  in  the  Prospects  and  Power  of  the  South. 

1807. — Fulton's  Application  of  Steam  to  Navigation. 
First  Steam-boat  Voyage  on  American  Waters. 

1835. — Morse's  Invention  of  the  Electric  Telegraph. 
The  Scientiftc  Miracle  of  the  Age. 

1838. — Exploring  Expedition  to  the  South  Seas,  under  Commodore  Wilkes. 
Discovery  of  the  Great  Antarctic  Continent. 

1842. — Fremont's  Exploration  of  the  Far  North-West. 

Plants  the  American  Flag  on  the  Highest  Peak  of  the  Rocky  3Iountains. 

1846. — Discovery  of  Painless  Surgery  by  the  Inhalation  of  Ether. 
Most  Beneficent  Boon  to  Humanity  Ever  Conferred  by  Science. 

1846. — Invention  of  that  Wondrous  Mechanism,  the  Sewing  Machine. 
Romantic  Genius  and  Perseverance  of  the  Inventor. 

1847. — Expedition  to  the  Jordan  and  Dead  Sea,  under  Lieutenant  Lynch. 

The  "  Sea  of  Death  "  Explored,  Sounded,  and  its  Mysteries  Solved. 

1848. — Discovery  of  Gold  at  Sutter's  Mill,  California. 
California  Becomes  the  El  Dorado  of  the  World. 

1850. — Grinnell  Expeditions  to  the  Arctic  Seas. 
Doctor  Kane  Discovers  an  Open  Polar  Sea. 

1851. — Victory  of  the  Yacht  America,  in  the  International  Race  at  Cowes. 

She  Wins  "  The  Cup  of  all  Nations.^' 

1852. — Expedition  to  Japan,  under  Commodore  Perry. 
Opening  of  that  Empire   to  American  Intercourse. 

1853. — Exhibition  of  the  Industry  of  all  Nations,  in  New  York. 
Splendid  Display  of  the  Arts  and  Treasures  of  Civilization. 


TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST.  57 

1859. — Petroleum  Excitement  in  Pennsylvania. 

Discovery  of  Vast   Quantities  of   Illuininating   Oil   in  the  Deptlis  of  the 
Earth. 

ISOO. — Exhibition,  in  New  York,  of  the  Mammoth  Steamship  Great  Eastern. 
Largest  Vessel  Ever  Built. 

1863. — Inauguration  of  the  Great  Organ  in  Boston. 
Most  Majestic  and  Perfect  Instrument  in  America. 

1866. — Successful  Laying  of  the  Atlantic  Telegraph  Cable. 
The  Grandest  of  Human  Enterprises. 

1869. — Completion  and  Opening  of  the  Pacific  Eailroad. 
Junction  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Oceans. 


VIII. 

eemarkable  PvEforms,  delusions,  and  excitements,  in  the 

MORAL    AND    RELIGIOUS    WORLD,   Etc. 

1830. — Pounding  of  the  Mormon  Church  by  Joseph  Smith. 
Origin,  Character,  and  Progress. 

1840. — "  Washingtonian  "  or  Temperance  Eeformation. 
Career  of  Hawkins,  Mitchell,  Gough,  and  Others. 

1843. — Expected  Destruction  of  the  World. 

Rev.  William  Millei^'s  Second  Advent  Predictions. 

1844. — Degradation  of  Bishops  B,  T.  and  H.  U.  Onderdonk  from  the  Epis- 
copacy, FOR  Immoralities. 
No  Parallel  Case  in  the  Christian  Church,  since  the  Reformation. 

1847. — The  Phenomena  of  "  Spiritual  Manifestations." 

Singular  and  Humble  Origin,  and  World-wide  Development. 

1847. — Voyage   of   the  United  States  Ship-of-War  Jamestown,  with  Food 
FOR  Ireland. 
First  War  Vessel  Ever  Sent  on  Such  a  Mission  of  Mercy. 

1849. — ^Visit  OF  Father  Mathew,  the  Apostle  of  Temperance. 
His  600,000  American  Converts  to  Total  Abstinence. 

1857. — The  "  Great  Awakening  "  in  the  Religious  World. 
Known  as  the  American  Pentecost. 


68  TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST. 

18G3. — Pkoclamatiox  of  Emancipatiox  to  the  Slaves. 
Millions  of  Slaves  Declared  to  be  Forecer  Free. 

1875. — Trial  of  Rev.  Hexuy  Wakd  Beechek  for  Alleged  Adultery. 

Charged  by  Theodore  Tilton  to  have  been  Committed  with  Mrs.  Tilton. 

1875-6. — The  Popular  Revival  Movement  under  Messrs.  Moody  axd  Sanke: 
Great  Success  of  these  Earnest  and  Devoted  Evangelists. 


IX. 

POPULAR  OVATIONS,  NATI0:N^AL    JUBILEES,  PAGEANTS,  FEATS,  Etc. 

1824. — Farewell  Visit  of  Lafayette  to  America. 
The  Invited  Guest  of  a  Grateful  ReiJuhlic. 

1826. — Celebration  of  the  Fiftieth  Anniversary  of  American  Independence. 

Sudden  Death  of  Ex-Presidents  Adams  and  Jefferson,   on  the  Day  of  the 
Jubilee. 

1849. — Tour  of  Father  Mathew,  the  Apostle  of  Temperance. 
A  Joyous  Welcome  Extended  Him,  Throughout  the  Land. 

1850. — Brilliant  Musical  Tour  of  Jenny  Lind. 

A  Whole  Continent  Enchanted  with  Her  Melodies. 

1851. — Reception  of  Gov.  Kossuth,  of  Hungary. 
Enthusiastic  and  Multiplied  Ovations. 

1858. — Morphy's  Marvelous  Chess  Triumphs. 

Vanquishes  the  Most  Renowned  Players  in  Europe  and  America. 

1860. — Grand  Embassy  from  the  Empire  of  Japan. 

Curious  and  Extraordinary  Tour  to  the  Great  Cities. 

1860. — Arrival  and  Tour  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  England's  Future  King. 
Received  with  Magnificent  Honors  and  Hospitalities,  as  the  Nation^s  Guest. 

1861. — Rarey's  Astonishing  Feats  of  Horse-Taming. 

Wonder  and  Admiration  from  Croivded  Audiences. 

1863. — Inauguration  of  the  Colossal  Organ  in  Boston. 
The  Masterpiece  of  Modern  Musical  Art. 

1869. — National  Peace  Jubilee  and  Musical  Festival. 

Ten  Thousand  Singers,  and  an  Orchestra  of  One  Thousand  Players. 

1871. — Journey  over  the  Land,  of  the  Duke  Alexis,  of  Russia. 
Son  of  the  Emperor  Alexander. 


TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST.  L'J 

1874. — Visit  of  King  Kalakaua,  of  the  Saxdwicii  I.slaxus. 

First  instance  of  a  Relgalng  Crowned  Head  enterimj  the  United  States. 

1876. — OxE  Hundredth  Birthday  of  the  American  Republic. 
Universal  Jubilee  TJirowjhout  the  Land. 


X. 

APPALLING  PUBLIC  CALAMITIES,  DISASTERS,  PANICS,  Etc. 

1799. — Death    of    George   Wa.shington,    the   Father    of    his    Country,    and 
America'.s  Most  Illustrious  Citizen. 

The  Whole  World  Does  Honor,  by  Eulor/y  and  Lamentations,  to  His  Exalted 
Worth  and  Immortal  Fame. 

1811. — Desolating  Earthquake  at  the  West. 
All  Along  the  Valley  of  the  Mississippi. 

1815. — The  Ever-Memorable  September  Gale. 

Unparalleled  Since  the  Settlement  of  the  Country. 

1835. — Tremendous  Fire  in  New  York,  in  the  Richest  Locality  in  America. 
700  Richly  Filled  Warehouses  laid  in  Ashes,  in  the  Dead  of  Winter. 

1844. — Explosion  on  Board  the  United  States  Steamer  Princeton. 
The  Secretaries  of  State  and  the  Naoy  Listantly  Killed. 

1849. — Astor-Place  Opera-House  Riots,  New  York. 
A  Mob  of  20,000  Men :  Lamentable  Loss  of  Life. 

1849. — Awful  Visitations  of  the  "Angel  of  Death." 

Yellow  Fever  and  CJcolera  Scourges,  at  Different  Periods. 

1851. — Frightful  Panic  in  a  N.  Y.  School  of  Eighteen  Hundred  Pupils. 
Scores  of  Children  Suffocated  to  Death. 

1854. — Loss  of  the  Splendid  Collins  Steamship  Arctic. 

Collision  with  Steamer  Vesta,  in  Mid-Ocean,  at  Noonday,  in  a  Dense  Fog. 

1857. — Foundering  of  the  Steamer  Central  America. 

More  than  400  Lives  Lost,  and  f  2,000,000  in  Treasure. 

1857. — Terrible  Crisis  in  the  Business  and  Financial  W^orld. 
Known  as  "  the  Great  Panic." 

1858. — Burning  of  the  Steamship  Austria. 
Nearly  500  Lives  Lost. 


60  TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST. 

I860. — Fall  of  the  Pemberton  Mills,  ix  Lawrence,  Mass. 
Nearlij  1,000  Persons  Buried  in  the  Ruins. 

18G5. — Assassination  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  President  of  the  United  States. 
Darkest  Page  in  the  History  of  the  Nation. 

1868. — Disastrous  Earthquake  in  California. 

Severe  and  Repeated  Shocks  Over  a  Wide  Extent. 

1869. — AvoNDALE  Colliery  Disaster,  in  Pennsylvania. 

More  titan  100  Suffocated  in  the  Mines. 

1871. — Burning  of  Chicago,  III.,  the  Commercial  Metropolis  of  the  North- 
AVest. 

73  Miles  of  Streets,  with  17,450  Buildings,  Destroyed. 

1872; — Terrible  Fire  in  the  Business  Heart  of  Boston. 

The  Great  Financial  and  Mercantde  Center  of  Neiv  Eiigland  Consumed. 


no.  subject.  page. 

1.  Illustrated   Gilt  and    Coloeed   Title- 

Page. 

2.  Signing  the  Declaration  of   Independ- 

ence (Frontispiece). 

3.  Glory  of  the  American  Century,       -       -       -  7 

4.  The  Opened  Pages,      ,       -       -       »       -       -  15 

5.  The  Kecord  of  Time,   ,,.----  17 

6.  Symbolical  Head-piece,      -       »       -       .       -  49 

7.  Genius  of  Art, --61 

8.  Ringing  of  the  Bell,  July  4th,  1776,    -       -       -  65 

9.  Hall  of  Independence,  Philadelphia,  1776,       -  67 

10.  Gates's  Head-quarters,       -----  72 

11.  General  Burgoyne ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  74 

12.  G&neTA\GaXiQ»\  Portrait  and  Autograph,         -  74 

13.  Capitulation  of  Burgoyne's  Army,  -       -  77 

14.  Hoisting  First  Naval  Flag, 81 

15.  John  Paul  Jones ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -  83 

16.  First  American  Naval  Victory,        -       -  84 

17.  Wonderful  Dark  Pay,  May  19, 1780,  -       -  88 

18.  Traveling  during  the  Darli  Day,        _       -        -  89 

19.  Change  of  Scene  after  the  Dark  Day,        -       -  93 
go.  Price  of  Arnold's  Treason,        -       -        -        -  97 

21.  Capture  of  Andre,       ------  99 

22.  Benedict  Arnold ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      -  100 

23.  West  Point  in  1780, 101 

24.  General  Amold's  Head-quarters,      .       -       -  102 

25.  The  House  where  Cornwallis  Surrendered,      -  104 

26.  Cornwallis's  Surrender,    -       -       -       -  106 

27.  Cornwallis ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,        -       -  110 

28.  Washington's  Sword, 112 

29.  The  Washington  Elm,  Cambridge,  Mass.,         -  114 

30.  Washington's  Resignation,         -       -       -  115 

31.  Aniity  between  England  and  America,      -        -  119 

32.  George  the  Third ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -  IgO 
S3.  First  Minister  to  England,— Reception 

of  .John  Adams,  ------  122 

34.  Juhn  Adams;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -        -  i'23 


NO. 

35. 
36. 
37. 
38. 
39. 
40. 
41. 
42. 
43. 
44. 
45, 
46. 
47. 
48. 
49. 
60. 
51. 
52. 
53. 
64. 

65. 
56. 
57. 
58. 
59. 
60. 

61. 
62. 
63. 
64. 
65. 

66. 
67. 
68. 


sub.iect.  pagb 

Scene  in  Shays's  Rebellion,        _        -       -       .  125 

Shays's  Forces  in  Massachusetts,    -       -  127 

Daniel  Shays;  Portrait  and  Autograph,   -       -  128 

GeneridlAncoln;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      -  130 

Enrolling  the  Constitution,         -        .       -       .  132 

Convention  at  Philadelphia,  1787,  -       -  134 

Franklin  Pleading  for  Pacification,  -       -       -  136 

Washington's  Inauguration  Bible,    -       -       -  139 

First  Inauguration  of  a  President,      -  141 

Presidential  Mansion,  1789,        -        -       -       -  143 

Presidential  Mansion,  1878,        -       -       -       -  143 

Treating  with  the  Indians,  -----  146 

Wayne's  Defeat  of  the  Indians,     -       -  148 

Anthony  Wayne;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -  150 

GenevRl  St.  Clan ;  Po7-trail  and  Autograph,     -  151 

"  Little  Turtle ";  PoWrai«,         -       -       -       -  152 

Results  of  the  Cotton-Gin,         -        -        -       -  153 

Eli  Whitney's  Cotton-Gin,  1793,        -       -  155 
'Eli  Wliitney;  Porti-ait  and  Aulogro/)h,     -       -  157 
Causes  of  the  Whiskey  Insurrection  in  Penn- 
sylvania,  --------  ICO 

Famous  Whiskey  Insurrection  in  Pennsylvania,  161 

David  Bnadford ;  Portrait,         -       -       -       -  104 

General  Henry  Lee;  Portrait,  -        -       -       -  166 

Washington,  D.  C,  in  1876,     -       -       -       -  "1 

National  Capitol  in  1876, 172 

Symbolic  Statue  of  America,  Surmounting  the 

U.  S.  Capitol, 1'2 

Martha  Washington  ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  175 

Death  of  Washington,  December  14, 1799,  177 

George  Washington,  as  Colonel,        -       -        -  178 

George  Washington,  General  U.  S.  A.,      -        -  1'^ 
George  Washington,  President  of  the  United 

States;  Portrait  mid  Autograph,    -        -        -  1T9 

Tomb  of  Wrtshiimton, 1^0 

U.  S.  Tribute  to  |{.irli;iry.    -----  182 

CoravaoOLOreT»Ale;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -  183 


Gl] 


ILLUSTKATIONS. 


NO.  SUBJECT.                                            PAGE. 

C:).  Commodore  Preble ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  184 

70.  Commodore  Bainbridge  ;  Portrait  and  Auto- 

graph,     --------  184 

71.  Burning  of  the  Philadelphia,  -       -        -       -  185 

72.  Commodore    Decatur  ;    Portrait  and   Auto- 

graph,      --------  186 

73.  Bombardment  of  Tripoli,  -       -       -       -  187 

74.  Monument  to  Alexander  Hamilton,        -        -  189 

75.  Alexander  Hamilton ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  190 

76.  AATOn  Ban- ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -       -  190 

77.  Scene  of  the  Bdre  and  Hamilton  Duel, 

Weehawken,       ------  193 

78.  Total  Solar  Eclipse,  in  1806,     -       -       -  197 

79.  Progress  of  the  Solar  Eclipse,  -       -       -       -  198 

80.  Total  Eclipse,  in  1869, 199 

61.  Eclipse,  as  seen  in  Brazil,        -        -        -       -  202 

82.  Burr's  Flight, 204 

83.  Breaking  up  of  Burr's  Expedition,      -  208 

81.  Burr  and  His  Deluded  Followers,     -       -       -  208 

85.  Theodosia ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,       -       -  210 

86.  First  Steam  boat  on  the  Hudson,    -        -       -  212 

87.  Robert  Fulton ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,        -  213 

88.  Fulton's  First  Steam  boat,       -       -       -  215 

89.  After  the  Earthquake,      -----  218 

90.  Scene  of  the  Great  Earthquake  in  the  "West,  220 

91.  Earthquake  Scene  in  San  Francisco,   -  223 

92.  Captain  Hull;  Portrait, 227 

93.  Action  between  tije  Frigates  Consti- 

tution AND  Guerriere,  -       -       -       -  230 

91.  Perry's  Flag  on  Lake  Erie,       -       -       -       -  234 

95.  Commodore  Perry;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  236 

96.  Battle  of  Lake  Erie,— Perry's  Victory,  238 

97.  General  Harrison ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  241 

98.  A  Cloud  on  the  National  Escutcheon,      -       -  242 

99.  General  Winder ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -  244 

100.  President  Madison ;  Portrait,  -       -       -       -  246 

101.  Capture  and  Burning  of  Washington 

BV  THE  British,  in  1814,   -       -       -       -  247 

102.  Jack's  Offering  to  his  Country,         -        -        -  250 
105.  Commodore  McDonough;  Portrait,         -       -  251 

104.  McDonougu's  Victory  on  Lake  Cham- 

plain,    --------  254 

105.  American  Defenses  at  New  Orleans,        -       -  257 

106.  Andrew  Jackson  ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -  260 

107.  Battle   of    New    Orleans,—  Jackson's 

Terrific  Slaughter  of  the  British,  262 

108.  Destruction  by  the  Great  Gale  and  Flood,       -  264 

109.  The   Ever-Memorable    Gale,   September   23, 

1815, 266 

110.  Horrors  of  the  Whirlwind  throughout  New 

England, -        -  2G9 

111.  The  Landing  of  Lafayette  at  New  York,          -  272 

112.  Lafayette;  Portrait  and  Autograph,        -       -  274 

113.  Sword  of   Honor  Presented  to   Lafayette,    -  276 

114.  Lafayette's  Kesidence,       -----  277 

115.  Lafayette's  Birthplace,     -----  279 

116.  Lafayette's  Tomb,      ------  281 

117.  Preliminaries  of  the  Code  of  Honor,        -        -  282 

118.  Henry  Clay;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -        -  284 

119.  John  Randolph;  Portrait  a7ul  Autograph,      -  286 

120.  Dueling-Ground  at  Bladensburg,         -  288 

121.  The  Jefferson  Mansion  at  Monticello,      -       -  292 

122.  Thomas  Jefferson ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  294 

123.  The  Adams  Mansion  at  Quincy,       -       -       -  296 

124.  The  Victor's  Wreath, 297 

125.  Robert  Y.  Hayne ;  Portrait,      -       -        -        -  299 

126.  Daniel  Webster;  Portrait,        -       -       -       -  301 

127.  Webster's  Reply  in  Hayne,        -       -       -        -  r?04 

128.  Joseph  Smith;  Portrait  and  Autograph,         -  .308 

129.  Brigham  Young;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -  310 

130.  Mormon  Temple,       ------  312 

131.  Salt  Lake  City,  the  Mormon  Zion,        -  313 


NO.  SUBJECT.  PAGE. 

132.  Appeal  of  a  Beautiful  Girl  to  Gibbs  to  Spare 

her  Life,  --------  314 

133.  Pirate  Gibbs ;  Por/rai^     -----  316 

134.  GiBBS  Butchering  the  Crew  of  one  of 

his  Prizes,   -------  313 

135.  Favorite  State  Emblem,  S.  C,  -        -        -        -  320 

136.  Old  State-House  at  Columbia,  -        -        -        -  822 

137.  George  McDuffie ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -  324 

138.  J.  C.  Calhoun ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,         -  326 

139.  Meteoric  Shower  at  Boston,  -       -       -  329 

140.  Meteoric  Shower,  as  seen  at  Niagara  Falls,    -  331 

141.  Remarkable  Meteoric  Display  on  the  Missis- 

sippi,      --- 334 

142.  The  Preservation, 33t;^ 

143.  Attempted  Assassination  of  President 

Jackson,       -------  339 

144.  Richard  Lawrence ;  Portrait,  -       -       -       -  341 

145.  Hanging  the  Telegraph  Wire,  -        -       -        -  345 

146.  The  Original  Telegraphic  Instrument,  317 

147.  TrofessoiMorse;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -  349 

148.  Orders   of    Glory    Conferred   on    Professor 

Morse,     --------  351 

149.  View  of  Wall  Street  during  the  Fire,      -       -  355 

150.  The  Great  Conflagration,  as  Viewed 

from  Coenties  Slip,         -       -       -       -  357 

151.  Ruins  of  the  Merchants'  Exchange,         -       -  360 

152.  Monster  Petition  to  Congress,  -        -       -        -  362 

153.  John  Quincy  Adams;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  364 

154.  John    Quincy    Adams    Defending    the 

Right  of  Pt.TiTioN  in  Congress,  -       -  368 

155.  Safe  place  for  the  Key  to  the  Public  Funds,  -  373 

156.  Thomas  H.  Benton ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  375 

157.  Fac  Simile  Copy  of  Expunging  Resolution,     -  377 

158.  Singular  Form  of  Auroral  Arch,     -        -        -  379 

159.  Magnificent  Aurora   Borealis  of  No- 

vember 13  AND  14,  1837,       -       -        -        -  381 

160.  View   of   the  Aurora  Borealis  in  its   Early 

Stages, 3M 

161.  Captain  Wilkes;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      -  388 

162.  View  of  the  Antarctic  Continent  Dis- 

covered by  Com.  Wilkes,  U.  S.  N.      -  390 

163.  Wilkes's   Party  Dealing  with  the  Savages,  -  392 

164.  Effect  of  the  Temperance  Reformation,  -        -  393 

165.  Signing  the  Pledge,  ------  396 

166.  Distinguished  Temperance  Advocates,  399 

167.  Exploring  the  North-west,        -       -        -        -  402 

168.  Planting  American  Flag  on  the  Rocky  Moun- 

tains, by  Fremont,  -----  404 

169.  John  C.Fremor\t;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  405 

170.  Fremont  on  his  Great  Exploring  Tour  to  the 

Far  West  and  Rocky  Mountains,  -        -        -  406 

171.  Charter  vs.  Constitution,  -----  408 

172.  Thomas 'W.T)orr;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -  410 

173.  Governor  King ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      -  412 

174.  Final    Dispersion    of  Governor  Dorr 

AND  HIS  Forces,  ------  413 

175.  The  Black  Flag, 415 

176.  Captain  McKenzie ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  417 

177.  Philip  Spencer;  Por<rai^  o.7K/.<4«ft)5frapft,       -  419 

178.  Hanging    of    Ringleaders    from    the 

Yard-arm, 421 

179.  View  of  the  Comet  when  Nearest  the  Earth,  -  427 

180.  Appearance    of    the    Comet    in    full 

Splendor,     -------  428 

181.  Telescopic  View  of  the  Comet,         -        -       -  430 

182.  The  Great  Day  Prophesied  by  the  Second  Ad- 

ventists,  --------  431 

183.  Symbolical  Illustrations  of  the  Sec- 

ond Advent  Prophecies,         .       -       -  433 

184.  William  Miller;  Portrait  and  Autograph,       -  437 

185.  Stockton's  Great  Gun,  the   "  Peacemaker,"  -  439 

186.  YresidentTyler;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -  440 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


63 


Ko.  suBJEcrr.  page. 

187.  Secretary  Qilmer;  Portrait  and  AtUograph,   -  442 

188.  Explosion  of  the  Great  Gun  on  Board  the 

United  States  Steamship  Princeton,    -       -  443 

189.  Secret-dry  Uyshar;  J'ortrait  and  Autograph,  -  444 

190.  Commodore    Stockton  ;    Portrait  and  Auto- 

graph,     --------  446 

191.  Trinity  Church,  New  York,     -         -       -       -  4o0 

192.  Bishop  B.  T.  Onderdouk;  Portrait  and  Auto- 

graph,     --------  452 

193.  Bishop  H.  U.  Ouderdonk ;  Portrait  and  Auto- 

graph,     --------  452 

194.  "  It  Stingeth  Like  an  Adder,"  -       -       -       -  455 

195.  Relieving  Pain  by  the  Use  of  Ether,       -       -  456 
li<6.  The   Three   Claimants  of   the  Discovery   of 

Painless  Surgery,  by  Ether,          _       -        -  458 

197.  Monument  Ebected   in  Honor  of  thb 

Discovert  of  Ether,        -       -       .       -  462 

198.  Tlie  Inventor  Toiling  in  His  Garret,         -       -  464 

199.  Eliiis  Howe,  Jr. ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      -  466 

200.  The  Old  and  New:  Sewing  by  Hand  and 

Machine,       -..----  468 

201.  House  in  which  Spiritual  Rappings  Originated,  472 

202.  The  Misses  Fox ;  Portraits,       -       -        -       -  474 

203.  D.  D.  Home ;  Portrait,       -       -       ...  475 

204.  Cora  L.  V.  Hatch ;  Portrait,     -       •       -       -  477 

205.  Spiritual  Autograph  of  Lord  Bacon,        -       -  477 

206.  A.  J.  DA\is;  Portrait,       -----  477 

207.  Judge  Edmonds;  Portrait,       -       -       -       -  477 

208.  Spiritual  Autograph  of  Swedenborg,       -       -  477 

209.  Scene  of  Misery  during  the  Famine,        -       -  479 

210.  Corn  for  the  Land  of  Want  and  Woe,      -        -  482 

211.  Arrival  of  the  Jamestown  at  Cork,    -  484 

212.  Storming  of  Chapultepec,        -       -       -  487 

213.  President  Polk ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,       -  488 

214.  General  Taylor ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,       -  489 

215.  Santa  Anna;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -       -  490 

216.  General  Scott;  Portrait  and  Autograph,         -  491 

217.  General  Scott's  Grand  Entrance  into 

the  Mexican  Capital,     -       -       -       -  492 

218.  Lieutenant  Lynch ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  496 

219.  Valley  of  the  Jordan  and  Dead  Sea,  497 

220.  Right  Bank  of  the  Dead  Sea,    -        -       -       -  498 

221.  Mining  Operations  in  California,      -        .        -  500 

222.  Sutter's  Mill,  where  Gold  was  First 

Discovered  in  1848,    -----  502 

223.  John  A.  Sutter;  Portrait,         -       -       -       -  503 
221.  James  W.  Marshall ;  Portrait,  -        -       -       -  505 

225.  Forrest,  as  Spartacus,        -        -        -       .       -  508 

226.  Edwin  Forrest;  Portrait  and  Autograph,       -  510 

227.  Vf-CMacready;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -  511 

228.  Astob  Place  Opera-House  Riots,    -      -  513 

229.  Struck  with  the  Cholera,  -----  515 

230.  Monument  to  the  Victims  op  Choleea,  517 

231.  Horrors  of  the  Great  Epidemic,       -       -       .  519 

232.  Professor  Webster's  Murder  Appliances,        -  523 

233.  T>octor  PeirkmAn;  Portrait  a7id  Autograph,   -  625 

234.  Vroiesior^ehstet;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  527 

235.  Professor  Webster's  Cell  in  Prison,  -  529 
g36.  Henry  Grinnell ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      -  534 

237.  The  Advance  and  Rescue,         -       -       _       -  536 

238.  Doctor  Kane ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,          -  538 

239.  View  of  the  Arctic  Regions,   -       -       -  539 

240.  Jenny  lj\nd;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  -  543 
211.  P.  T-BArnvLra;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  545 
;J12.  Jenny  Lind's  Appearance  at  Castle  Garden,  -  547 
a^3.  Double  Execution  in  San  Francisco,  -  -  550 
244.  Seal  of  the  California  Vigilance  Committee,  -  552 
J245.  Executions  by  the  Vigilance  Commit- 
tee, IN  San  Francisco,     -       -       .       -  555 

246.  George  Steers ;  Portrait,  -       -       _       .       .  ggo 

247.  Yacht  America;  J.  Q.  SisyENS,  Commo- 

dore,     ------,..562 


NO. 

248. 
249. 

250. 

251. 

252. 

263. 

254. 
256. 

256. 
257. 
258. 

259. 
260. 
261. 


262. 
263. 


264. 
265. 
266. 
267. 
268. 
269. 
270. 
271. 
272. 

273. 
274. 

275. 
276. 
277. 

278. 
279. 
280. 

281 
282. 
283. 

284. 
285. 
286. 

287. 
288. 

289. 
290. 
291. 
292. 
293. 

294. 
295. 
296. 
297. 
298. 
299. 
300. 
301. 


SUBJECT.  PAGE. 

"Cup  of  All  Nations,"  Won  by  the  America,  564 
School-House   on   Greenwich   Avenue,  New 

York,  the  Scene  of  the  Awful  Panic,  -       -  509 
Frightful    Catastrophe  in  a  Public   School- 
House,  New  York,  -       -----  r)71 

Monster  Soa-Serpont  at  Full  Length,    -        -  575 
Appearance  of  the  Huge  Sea-Serpent 

along  the  atlantic  coast,   -      -       -  579 
United    States    Steamer    Mississippi,    Con- 
veying Kossuth,      ------  583 

Governor  Kossuth ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  585 
Grand    Military    Reception    of   Gov- 
ernor Kossuth  in  New  York,      -       -  588 
Treaty  of  Peace,  Amity,  etc.,  -       -       -       -  592 

Commodore  "Perry;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  694 
Naval  Expedition  to  Japan,  under  Com- 
modore M.  C.  Perry,         -       -       -       -  597 

Interior  of  the  World's  Fair,  New  York,        -  600 

Theodore  Sedgwick ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  602 
Crystal  Palace  of  New  York,  fob  the 
Exhibition  of  the  Industries  of  All 

Nations,       --.-...  604 

Steamship  Arctic,      ------  608 

Loss  of  the  Collins  Steamship  Arctic, 
BY    Collision   at    Noonday   in   Mid- 
ocean,    --------612 

Liberty  for  Kansas,    ------  616 

Sensitor  Butler ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,       -  618 

Seu&tor  Sumner;  Portrait  and  Atitograph,     -  620 

Assault  on  Senator  Sumner,  by  P.  S.  Brooks,  622 

Preston  S.  Brooks;  Portrait,    -       -       -       -  623 

Trial  of  Mrs.  Cunningham,       -       -       -        -  626 

Doctor  Burdell;  Portrait,          -       -       -       -  628 

Mrs.  Cunningham;  Portrait,    -       -       -        -  630 

House  in   which    Doctor   Burdell  was  Mur- 
dered,              --632 

Captain  Herndon  on  the  Wheel-house,  -       -  635 
Foundering  of  the  Steamer  Central 

America,       -------  637 

Victims  of  the  Central  America,     -       -       -  639 

Run  on  a  Bank,  -------  644 

Excitement  in  Business  Circles  during 

THE  Great  Panic,    -----  616 

Effects  of  the  Hard  Times,      -       -       -       -  648 

Book  of  Requests  for  Prayers,         .       -       -  653 
Group  of  Eminent  Revival  Preachers,  dur- 
ing the  National  Century    -        -       -       -  657 

Dwight  L.  Moody ;  Portrait,     -       -       -       -  661 

Ira  D.  Sankey ;  Portrait,  -----  661 

Revival    Meeting    in    Brooklyn,  Con- 
ducted by  Messrs.  Moody  and  Sankey,  603 
Morphy's  World-Renowned  Triumphs,  -       -  006 
PaulMorphy;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -       -  668 
Paul   Morphy,   Playing    Eight   Games 

OF  Chess  Without  Seeing  the  Boards,  670 

Escape  from  the  Burning  Steamer,        -        -  673 
Burning    of    the    Steamship,  Austria, 

WITH  Five  Hundred  Souls  on  Board,  675 

Last  View  of  the  Unfortunate  Steamer,        -  678 

Accompaniments  of  the  Prize  Ring,       -       -  681 

John  Morrissey ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      -  683 

J.  C.  Heenan;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -       -  086 
Homicide  of  Hon.  P.  B,  Key,  by  Hon.  D. 

E.  Sickles, -  689 

Philip  Barton  Key;  Portrait,  -       -       -       -  691 

Mrs.  Sickles ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,   -       -  693 

D.  E.  Sickles ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -       -  695 

Petroleum  Wells,       ------  608 

Petroleum  Wells  in  Pennsylvania,  -        -        -  700 

Process  of  Boring  for  Petroleum,    -        -        -  701 

Burning  of  one  of  the  Great  Oil  Wells,  701 

The  Spct  where  Broderick  Fell,     -         -        -  707 


64 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


NO.  SUBJECT.  PAGE. 

302.  D.  C.  Broderick ;  Portrait,       -       -       -       -  709 

303.  The  Body  of  Senator  Broderick  Lying 

IN  State,  San  Francisco,        -       -       -  711 

304.  Capture  of  John  Brown,  -----  715 

305.  John  Brown ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,   -       -  717 

306.  Harper's    Ferry    and     the    Arsenal 

Taken  by  Brown,      -----  719 

307.  The  Rescue, 723 

308.  KtJiNS  OF  Pemberton  Mills,      -       -       -  725 

309.  "  Lizzie"  Amidst  the  Awful  Ruins,  -        -       -  730 

310.  Japanese  Box  Containing  the  Treaty,     -        -  732 

311.  President  Buchanan's  Reception  of  the 

Grand  Embassy  from  Japan,        -       -  734 

312.  Ambassadors    Simmi   Boojsen  Noliami   and 

Mooragaki  Awajsi  Nokami,  -       -       -       -  738 

313.  The  Great  Eastern,    ------  740 

314.  Arrival  of  the  Steamship  Great  East- 

ern, AT  New  York,     -       -       -       -  744 

315.  Execution  of  General  Walker,        -       -       -  748 

316.  General  Walker ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -  750 

317.  Landing  of   General  Walker's  Filli- 

bustering  Expedition  at  Truxillo,  -  752 

318.  The  Prince  of  Wales  at  Washington's  Tomb,  756 

319.  Prince  of  Wales;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -  758 

320.  Grand   Ball  Given  to  the  Prince  of 

Wales,  in  Boston,      -----  761 

321.  Flag   of   Fort   Sumter,  After  the  Bombard- 

ment,      --------  764 

322.  Major  Anderson  ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -  766 

323.  General    Beauregard;     Portrait   and    Auto- 

graph,     --------  768 

324.  Interior  of  Fort  Sumter  after  the 

Bombardment,    ------  770 

325.  "  Cruiser,"  Untamed,        -----  772 

326.  JohnS.  Rarey;  Portrait,-       -       -        -       -  774 

327.  Mr.  Karey  Exhibiting  his  Celebrated  Method 

of  Taming  Horses,         -       -       _       -       -  777 

328.  Monument  on  tlie  Bull  Run  Battle-field,         -  780 

329.  General  McDowell;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  782 

330.  GeneraX  Johnston;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  784 

331.  Battle  of  Bull  Run,  -----  786 

332.  Interior  of  the  Tower  of  the  Monitor,   -        -  789 

333.  Connnodore    Franklin    Buchanan  ;    Portrait 

and  Autograph,       -       -                -       -        -  791 

334.  Naval  Combat  between  the  Mebrimao 

AND  Monitor,      -       -               -       -       -  794 

335.  lAeutenaniWorden;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  796 

336.  Burying  the  Dead  at  Antietiim,       -        -        .  793 

337.  General  McClellan ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  800 

338.  General  Burnside;    Portrait,          -       -        -  801 

339.  Battlf,  ok  Antietam,  -----  802 

340.  General  "  Stonewall "  Jackson  ;  Portrait,      -  803 

341.  General  Hooker;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -  804 

342.  Pen  used  in  Signing  the  Proclamation,   -        -  807 

343.  Secretary  Seward ;  Portrait,     -        -        -       -  808 

344.  Secretary  Stanton ;  Portrait,    -        .        .       -  809 

345.  President  Lincoln ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  810 

346.  Proclamation  of  Emancipation,     -       -  812 

347.  Operations  at  Vicksburg,  -----  817 

348.  General  Pemberton ;  Portrait,         -       -       -  819 

349.  Siege  of  Vicksburg,  by  General  Grant,  -        -  820 

350.  General  McPherson ;  Portrait,          -       »       -  822 

351.  Interview   between   Generals    Grant 

AND  Pemiierton,           -----  823 

3.52.     Meade'H  Head-quarters,     -----  826 

353.    General  Meade ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      -  828 

3?4.    Battle  of  Gettysburg,      -       -       -       -  830 

355.    GeneraXl/ongsWeet;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  8,)2 

3,56.    Soldiers'  Monument  at  Gettysburg,  -        -        -  834 

357.  Rev.  H.  W.  Beecher  Defending  the  American 

Union,  in  Exeter  Hall,  London,           -        -  8.'?8 

358.  Mr.  Beecher's  Church,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,       -  843 


no.  subject.  page. 

359.  Statue  of  Beethoven,  in  Boston,       -       -       -  844 

360.  The  Great  Organ  in  Boston  Music  Hall,  -       -  846 

361.  Genius  of  Art  and  Music,  -        -        -        .       -  848 

362.  Merchant  "Vessel  Burned  by  the  Alabama,      -  851 

363.  Captain  Semmes ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -  853 

364.  Captain  Winslow ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  855 

365.  Naval    Contest    between    the   Keab- 

sarqe  and  alabama,        -       -       -       -  857 

366.  Farragut's  Flag-Ship,  "  Hartford,"  -       -       -  859 

367.  Admiral  Farragut;  /'ort7-aJi,     -        -        -       -  861 

368.  Admiral  Porter;  Portrait,        -        -       -       -  861 

369.  Admiral  Foote;  Por^?-ai<,-        -        -        -        -  861 

370.  Admiral  Dupont;  Portrait,      -       -       -       -  861 

371.  Union  Naval  Victory  in  Mobile  Bay,  -  8G4 

372.  Head-quarters,  Atlanta,  Ga.,    -       -        .        -  868 

373.  General  Sherman ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  870 

374.  Sherman's  Great  March  through  the 

Heart  of  the  South,   -   -   -   -  872 

375.  General  Grant  Stating  Terms  of  Surrender,  -  877 

376.  Richmond,    the   Confederate   Capital, 

entered  by  the  Union  Army,      -       -  880 

377.  Lincoln's  Early  Home,      -----  887 

378.  Ford's  Theater  at  Washington,        -       -       -  888 

379.  The   Assassination  of  President  Lin- 

coln,      -----...  890 

380.  House  where  Lincoln  Died,       -       -       -       -  891 

381.  J.  Wilkes  Booth;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -  892 

382.  Lincoln's  Residence  at  Springfield,  111.,  -       -  893 

383.  Sergeant  Boston  Corbett;  i'or<mi<,         -       -  894 

384.  Burial  Place  of  Lincoln, 896 

385.  Section  of  the  Atlantic  Cable,  -        -        -        -  899 

386.  CyrusW.  Field;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      -  901 

387.  Arrival  of  the  Great  Eastern  at  Heart's  Con- 

tent, with  the  Atlantic  Cable,       -       .       -  905 

388.  Mountain  Scene  on  the  Pacific  Railroad,       -  907 

389.  Completion  of  the  Pacific  Railroad,  -  911 

390.  P.  S.  Gilmore;  Portrait  a^id  Autograph,  -       -  917 

391.  National  Peace  Jubilee  and  Musical  Festival 

at  Boston,       -------  920 

392.  Mr.  Ogden's  House  Untouched  in  the  Midst 

of  the  Great  Fire,  -----  924 

393.  Burning  of  Chicago,  October  8  and  9, 

1871, 928 

394.  Trinity  Church,  Boston,  Destroyed,         -       -  931 

395.  Terrible  Fire  in  the  Business  Heart  • 

OF  Boston,  Nov.  9  and  10, 1872,       -       -  934 

396.  Emblematic  Head  piece,  -----  938 

397.  Symbols  of  the  Co-operative  Labor  Organiza- 

tions,      --------  940 

398.  Spirit  of  the  Grange  Movement,  -       -  942 

399.  Scene  During  the  Trial  of  H.  W.  Beecher,     -  945 

400.  Rev.  Henry  Ward  Beecher;  Portrait  and  Au- 

tograph, --------  947 

401.  Theodore  Tilton ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -  948 

402.  Mrs.  Tilton ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -       -  949 

403.  House  in  which  Jefferson  Wrote  the  Declara- 

tion of  Independence,  -----  951 

404.  Opening  of  the  Centennial  Exhibition 

IN  Philadelphia,       -----  953 

405.  Tlio  Corliss  Engine,   ------  954 

40G.    Exhibition  Buildings  in  Philadelphia,  956 

407.  Independence  Hall,  July  4, 1876,    -       -  957 

408.  Union  Square,  New  York,  July  4, 1876,  -  959 

409.  Reading  the  Orioinal  Declaration  op 

Independence,  July  4,  1876,     -       -       -  961 

410.  Entrance  of  the  N.  Y.  7th  Regiment,       -        -  963 

411.  State  Avenue,  Nat'l  Centennbal  Exhibition,  -  964 

412.  Wom.in's  Pavilion,  Nat'lCentenn'lExhibit'n,  965 

413.  TiieTunisianTent,Niil'l  Centenn'l  Exhibit'n,  966 

414.  .All  Hail  to  the  Hereafter!  -       -       -  968 

415.  Flair  of  the  Gf^rman  Empire,    -        -        -       -  969 
HI).    ]Zu\\)eTor  Wi\\h\m;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  969 


I. 


BIRTH  OF  THE  NEW  REPUBLIC— 1776. 


Declaration  of  American  Independence  and  National  Sovereignty,  July  Fourth,  1776. — The  Gauntlet  of 
Defiance  thrown  at  the  Feet  of  the  British  Empire  by  Her  Youngest  Colonies. — Vast  Disparity,  in 
Power  and  Resources,  between  tlie  Contestants. — Tlie  whole  World  looks  on  Astonished  — Seven 
Years'  Bloody  and  Desolating  War. — The  American  Cause  Triumphant. — Grandest  Modern  Event. 
America  Resists  Unjust  Taxation. — Haughty  Obstinacy  of  King  George. — Burning  Eloquence  of  Pat- 
rick Henry. — His  Summons,  "  We  Must  Fight." — Washington  Endorses  this  Sentiment. — Determina- 
tion of  the  People. — War  Preferred  to  Submission  — Momentous  Action  by  Congress. — Separation  from 
England  Decreed. — Effect  of  the  Act  in  America. — Its  Reception  in  England  — Excitement  of  the 
King  and  Court. — Lord  Chatham,  America's  Advocate. — His  Passionate  Change  of  Views — Scorch- 
ing Speech  against  the  Colonies. — He  is  Struck  Dead  while  Speaking  — Magnanimity  of  Burke  and  Fox. 
— Recognition  from  France  Secured — Her  Timely  Aid  in  the  Struggle. — Victories  over  the  British 
Armies. — England  Gives  Up  the  Contest. — World-v/ide  Welcome  to  the  New  Nation. 


"  It  will  be  celebrated  by  succeeding  venerations,  as  the  Rroat  anniversary  festival.  It  ought  to  be  commemorntpd  as  the  day  of  deliverance, 
by  solemn  acts  of  devotion  to  Almiiihty  God.  It  ought  to  be  solemnized  with  jminp  and  parade,  with  shows,  paim.-.  sports,  guns,  bells,  bon- 
fires, and  illuminations,  frura  one  end  of  the  continent  to  the  other,  frojn  this  time  forth,  forevermore." — JouN  AOAUs. 


NE    HUNDRED   YEARS  ago,  namely,  on 
the  Fourth  of  July,  1776,  there  was  born  in 
the  western  world  a  New  Nation, — the  Re- 
public OF  THE  United  States.     Defiance  to 
tyrants  was  emblazoned  in  empyreal  light  upon 
hrr  brow,  iiid  Freedom  and  Justice  were  the 
frontlets  between  her  eyes.     Mon- 
arch s,  crowned  with  Icingly  dia- 
dems,  stood  awed  at  the  august 
manifesto,  and  at  the  solemn  ar- 
raignment of  King  George  before 
the    judgment    of    mankind,  and 
parliaments  and  cabinets  started 
in  dismay  to  their  feet;  but  the 
People,  as  they  descried  the  eagle 
of  Liberty  spreading  her  wings, 
and  soaring  proudly  aloft,  breath- 
ed freer  and  took  stronger  heart, 
as  the   clear   ring   of   her   voice 
sounded  through  the  air,  declar- 
ing, with  grandly  rounded  enun- 
^»^^'i'>5    ciation,  that  "all  men  are  created 

RINGING  OF  THE    BELL,  JULY  4,  1776.       CqUal. 

Refusing  to  pay  the  tribute  of  taxation  arbitrarily  imposed 
upon  them  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet  by  the  British  crown, — 


66 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


failing,  too,  to  move  the  king  and  his  min- 
isters from  their  career  of  liaughty  and 
reckless  obstinacy, — the  thirteen  American 
colonies  found  themselves  reduced  to  the 
alternative  of  abject  submission  to  their 
so-called  royal  masters,  or  of  armed  resist- 
ance. Already  there  had  flashed  through- 
out the  country  the  electric  words  of  Pat- 
rick Henry,  "  We  must  fight !  An  appeal 
to  arms  and  to  the  God  of  Hosts  is  all 
that  is  left  us.  I  repeat  it,  sir,  we  must 
fight!"  And  as  the  blood  of  patriot 
hearts  had  now  flowed  freely  and  bravely 
at  Concord,  and  Lexington,  and  Bunker 
Hill,  Washington  declared,  in  words  of 
solemn  emphasis  and  characteristic  brevity, 
"  Nothing  short  of  Independence,  it  ap- 
pears to  me,  can  possibly  do."  He  also 
warmly  approved  and  commended  Paine's 
pamphlet,  "  Common  Sense,"  written  to 
this  end.  The  sons  of  liberty  shouted  their 
responsive  acclaim  to  this  manly  summons 
from  the  great  American  soldier — Wash- 
ington— and,  like  the  sound  of  many  wa- 
ters, the  spirit  of  national  independence 
which  thus  possessed  the  people  came  upon 
the  continental  congress,  then  in  session  in 
the  state-house  at  Philadelphia,  Pennsyl- 
vania. 

It  was  in  this  temple  of  freedom,  where- 
in was  sitting  as  noble  and  august  a  legis- 
lative body  as  the  world  ever  saw,  that 
Richard  Henry  Lee  introduced  a  resolu- 
tion, on  the  7th  of  June,  1776,  declaring, 
"  Tliat  the  United  Colonies  are  and  ought 
to  be  free  and  independent  States,  andtliat 
their  political  connection  with  Great  Brit- 
ain is  and  ought  to  be  dissolved."  Upon 
this  resolution  there  sprang  up  at  once  an 
earnest  and  powerful  debate.  It  was  op- 
posed, principally,  on  the  ground  that  it 
was  premature.  Some  of  the  best  and 
strongest  advocates  of  colonial  rights  spoke 
and  voted  against  the  motion,  which  at  last 
was  adopted  only  by  a  vote  of  seven  States 
in  its  favor  to  six  against.  Some  of  the 
delegates  had  not  received  definite  instruc- 
tions from  their  constituents,  and  others 
had  been  requested  to  vote  against  it.  Its 
further  consideration  was  accordingly  post- 
poned until  there  was  a  prospect  of  greater 


unanimity.  On  the  eleventh  of  June, 
therefore,  a  committee  was  appointed  to 
draft  a  formal  Declaration  ;  this  commit- 
tee consisting  of  Benjamin  Franklin,  John 
Adams,  Thomas  Jefferson,  Roger  Sherman, 
and  Robert  R.  Livingston. 

On  the  twenty-eighth  of  June,  the  com- 
mittee made  their  report,  and  presented 
the  Declaration  which  they  had  drawn  up. 
The  first  or  original  draft  was  penned  by 
Mr.  Jefferson,  chairman  of  the  committee. 
On  the  second  of  July,  congress  proceeded 
to  the  serious  consideration  of  this  mo- 
mentous paper ;  the  discussion,  as  to  the 
tone  and  statements  characterizing  the 
document,  and  the  propriety  of  adopting 
at  that  time  a  measure  so  decisive,  lasted 
for  nearly  three  days,  and  was  extremely 
earnest.  It  was  so  powerfully  opposed  by 
some  of  the  members,  that  Jefft-rson  com- 
pared the  opposition  to  "  the  ceaseless  ac-< 
tion  of  gravity,  weighing  upon  us  by  night 
and  by  day."  Its  supporters,  however, 
were  the  leading  minds,  and  urged  its 
adoption  with  masterly  eloquence  and  abil- 
ity. John  Adams,  Jefferson  asserts,  was 
"  the  colossus  in  that  debate,"  and  "  fought 
fearlessly  for  every  word  of  it."  The  bond 
which  was  formed  between  those  two  great 
men  on  this  occasion  seems  never  to  have 
been  completely  severed,  both  of  them 
finally  expiring,  with  a  sort  of  poetic  jus- 
tice, on  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the  act 
which  constituted  their  chief  glory. 

Well  and  truly  did  the  mighty  patriot 
Adams  characterize  this  event  as  the  most 
memorable  epoch  in  the  history  of  Amer- 
ica. "  I  am  apt  to  believe,"  said  he,  "  that 
it  will  be  celebrated  by  succeeding  genera^ 
tions,  as  the  great  anniversary  festival.  It 
ought  to  be  commemorated  as  the  day  oi 
deliverance,  by  solemn  acts  of  devotion  to 
Almighty  God.  It  ought  to  be  solemnized 
with  pomp  and  parade,  with  shows,  games, 
sports,  guns,  bells,  bonfires  and  illumina- 
tions, from  one  end  of  this  continent  to 
the  other,  from  this  time  forth  forever> 
more  !  "  The  result  has  equaled  the  great 
patriot's  wishes.  Tradition  gives  a  dra^ 
matic  effect  to  its  announcement.  It  wa& 
known,  throughout  the  city,  that  the  great 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


67 


event  was  to  be  Jeteriniued  that  day,  by 
the  hist  foi'inal  acts ;  but  the  closed  doors 
of  congress  excluded  the  populace  from 
witnessing  the  august  assembly  or  its  pro- 
ceedings, though  thousands  of  anxious 
citizens  had  gathered  around  the  building, 
eager  to  hear  tlie  words  of  national  des- 
tiny soon  to  be  officiall}'  proclaimed.  From 
the  hour  when  congress  came  together  in 
the  forenoon,  all  business  was  suspended 
throughout  the  city,  and  tlie  old  bellman 
steadily  remained  at  his  post  in  the  steeple, 
prepared  to  sound  forth  to  the  waiting 
multitudes  the  expected  glad  tidings.  He 
had  even  stationed  a  boy  at  the  door  of  the 
hall  bulow,  to  give  immediate  signal  of  the 
turn  of  events.     This  bell,  manufactured 


felt  such  a  professional  pride,  the  electri- 
fied old  patriot  rung  forth  such  a  joyous 
peal  as  was  never  heard  before,  nor  ceased 
to  hurl  it  backward  and  forward,  till  every 
voice  joined  in  its  notes  of  gladness  and 
triumph.  The  roar  of  cannon,  and  illu- 
minations from  every  house  and  hill-top, 
added  to  these  demonstrations  of  uni- 
versal rejoicing. 

And  this  was  the  type  of  that  exultation 
which  everywhere  manifested  itself,  as  the 
news  spread  with  lightning  rapidity  from 
city  to  city  and  from  State  to  State.  Every 
American  patriot  regarded  the  declaration 
by  congress  as  the  noble  performance  of 
an  act  which  had  become  inevitable ;  and 
the  paper  itself  as  the  complete   vindica- 


HALL  OF  INDEPENDENCE,  PHILADELPHIA,  1776. 


in  England,  bore  upon  its  ample  curve  the 
now  prophetic  inscription,  "Proclaim  lib- 
erty throughout  all  the  land  unto  all  the 
inhabitants  thereof."  Hours  passed  on, 
and  fear  began  to  take  the  place  of  hope 
in  many  a  heart ;  even  the  venerable  and 
always  cheerful  bellman  was  overheard  in 
his  despondent  soliloquy,  "  They  will  never 
do  it!  they  will  never  do  it!"  Finally, 
at  about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
the  door  of  the  mysterious  hall  swung 
open,  and  a  voice  exclaimed,  "  Passed  ! — 
it  has  passed  !  "  The  word  was  caught  up 
by  ten  thousand  glad  mouths,  and  the 
watch-boy  now  clapped  his  hands  and 
shouted,  "  Ring !  Ring  ! "  Seizing  the  iron 
tongue  of  the  bell  in  which  he  had  long 


tion  of  America  before  the  bar  of  public 
opinion  throughout  the  world.  When  it 
was  read  by  the  magistrates  and  other 
functionaries,  in  the  cities  and  towns  of 
the  whole  nation,  it  was  greeted  with 
shouts,  bonfires,  and  processions.  It  was 
read  to  the  troops,  drawn  up  under  arras, 
and  to  the  congregations  in  churches  by 
ministers  from  the  pulpit.  Washington 
hailed  the  declaration  with  joy.  It  is 
true,  it  was  but  a  formal  recognition  of  a 
state  of  things  which  had  long  existed,  but 
it  put  an  end  to  all  those  temporizing  hopes 
of  reconciliation  which  had  clogged  tlie 
military  action  of  the  country.  On  the 
ninth  of  July,  therefore,  Washington 
caused  it  to  be  read  at  six  o'clock  in  the 


68 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


evening,  at  the  head  of  each  brigade  of 
the  army.  "  The  general  hopes,"  said  he 
m  his  orders,  "that  this  important  event 
will  serve  as  a  fresh  incentive  to  every 
officer  and  soldier,  to  act  with  fidelity  and 
courage,  as  knowing  that  now  the  peace 
and  safety  of  his  country  depend,  under 
God,  solely  on  the  success  of  our  arms ; 
and  that  he  is  now  in  the  service  of  a 
State,  possessed  of  sufficient  power  to  re- 
ward his  merit,  and  advance  him  to  the 
highest  honors  of  a  free  country."  The 
troops  listened  to  the  reading  of  this  with 
eager  attention,  and  at  its  close  broke  forth 
in  tumultuous  applause. 

The  excitable  populace  of  New  York 
were  not  content  with  the  ringing  of  bells 
and  the  other  usual  manifestations  of 
public  joy.  There  was  a  leaden  eques- 
trian statue  of  George  the  Third  in  the 
Bowling  Green,  in  front  of  the  fort. 
Around  this  kingly  effigy  the  excited  mul- 
titude, surging  hither  and  thither,  unit- 
edly gathered,  and  pulling  it  down  to  tlie 
ground,  broke  it  into  fragments,  whicli 
fragments  were  afterwards  conveniently 
molded  into  bullets  and  made  to  do  service 
against  his  majesty's  troops.  Some  of  the 
soldiers  and  officers  of  the  American  army 
having  joined  in  this  proceeding,  Wash- 
ington censured  it,  as  having  much  the 
appearance  of  a  riot  and  a  want  of  disci- 
pline, and  the  army  was  ordered  to  abstain, 
in  the  future,  from  all  irregularities  of  the 
kind. 

In  Boston,  that  citadel  of  radical  insub- 
ordination to  "his  majesty,"  the  public 
joy  knew  no  bounds,  and  even  the  Britisli 
prisoners  were  courteously  summoned  to 
witness  the  spirit  with  which  a  brave  peo- 
ple, determined  to  be  free,  dared  to  defy 
the  British  throne.  On  the  seventeenth 
of  July  the  British  officers  on  j)arole  re- 
ceived each  a  card  from  the  governor,  re- 
questing the  honor  of  said  officer's  attend- 
ance at  a  specified  hour  on  the  morrow,  in 
the  town  hall.  As  rumors  were  pretty 
well  afloat,  however,  touching  the  decided 
step  that  had  been  taken  at  Philadelphia, 
the  officers  were  not  without  a  suspicion  as 
to  the  purport  of  the  meeting,  and  hesi- 


tated for  a  while  as  to  the  consistency  of 
giving  the  sanction  of  their  presence  to  a 
proceeding  which  they  could  not  but  re- 
gard as  traitorous.  Curiosity,  however, 
got  the  better  of  these  scruples,  and  it  was 
resolved,  after  a  brief  consultation,  that 
the  invitation  ought  to  be  accepted. 

On  entering  the  hall,  the  king's  officers 
found  it  occupied  by  'rebellious'  function- 
aries, military,  civil,  and  ecclesiastical,  and 
among  whom  the  same  p"ood  humor  and 
excitement  prevailed  as  among  the  throng 
out  of  doors.  The  British  officials  were 
received  with  great  franknesss  and  cordi- 
ality, and  were  allotted  such  stations  as 
enabled  them  to  v/itness  the  whole  cere- 
mon3^  Exactly  as  the  clock  struck  one, 
Colonel  Crafts,  who  occupied  the  chair, 
rose,  and,  silence  being  obtained,  read 
aloud  the  declaration,  which  announced  to 
the  world  that  the  tie  of  allegiance  whicli 
had  so  long  held  Britain  and  her  North 
American  colonies  together,  was  forever 
separated.  This  being  finished,  the  gen- 
tlemen stood  up,  and  each,  repeating  the 
words  as  they  were  spoken  by  an  officer, 
swore  to  uphold,  at  the  sacrifice  of  life, 
tlie  rights  of  his  country.  Meanwhile,  the 
town  clerk  read  from  a  balcony  the  solemn 
declaration  to  the  collected  multitude ;  at 
the  close  of  which,  a  shout  began  in  the 
hall  and  passed  like  an  electric  spark  to 
the  streets,  which  now  rang  with  loud  huz- 
zas, the  slow  and  measured  boom  of  can- 
non, and  the  rattle  of  musketry.  The 
batteries  on  Fort  Hill,  Dorchester  Neck, 
the  castle,  Nantasket,  and  Long  Island, 
each  saluted  with  thirteen  guns,  the  artil- 
lery in  the  town  fired  thirteen  rounds,  and 
the  infantry  scattered  into  thirteen  divis- 
ions, poured  forth  thirteen  volleys,  —  all 
corresponding  to  the  number  of  states 
which  formed  the  Union.  There  was  also 
a  municipal  banquet,  at  which  speeches 
were  made  and  toasts  drank ;  and  in  the 
evening  a  brilliant  illumination  of  the 
houses. 

In  Virginia,  the  proclamation  of  inde- 
pendence was  greeted  with  that  same 
ardor  of  enthusiasm  which  for  so  many 
years  had  characterized  the  people  of  that 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


69 


ancient  commonweal tli,  in  the  course  of 
political  freedom.  In  South  Carolina,  too, 
the  declaration  was  read  to  the  assembled 
multitudes,  amid  the  greatest  rejoicings, — 
public  addresses,  military  and  civic  proces- 
sions, bands  of  music,  firing  of  cannon, 
and  kindred  demonstrations  of  popular 
favor.  In  all  the  colonies,  indeed,  the 
declaration  was  hailed  as  the  passing  away 
of  the  old  world  and  the  birth  of  the 
new. 

But  the  declaration,  though  it  thus 
solemnly  inaugurated  a  new  nation  and 
made  the  colonics,  for  the  time,  the  theater 
of  patriotic  jubilee,  involved  startling  per- 
ils and  imposed  momentous  duties ;  for  it 
was  a  defiant  cliallenge  to  combat  thrown 
by  a  mere  province  in  the  face  of  the  most 
colossal  power  in  all  Christendom.  This 
important  paper  commences  with  stating 
that,  "  When  in  the  course  of  human 
events  it  becomes  necessary  for  one  people 
to  dissolve  the  political  bands  which  have 
connected  them  with  another,  and  to  as- 
sume among  the  powers  of  the  earth,  the 
s  'parate  and  equal  stations  to  which  the 
laws  of  Nature,  and  of  Nature's  God,  en- 
title them,  a  decent  respect  to  the  opinions 
of  mankind  requires  that  they  should  de- 
clare the  causes  wbicli  impel  them  to  the 
separation." 

The  causes  are  then  stated,  and  a  long 
enumeration  of  the  oppressions  complained 
of  by  America  is  closed  by  saying  that 
"  a  prince,  whose  character  is  thus  marked 
by  every  act  which  may  define  a  tj'^rant,  is 
unfit  to  be  tlie  ruler  of  a  free  people." 
History  may  be  searched  in  vain  for  words 
so  bold  and  scathing,  used  by  a  colony 
against  a  powerful  sovereign. 

The  fruitless  appeals  which  had  been 
made  to  tlie  people  of  Great  Britain  are 
also  recounted,  but  "they  too,"  concludes 
tliis  declaration,  "have  been  deaf  to  the 
voice  of  justice  and  of  consanguinity.  We 
nmst,  tlierefore,  acquiesce  in  the  necessity 
which  denounces  our  separation,  and  hold 
them,  as  we  hold  the  rest  of  mankind, 
enemies  in  war,  in  peace  friends."  Then 
comes  the  port<Mitous  conclusion — 

"  We,  therefore,  the  representatives  of 


the  United  States  of  America,  in  general 
congress  assembled,  appealing  to  the  Su- 
preme Judge  for  tlie  rectitude  of  our  inten- 
tions, do,  in  the  name,  and  by  the  author- 
ity of  the  good  people  of  these  colonies, 
solemnly  publish  and  declare,  that  these 
United  Colonies  are,  and  of  right  ought  to 

be,  FREE  AND  INDEPENDENT  STATES  ;  that 

they  are  absolved  from  all  allegiance  to 
the  British  crown,  and  that  all  political 
connection  between  them  and  the  State  of 
Great  Britain,  is,  and  ought  to  be,  totally 
dissolved  ;  and  that,  as  free  and  independ- 
ent states,  they  have  full  power  to  levy 
war,  conclude  peace,  contract  alliances, 
establish  commerce,  and  do  all  other  acts 
and  things,  which  independent  states  may 
of  right  do.  And  for  the  support  of  this 
declaration,  with  a  firm  reliance  on  the 
protection  of  Divine  Providence,  we  mutu- 
ally pledge  to  each  other,  our  lives,  our 
fortunes,  and  our  sacred  honor." 

In  the  whole  country,  however,  between 
New  England  and  the  Potomac,  which 
was  now  to  become  the  great  theater  of 
action,  although  a  vast  majority  was  in 
favor  of  independence,  there  existed  an 
influential  number,  who  not  only  refused 
to  act  with  their  countrymen,  but  were 
ready  to  give  information  and  aid  to  the 
enemy.  Most  of  these  tories  were  wealthy 
and  haughty,  and  rendered  tliemselves  ex- 
tremely unpopular.  Laws  passed  by  the 
new  State  authorities  had  subjected  these 
persons  to  fines  and  imprisonments,  and 
their  property  to  confiscation.  They  en- 
dured many  outrages,  and  were  treated  to 
"tarrings  and  featherings"  innumerable, 
by  the  more  violent  among  the  angry  pop- 
ulace. To  prevent  these  outrages,  con- 
gress gave  the  supervision  of  tories  to 
committees  of  inspection.  Manj'  of  these 
obnoxious  families  finally  left  the  country, 
and  in  course  of  time  the  tory  element  was 
eradicated  or  completely  silenced. 

Scarcely  less  interesting  and  important 
is  the  cTiaracter  of  the  reception  which 
this  remarkable  document  met  on  its  ar- 
rival in  England.  Of  the  noble  band  of 
American  patriots  who  had  been  chosen  to 
deliberate  and  act  for  the  best  good  of  the 


70 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


oppressed  colonies,  and  who,  preceding  tlie 
final  act  of  the  declaration  of  independ- 
ence, had  sent  forth  the  most  magnani- 
mous appeals  to  Britain's  sense  of  justice, 
— of  these  men  and  their  works,  there  had 
gone  forth  one  of  the  grandest  eulogies 
from  the  elder  Pitt  (Lord  Chatliam),  the 
greatest  of  Britain's  statesmen,  who,  in 
his  place  in  parliament,  dared  to  say — 

"I  must  declare  and  avow  that  in  all 
my  reading  and  study — and  it  has  been 
my  favorite  study ;  I  have  read  Thucydi- 
des,  and  have  studied  and  admired  the 
master  states  of  the  world — that,  for  so- 
lidity of  reasoning,  for  force  of  sagacity, 
and  wisdom  of  conclusion,  under  such  a 
complication  of  circumstances,  no  nation 
or  body  of  men  can  stand  in  preference  to 
the  general  congress  of  Philadelphia." 

But  when,  a  few  years  after,  it  was  pro- 
posed, by  the  British  prime  minister,  to 
conciliate  the  exasperated  colonies  by  treat- 
ing them  as  a  people  possessing  certain 
independent  rights  and  powers,  Pitt 
showed  the  exalted  estimation  in  which 
he  held  the  rebellious  colonies  as  part  of 
the  British  realm,  by  opposing  such  a 
course,  in  a  speech  of  almost  dramatic 
power  and  el^ect,  and  from  which,  owing 
to  the  exhaustion  it  produced  in  his  own 
shattered  system,  the  great  peer  and  ora- 
tor almost  immediately  died. 

In  France,  the  declaration  of  independ- 
ence by  the  American  colonies  was  greeted 
with  secret  satisfaction  by  the  court  and 
rulers,  and  aroused  to  universal  gladness 
the  popular  heart.  Reviewing  the  scene 
and  its  actors,  one  of  the  most  brilliant 
and  popular  orators  of  that  intrepid  nation 
was  led  to  say :  "  With  what  grandeur, 
with  what  entliusiasm,  should  I  not  speak 
of  those  generous  men  who  erected  this 
grand  edifice  by  their  patience,  their  wis- 
dom, and  their  courage  !  Hancock,  Fi-ank- 
lin,  the  two  Adamses,  were  the  greatest 
actors  in  this  affecting  scene;  but  they 
were  not  the  only  ones.  Posterity  shall 
know  them  all.  Their  honored  names 
shall  be  transmitted  to  it  by  a  happier 
pen  than  mine.  Brass  and  marble  shall 
show  them  to  remotest  ages.     In  behold- 


ing them,  shall  the  friend  of  freedom  feel 
his  heart  palpitate  with  joy — feel  his  eyes 
float  in  delicious  tears.  Under  the  bust  of 
one  of  them  has  been  written,  '  He  wrested 
thunder  from  heaven  and  the  scepter  from 
tyrants.'  Of  the  last  words  of  this  eulogy 
shall  all  of  them  partake."  Still  more  preg- 
nant were  the  words  of  the  great  Mira- 
beau,  as,  citing  the  grand  principles  of  the 
American  Declaration,  from  his  place  in 
the  National  Assembly,  "  I  ask,"  he  said, 
"if  the  powers  who  have  formed  alliances 
with  the  States  have  dared  to  read  that 
manifesto,  or  to  interrogate  their  con- 
sciences after  the  perusal  ?  I  ask  whether 
there  be  at  this  day  one  government  in 
Europe — the  Helvetic  and  Batavian  con- 
federations and  the  British  isles  excepted 
— which,  judged  after  the  principles  of  the 
Declaration  of  Congress  on  the  fourth  of 
July,  1776,  is  not  divested  of  its  rights!" 
For  more  than  a  year,  commissioners 
from  congress,  at  the  head  of  whom  was 
Dr.  Franklin,  resided  at  the  court  of 
France,  urging  upon  that  government  to 
acknowledge  the  independence  of  the 
United  States.  But  the  success  of  the 
American  struggle  was  regarded,  as  yet, 
too  doubtful,  for  that  country  to  embroil 
herself  in  a  war  with  Great  Britain.  But 
that  great  event,  the  capture  of  the  British 
army  at  Saratoga,  seemed  to  increase  the 
probability  that  the  American  arms  would 
finally  triumph,  and  decided  France  to 
espouse  her  cause.  The  aid  which  France 
now  brought  to  the  Americans  was  of 
great  importance.  It  is  even  doubtful 
whether  the  colonies,  without  her  contri- 
butions of  money,  navy,  and  troops,  would 
have  been  able  to  resist  Britain  with  final 
success ;  at  least,  the  struggle  must  have 
been  greatly  prolonged.  To  this  inter^ 
vention,  however,  France  was  inclined,  b^ 
her  own  hostility  to  England,  whom  she 
delighted  to  see  humbled,  especially  by  a 
people  struggling  for  independence.  Fi- 
nally, after  the  surrender  of  Cornwallis  to 
General  Washington,  the  French  court 
pressed  upon  congress  the  propriety  of  ap- 
pointing commissioners  for  negotiating 
peace  with  Great  Britain.     In  accordance 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


71 


with  this  advice,  Jolin  Adams,  Benjamin 
Franklin,  John  Jay,  and  Henry  Laurens, 
were  appointed.  The  commissioners  met 
Messrs.  Fitzlierbert  and  Oswald,  on  the 
part  of  Great  Britain,  at  Paris,  and  provi- 
.sional  articles  of  peace  between  the  two 
countries  were  there  signed,  November 
thirtieth,  1782;  the  definitive  treaty  being 
signed  on  tlie  third  of  September,  1783. 
Holland  acknowledged  the  independence 
of  the  United  States  in  1782;  Sweden,  in 
February,  1783 ;  Denmark,  in  the  same 
month  ;  Spain,  in  March  ;  Russia,  in  July. 
And  thus,  the  Republic  of  the  United 
States  of  America  became  an  inde- 
pendent power  among  the  nations  of  the 
earth. 

It  was  not  unknown  to  the  wise  and 
venerable  enactors  of  the  Declaration,  that 
their  signatures  to  such  an  instrument 
would  be  regarded  in  England  as  an  act 
of  treason,  rendering  them  liable  to  the 
halter  or  the  block.  In  the  full  apprecia- 
tion of  all  this,  every  man  of  them  placed 
his  name  upon  the  immortal  parchment. 
The    only   signature    which    indicates    a 


trembling  hand,  is  that  of  Stephen  Hop- 
kins, but  this  was  owing  to  a  nervous 
affection ;  for,  so  resolute  was  he  in  con- 
gress, that,  when  some  of  the  members 
suggested  a  hope  of  reconciliation,  Mr. 
Hopkins  replied,  that  "the  time  had  come 
when  the  i^trongeat  arm  and  the  longest 
sword  must  decide  the  contest,  and  those 
members  who  were  not  prepared  for  action 
had  better  go  home."  The  boldest  signa- 
ture is  that  of  John  Hancock,  he  whom 
tlie  Britisli  had  excepted  in  their  offers  of 
pardon,  as  one  "whose  offenses  are  of  too 
flagitious  a  nature  to  admit  of  any  other 
consideration  but  that  of  condign  punish- 
ment." The  number  who  signed  the  Dec- 
laration was  fifty-six ;  and  the  average 
length  of  their  lives  was  about  sixtj'-five 
years.  Carpenters'Hall — or  Independence 
Hall — in  Philadelphia,  where  these  tre- 
mendous scenes  transpired,  is  still  one  of 
the  places  which  every  American  looks 
upon  with  patriotic  pride;  for  within  that 
temple  was  born  a  Nation,  in  whose  des- 
tiny were  wrapped  the  interests  of  Liberty 
and  Civilization  to  the  end  of  time. 


II. 

CAPITULATION  OF  GENERAL  BURGOYNE.— 1777 


First  Royal  Army  Ever  Surrendered  to  Americans. — Utter  Failure  of  England's  Grand  Scheme  to 
"  Subdue  the  Uebellious  Colonies." — European  Sympathy  for  the  Struggling  Infant  Nation. — Alliance 
Between  France  and  the  United  States. — Brilliant  and  Effective  Combination  of  French  and  Ameri- 
can Forces  — Gloomy  Prospect  for  America  in  1777. — Britain's  Honor  Intrusted  to  Burgoyne  — His 
MagniHcent  Army. — Rebels  to  be  Sternly  Dealt  With. — Sanguine  Expectations  of  Success. — Savages 
Leagued  with  tlie  Invaders. — Their  Murder  of  Miss  McCrea. — Burgoyne's  Triumphant  Progress. — 
Fall  of  Ticonderoga. — American  Victories  at  Bennington,  Etc. — Gates's  Army  in  Fine  Spirits. — General 
Fraser  Shot  Dead — The  "King's  Regulars"  Desperate. — General  Clinton  Fails  to  Aid  Them — All 
Hope  Abandoned  — Burgoyne  Lays  Down  his  Arms  — His  Meeting  with  Gates. — Trophies  of  This 
Victory. — How  Washington  Got  the  News. — Unbounded  Joy  of  Americans. — Crushing  Blow  to  British 
Pride. — Effect  upon  Other  Nations. 


"  I  have  but  to  give  ptrotch  to  the  Indian  forces  under  my  direction— and  they  amount  to  thousands— to  overtake  the  hardened  enemies 
of  Great  Britain.'- -Bukooy.ve's  I'uoclamatiok. 


N"    the    panels   of    that   vast    and    superb 
rotunda   wliicli   forms    the    center  of    the 
federal   capitol   at   Washington,   are   four 
magnificent  paintings  by  John  Trumbull, 
which  illustrate  tlie  first  four  great  events 
in    the    history    of    the    United    States, 
'^    namel}',  the  Declaration  of  American  In- 
^   dependence,  the  Surrender  of  Burgoyne, 
^    the  Surrender  of  Cornwallis,  and  the  Res- 
*!^^^      ignation  of    Washington   as   commander- 
in-chief  of  the  army.     The  design  of  this 
Gates's  HKAu-guAitiEiia.  volume  being  to  portray  the  scenes  and 

incidents  relating  to  euch  of  those  leading  occurrences,  of  perpetual  interest,  in  the  rev- 
olutionary period, — as  well  as  those  that  illustrate  the  remaining  years  which  constitute 
the  nation's  first  century, — the  account  which  here  follows  will  be  descriptive  of  that 
triumphant  achievement  of  revolutionary  valor,  the  reduction  of  I3urgoyne  and  his 
forces  in  1777 ;  it  being  the  first  royal  army  that  ever  capitulated  to  the  Americans. 
It  was  also  a  fitting  close  to  a  year  which  had  been  marked  by  the  arrival  of  Lafayette, 
favor  from  the  French  government,  the  battles  of  Brandywine,  Germantown,  and  Ben- 
nington, the  latter  won  by  General  Stark,  and  the  occupation  of  Philadelphia  by  Gen- 
eral Howe. 

The  campaign  of  1777  opened  under  gloomy  auspices,  and  promised  to  the  American 
cause  little  else  than  disasters.  The  army  of  Washington  was  totally  inadequate  in 
numbers,  discipline,  and  equipment,  to  cope  with  the  enemy,  with  any  prospect  of  suc- 
cess. The  genius  of  liberty  was  inclosed  between  two  fires,  and  once  more  a  fatal  crisis 
seemed  approaching  ;  for,  not  only  was  General  Howe  preparing  to  embark  with  twenty 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


73 


thousand  veteran  troops  for  the  Delaware, 
whence  he  was  to  move  on  Phihidelpliia, 
but  Burgoyne  was  approaching  with  about 
half  that  number,  backed  by  hordes  of  sav- 
ages from  the  north.  Burgoyne  had  long 
been  one  of  the  pet  generals  in  the  British 
army,  and  to  him  was  specially  intrusted 
the  prestige  of  British  arms  and  honor  in 
the  conflict  with  America.  He  was  the 
inheritor  of  great  wealth,  through  his 
father-in-law,  the  Earl  of  Derby  ;  he  served 
in  Portugal  with  much  credit,  as  brigadier- 
general,  in  17G2  ;  for  some  time  he  was  a 
conspicuous  member  of  parliament ;  and 
in  1775  he  was  ajipointed  to  a  command  in 
America,  "  to  subdue  the  rebellious  colo- 
nies." He  witnessed  the  battle  of  Bunker 
Hill.  In  1776  he  returned  to  England, 
and  had  a  long  conference  with  George 
III.  on  colonial  affairs.  In  1777  he  was 
appointed  to  lead  the  army  which  was  to 
penetrate  from  Canada  into  the  United 
States  and  crush  to  atoms  the  revolution- 
ary forces ; — with  what  success,  the  fol- 
lowing narrative  will  show : 

Having  arrived  in  Quebec  with  his  com- 
mission in  May,  1777,  this  ambitious  gen- 
eral, inspired  by  the  distinguished  confi- 
dence placed  in  his  genius  and  ability  by 
the  English  ministry,  immediately  dis- 
played great  activity  in  making  those 
preparations  which  were  necessary  to  the 
success  of  an  enterprise  which  was  to  de- 
cide the  fate  of  America.  The  regular 
force  placed  at  his  disposal,  consisting  of 
British  and  German  troops,  amounted  to 
upwards  of  seven  thousand  men,  exclusive 
of  a  corps  of  artillery  numbering  about 
five  hundred.  To  these  was  added  a  de- 
tachment of  seven  hundred  rangers,  under 
Colonel  St.  Leger,  destined  to  make  an 
incursion  into  the  country  of  the  Mohawks, 
and  to  seize  Fort  Stanwix.  Accordinor  to 
the  plan  of  operations  decided  upon  by 
Burgoyne,  his  principal  array  was  to  be 
joined  by  two  thousand  Canadians,  in- 
cluding hatchet-men,  and  other  workmen 
whose  services  were  necessary  to  render 
the  route  practicable.  A  sufficient  number 
of  seamen  had  likewise  been  assembled, 
for  manning  the  transports.     Besides  the 


Canadians  that  were  to  be  immediately 
attached  to  the  army,  many  others  were 
called  upon  to  scour  the  woods  in  the 
frontiers,  and  to  occupy  the  intermediate 
parts  between  the  army  which  advanced 
towards  the  Hudson  and  that  which  re- 
mained for  the  protection  of  Canada;  the 
latter  amounted,  including  the  highlanO 
emigrants,  to  upwards  of  three  thousand 
men.  They  were  furnished  by  the  san- 
guine ministry  with  an  unusual  variety 
and  abundance  of  provisions,  military 
stores,  and  other  conveniences,  amongst 
which  was  included  a  large  quantity  ot 
uniforms,  destined  for  the  loyalists,  who, 
it  was  not  doubted,  would  after  victory 
flock  from  all  quarters  to  the  royal  camp. 
A  great  number  of  cruel  and  intractable 
savages  were  also  gathered  together  to 
swell  the  force  and  prowess  of  this  invad- 
ing host.  Burgoyne  had  taken  pains  to 
be  seconded  by  many  brave  and  able  offi- 
cers, among  whom  was  Major-General 
Phillips,  the  brigadier-generals  Eraser, 
Powel,  Hamilton,  and  Specht,  with  the 
Brunswick  major-general,  Baron  Riedesel. 
The  whole  army  shared  enthusiastically 
in  the  ardor  and  hopes  of  its  chiefs,  and 
not  a  doubt  was  entertained  of  an  ap- 
proaching triumph,  and  the  thorough  con- 
quest and  humiliation  of  America.  The 
most  base  feature  in  Burgojnie's  plan  of  the 
campaign  was  his  employment  of  hordes 
of  wild  and  inhuman  savages,  whose  onl}' 
weapons  were  the  tomahawk  and  scalping- 
knife.  But  bitterly  did  he  rue  his  course 
in  this  respect,  for  the  deeds  enacted  by 
those  hell-hounds  of  cruelty  served,  more 
than  any  thing  else,  to  exasperate  the 
American  patriots,  and  to  incite  them  to 
determined  resistance  and  triumph.  The 
murder  of  that  lovely  young  woman,  Miss 
McCrea,  at  Fort  Edward,  and  the  bloody 
massacre  in  the  beautiful  valley  of  Wyom- 
ing, were  the  legitimate  fruits  of  such  a 
policy  as  that  of  Burgoyne. 

The  first  movement  of  Burgoyne  was  to 
encamp  near  the  little  river  Roquet,  on 
the  western  bank  of  Lake  Champlain,  a 
short  distance  north  of  Crown  Point. 
Here  he  made  addresses  to  the  Indians  to 


74 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


stimulate  their  ardor  but  repress  their 
ferocious  propensities,  and  sent  proclama- 
tions into  the  country  to  intimidate  the 
people.  He  next  made  a  short  stop  at 
Crown  Point,  and  tlien  proceeded  to  invest 
Ticonderoga.  The  right  wing  took  the 
western  bank  of  the  lake,  the  left  advanced 
upon  the  eastern,  and  the  center  was  em- 
barked upon  the  lake  itself. 


Unfortunately,  the  American  ami}',  des- 
tined to  oppose  the  progress  of  the  royal 
troops  and  to  defend  Ticonderoga,  w'as 
altogether  insufficient.  General  Schuyler, 
who  commanded  the  American  troops  in 
this  quarter,  had  been  disappointed  in 
procuring  re-enforcements,  and  his  men 
numbered  only  about  four  thousand.  Ti- 
conderoga itself  was  very  strongly  fortified 
on  every  side,  and  its  defense  was  in- 
trusted to  General  St.  Clair,  with  a  garri- 
son of  three  thousand  men,  one-third  of 
these  being  raw  militia,  and  all  of  them 
poorly  equipped.  Although  General  St. 
Clair  put  forth  every  exertion  to  retard  the 
operations  of  the  advancing  enemy,  yet  in 
a  few  days  they  succeeded  in  getting  j>os- 
session  of  Mount  Hope  and  Mount  De- 
fiance, two  very  important  positions,  one 
of  which  commanded  tlie  American  lines 
to  a  dangerous  degree,  and  the  other  over- 
looked the  entire  fort.  Ticonderoga  be- 
ing thus  easily  hemmed  in  on  every  side, 
a  council  of  officers  concluded  to  evacuate 
the  fort.     They  accordingly  withdrew  on 


the  night  of  the  fifth  of  July.  All  was 
done  in  good  order  and  profound  silence ; 
and  the  stores,  artillery  and  provisions, 
were  put  on  board  two  hundred  bateaux 
and  five  armed  galleys.  They  would  prob- 
ably have  escaped  unperceived  by  the 
British,  had  not  a  house  caught  fire  on 
Mount  Independence,  which  betrayed  by 
its  light  all  that  had  taken  place.  The 
Americans  were  immediately  pursued,  and 
by  the  next  afternoon  their  boats  were 
overtaken  and  attacked  at  Skenesborough 
Falls.  Two  of  the  American  galleys  sur- 
rendered, and  three  were  blowr  up ;  and, 
after  setting  fire  to  their  works,  mills,  and 
bateaux,  that  portion  of  the  araiy  escaped 
up  Wood  Creek  to  Fort  Anne.  The  van- 
guard of  the  corps  that  set  out  by  land, 
under  St.  Clair,  had  arrived  at  Castleton ; 
the  rear  had  rested  at  Hubbardston,  when 
it  was  overtaken  and  attacked  by  General 
Fraser,  on  the  morning  of  the  seventh. 
An  obstinate  battle  ensued,  which  at 
length,  after  Riedesel  came  up,  resulted  in 
the  dispersion  of  the  Americans,  who  left 
many  of  their  soldiers,  together  with  their 
brave  commander.  Colonel  Francis,  dead 


on  the  field.  St.  Clair,  aftor  hearing  this 
news,  struck  into  the  woods  in  an  eastern 
direction,  hoping  thereby  to  mislead  Bur- 
goyne  as  to  the  course  and  position  of  the 
American  forces. 

The  English  generals  next  resolved  to 
drive  the  Americans  from  Fort  Anne. 
After  a  sanguinary  combat  they  finally 
succeeded  in  this,  by  bringing   suddenly 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


75 


to  their  aid  tlieir  savage  allies.  The 
Americans  set  the  fort  on  fire,  and  re- 
tired to  Fort  Edward,  where  General 
Schuyler  liad  posted  himself.  On  the 
twelfth,  St.  Clair  also  arrived  there  with 
the  remains  of  the  garrison  of  Ticonder- 
oga.  This,  it  was  expected,  would  be  the 
next  point  of  attack.  But  Burg03'ne  was 
detained  at  Skenesborough,  through  want 
of  provisions  and  stores.  General  Schuy- 
ler took  advantage  of  this  delay,  and  neg- 
lected no  means  to  procure  recruits  and 
to  impede  the  progress  of  the  enemy. 

After  succeeding  in  obtaining  posses- 
sion of  Fort  George,  the  British  army  with 
much  difficulty  attained  the  banks  of  the 
Hudson,  near  Fort  Edward.  The  Ameri- 
cans moved  down  to  Stillwater.  Bur- 
goyne  soon  experienced  a  great  depriva- 
tion of  provisions.  While  Colonel  St. 
Leger  was  investing  Fort  Stanwix,  on 
the  Mohawk,  he  detached  five  hundred 
soldiers  and  savages  to  procure  cattle  at 
Bennington.  To  favor  this  expedition  he 
moved  his  army  down  to  the  bank  opposite 
Saratoga ;  but  a  company  of  provincials 
having  assembled  from  different  quarters 
at  Bennington,  under  the  command  of 
Colonel  Stark,  the  latter  met  the  enemy 
on  the  border  of  the  town,  and  after  an 
obstinate  encounter  bravely  repulsed  them. 
The  British,  however,  were  again  strength- 
ened by  a  fresh  detachment,  and  once  more 
the  Americans  were  attacked;  but  victory 
declared  for  the  latter,  tlie  English  losing 
seven  hundred  men  and  all  their  bagg-aee. 

But  at  this  time.  General  Herkimer, 
who  marched  to  the  relief  of  Colonel  Gan- 
sevoort  at  Fort  Stanwix,  was  ambushed  by 
the  savages,  who  dispersed  his  corps  with 
all  that  frightful  carnage  characteristic  of 
Indian  warfare.  In  a  short  time,  how- 
ever, the  Indians  became  disaffected,  and 
the  British  were  obliged  to  raise  the  siege 
and  retreat. 

These  successes  of  the  Americans  at 
Stanwix  and  Bennington,  inspired  them 
with  new  confidence.  The  harvests  were 
now  ended,  and  the  country  people  took 
arms  in  multitudes,  and  hastened  to  the 
camp  elated  with  the  expectation  of  van- 


quishing the  vaunted  'regulars  of  the 
king.'  General  Gates,  an  officer  of  no 
inconsiderable  renown,  was  ai)[)ointed  to 
the  command  of  the  army,  whicii  also  gave 
a  new  spur  to  their  alacrity  ;  they  were  ex- 
cited, too,  by  the  inhuman  cruelties  of  the 
savages  under  St.  Leger  and  Burgoyne, 
and  the  awful  butchery  of  the  young  and 
beautiful  Miss  McCrea,  murdered  in  cold 
blood  at  Fort  Edward  by  the  British-paid 
Indians,  which  was  still  fresh  in  tiieir 
minds,  exasperated  them  to  the  extreme. 
The  savages  now  deserted  Burgoyne,  and 
the  Canadians  were  frightened  to  tlieir 
homes,  by  the  sinister  aspect  of  affairs. 
General  Lincoln,  with  a  strong  and  de- 
termined lody  of  New  Hampshire  and 
Connecticut  militia,  assisted  hy  Colonels 
Brown  and  Johnston,  proceeded  with  great 
secrecy  and  celerity  to  repossess  Forts  Ed- 
ward, Anne,  and  George,  Mount  Hope, 
and  Mount  Defiance.  Complete  success 
crowned  this  admirably  conducted  move- 
ment. 

General  Burgoyne  having  amassed  about 
thirty  days'  provisions,  resolved  to  pass  tlie 
Hudson,  engage  the  American  army,  and 
penetrate  to  Albany.  Towards  the  mid- 
dle of  September,  he  crossed  the  river,  and 
encamped  on  the  heights  and  plains  of 
Saratoga,  Gates  being  then  near  Stillwa- 
ter. Burgoyne  had  now  to  rely,  almost 
entirely,  on  his  German  and  British  regu- 
lar troops,  and  a  battle  was  soon  expected. 
This  was  reserved  for  the  nineteenth  of 
September,  and  the  question  was  to  be  de- 
cided, whether  the  Americans  could  resist 
the  English  upon  equal  ground,  in  fair 
and  regular  battle. 

Some  small  woods  only  separating  the 
two  watchful  and  eager  armies,  they  were 
early  on  the  nineteenth  formed  in  the 
order  of  battle.  The  right  wing  of  the 
British  army  rested  upon  the  high  grounds, 
and  the  left  wing  and  artillery,  under  Phil- 
lips and  Riedesel,  kept  along  the  road  and 
meadows  by  the  river  side.  Gates  took 
the  right  of  the  American  armj^  and  gave 
the  left  to  Arnold.  Smart  skirmishes  im- 
mediately ensued  between  the  foremost 
marksmen   of    either  party,  and  the  two 


76 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876 


forces  soon  met.  General  Fraser  repulsed 
the  Americans.  Finding  the  right  flank 
of  the  enemy's  right  wing  so  well  defended, 
they  left  a  sufficient  guard  to  defend  this 
passage,  made  a  rapid  movement  to  their 
right,  and  vigorously  assailed  the  left  flank 
of  the  same  wing.  Arnold  exhibited  upon 
this  occasion  all  the  impetuosity  of  his 
courage,  and  emboldened  his  men  both  by 
voice  and  example.  The  action  became 
extremely  warm ;  and  the  enemy  fearing 
that  Arnold,  by  cutting  their  line,  would 
penetrate  between  their  wings  —  as  was 
manifestly  his  intention, — hastened  to  re- 
enforce  the  points  attacked.  General 
Fraser  came  up  with  the  twenty-fourth 
regiment,  some  light  infantry,  and  Brey- 
man's  riflemen ;  he  would  have  drawn 
more  troops  from  the  right  flank,  but  the 
heights,  on  which  it  was  posted,  were  of 
too  great  importance  to  be  totally  evacu- 
ated. Meanwhile,  sucli  was  the  valor  and 
impetuosity  of  the  Americans,  that  the 
English  began  to  fall  into  confusion,  and 
would  have  been  utterly  routed,  but  for  the 
arrival  of  General  Pliillips  with  fresh  men 
and  a  part  of  the  artillery;  upon  hearing 
the  firing,  he  had  rapidly  made  his  way 
through  a  very  (liiTicult  wood  to  the  scene 
of  danger.  He  restored  the  action  at  the 
very  moment  it  was  about  to  be  decided  in 
favor  of  the  Americans ;  but  the  latter, 
nothing  daunted,  renewed  their  attacks 
with  such  persevering  energy,  that  night 
only  parted  tlie  combatants. 

Benedict  Arnold  and  Daniel  Morgan 
were  the  ruling  spirits  that  directed  the 
battle  on  the  part  of  the  Americans,  and 
the  gallant  General  Fraser  was  the  direct- 
ing soul  of  the  British  in  action.  His  skill 
and  courage  were  everywliere  conspicu- 
ous. He  was  mounted  upon  a  splendid 
iron-gray  gelding;  and,  dressed  in  the  full 
uniform  of  a  field  officer,  he  was  a  promi- 
nent object  in  the  eyes  of  the  Americans. 
It  was  evident  that  the  fate  of  the  battle 
rested  upon  him,  and  this  the  keen  ej-o 
and  sure  judgment  of  Morgan  perceived. 
In  an  instant  his  purpose  was  conceived, 
and.  calling  a  file  of  his  best  irien  around 
bim,    he   said,   as   he  pointed   toward   the 


British  right,  "  That  gallant  officer  is  Gen- 
eral Fraser.  I  admire  and  honor  him,  but 
it  is  necessary  he  should  die ;  victory  for 
the  enemy  depends  upon  him.  Take  j-our 
stations  in  that  clump  of  bushes,  and  do 
your  duty."  Within  five  minutes  Fraser 
fell,  mortally  wounded,  and  was  carried  to 
the  camp  by  two  grenadiers.  Just  previ- 
ous to  being  hit  by  the  fatal  bullet,  the 
crupper  of  his  horse  was  cut  by  a  rifle  ball, 
and  immediately  afterward  another  passed 
through  the  horse's  mane,  a  little  back  of 
his  ears.  The  aid  of  Fraser  noticed  this, 
and  said,  "  It  is  evident  that  you  are 
marked  out  for  particular  aim;  would  it 
not  be  prudent  for  you  to  retire  from  this 
place?"  Fraser  replied,  "My  duty  for- 
bids me  to  fly  from  danger,"  and  the  next 
moment  he  fell.  This  act  is  said  to  have 
been  originally  suggested  by  Arnold. 

After  this  battle,  lUirgoyne  waited 
nearly  a  month  to  hear  from  General 
Clinton.  At  length  he  received  intelli- 
gence, but  it  was  of  such  a  nature  as  oidy 
to  increase  his  disappointments  and  ren- 
der his  situation  more  hopeless.  Driven 
to  extremity,  he  resolved  to  make  another 
effort  to  force  a  passage  to  Albany  by  his 
enemy's  left.  In  this  he  utterly  failed, 
and  his  troops  were  driven  back  to  their 
intrenchments,  being  pur.>jued  with  eager- 
ness and  great  loss,  even  to  their  camj). 
The  Americans  had  now  acquired  an 
opening  on  the  right  and  rear  of  the 
British  army,  whose  situation  was  there- 
fore rendered  very  perilous.  I'urgo^yne 
now  operated  a  change  of  ground.  But 
General  Gates  had  taken  the  precaution 
to  station  strong  divisions  on  almost  every 
side,  to  prevent  the  enemy's  escape.  r>ur- 
goyne  then  retired  to  Saratoga ,  but  so 
miserable  was  the  condition  of  his  army, 
that  it  occupied  nearly  two  days  to  effect 
this  small  movement  of  six  miles,  and  even 
left  his  hospital  in  the  hnnds  of  the  Ameri- 
cans. Hoping  to  cross  the  river  at  Sara- 
tojra,  and  retreat  to  the  lakes  to  save  his 
army,  he  soon  found  that  Fort  Edward,  on 
the  opposite  bank,  was  too  strongly  man- 
ned to  admit  of  his  attempting  any  such 
purpose ;    thereui^on  he  turned  his  atten- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


77 


tion  to  Fort  George,  in  hopes  of  crossing 
there,  lie  was  not  long  in  ascertaining, 
however,  that  there,  too,  the  Americans 
were  strongly  intrenched. 

General  Gates,  with  the  main  body  of 
the  American  army,  thirsting  for  battle, 
was  hard  upon  Burgoyue's  rear.  In  this 
state  of  affairs  it  was,  that  the  proud- 
spirited Briton  finally  relinquished  all 
expectation  of  saving  himself  by  his  own 


nature  of  the  ground,  could  not  be  at- 
tacked ; — such  was  the  extremity  that  pre- 
sented itself.  But  Burgoyne's  troops,  even 
while  the  rifle  and  grape  shot  fell  thickly 
around  them  in  this  forlorn  state,  retained 
their  ordinary  constancy,  and,  while  sink- 
ing  under  war's  hard  necessity,  betrayed 
no  want  of  temper,  or  of  fortitude. 

Clinton's  effort  to  relieve  Burgoyne  was 
unsuccessful.     He  pushed  up  the  Hudson 


CAPITULATION  OF  BURGOYNE'S  AKMY. 


efforts.  His  only  refuge  from  despair  was 
the  faint  possibility  of  co-operation  from 
the  parts  down  tlie  river ;  and  he  looked 
for  the  aid  of  Clinton  with  the  most  in- 
tense desire.  His  army  was  in  a  pitiable 
condition.  Worn  out,  abandoned,  half 
their  number  slaughtered,  and  amongst 
them  the  most  distinguished  officers;  and 
invested  closely  by  a  much  greater  force, 
who  refused  to  fight  from  a  knowledge  of 
their  helpless  condition,  and  who,  from  the 


river,  captured  Forts  Montgomery  and 
Clinton,  after  a  brave  resistance  by  the 
American  garrison,  and  then,  with  wan- 
ton cruelty,  Sir  Henry  set  fire  to  houses 
and  buildings  of  every  description,  de- 
stroying, by  conflagration,  the  church  and 
every  other  building  in  the  beautiful  town 
of  Esopus.  After  the  capture  of  these  two 
forts,  Clinton  dispatched  a  messenger  by 
the  name  of  Daniel  Taylor,  to  Burgoyne, 
with   the   cheering    intelligence.      Fortu- 


78 


OUH  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-187G 


nately,  lie  was  taken  on  the  way  as  a  spy. 
Finding  himself  in  danger,  he  was  seen  to 
turn  aside  and  take  something  from  his 
pocket  and  swallow  it.  The  American 
commander  forthwith  ordered  a  severe 
dose  of  emetic  tartar  to  be  administered ; 
this  produced  the  effect — the  prisoner  dis- 
charging a  small  silver  bullet,  which,  on 
beinor  unscrewed,  was  found  to  inclose  a 
dispatch  to  Burgoyne.  "  Out  of  thine 
own  mouth  thou  shalt  be  condemned." 
The  spy  was  tried,  convicted,  and  executed. 
Perceiving,  now,  that  all  the  passes  in 
his  rear  were  strongly  guarded,  and  that 
further  retreat  or  resistance  was  useless, 
Burgoyne  called  a  council  on  the  fifteenth 
of  October.  Whilo  the  council  was  qui- 
etly deliberating,  an  eighteen-pound  shot 
crossed  the  table,  and  they  resolved  unani- 
mously to  offer  terms  to  General  Gates. 
These  proposals  finally  resulted  in  the  ca- 
pitulation of  Burgoyne's  whole  army.  The 
news  of  the  capture  in  the  Highlands  is 
said  to  have  arrived  at  this  juncture,  which 
led  General  Burgoyne  to  temporize,  in  ex- 
pectation of  possible  relief  from  Sir  Henry 
Clinton.  Gates,  seeing  the  critical  mo- 
ment, drew  up  his  army  for  immediate  on- 
set, and  sent  in  a  flag,  demanding  a  reply 
in  ten  minutes.  The  exigency  was  immi- 
nent, and  Burgoyne  felt  it.  With  a  trem- 
bling hand  and  pallid  countenance  the 
proud  warrior  signed  the  treaty.  The 
surrender  was  duly  carried  into  effect  on 
the  seventeenth  of  October.  Burgoyne 
having  proposed  to  Wilkinson,  the  Ameri- 
can adjutant-general,  a  desire  to  be  intro- 
duced to  General  Gates,  they  crossed  the 
Fishkill,  and  proceeded  to  head-quarters 
on  horseback.  General  Burgoyne  in  front, 
with  his  adjutant-general  and  two  aids- 
de-camp  behind  him  ;  then  followed  Major- 
General  Phillips,  the  Baron  Riedesel,  and 
the  other  general  officers  and  their  suites, 
according  to  rank.  General  Gates,  ad- 
vised of  Burgoyne's  approach,  met  him  at 
the  head  of  the  American  cam|).  Bur- 
goyne in  a  rich  royal  uniform,  and  Gates 
in  a  plain  blue  frock.  When  they  ap- 
proached nearly  within  sword's  length, 
they   reined    up    and   halted.     Adjutant- 


General  Wilkinson  then  formall^^  an- 
nounced the  names  of  the  gentlemen, 
whereupon  General  Burgoyne,  raising  his 
hat  most  gracefully,  said : 

"  The  fortune  of  war,  General  Gates, 
has  made  me  your  prisoner." 

"  /  shall  always  he  ready  to  hear  testi- 
mony," promptly  replied  the  conqueror, 
with  a  courtly  salute,  ^Hhat  it  has  not 
heen  through  any  fault  of  your  excellency." 

Major-General  Phillips  then  advanced, 
and  he  and  General  Gates  saluted  and 
shook  hands,  with  the  familiarity  of  old 
ac(juaintances.  The  Baron  Riedesel  and 
other  officers  were  introduced  in  their 
turn.  General  Gates,  with  great  delicacy, 
consented  to  an  arrangement  by  which  the 
American  soldiery  were  not  to  be  present 
when  the  British  army  underwent  the 
shame  and  humiliation  of  piling  their 
arms. 

The  trophies  which  were  gained  by  this 
great  victory,  were  five  thousand  seven 
hundred  and  ninety-one  prisoners,  a  train 
of  brass  artillery  immensely  valuable,  con- 
sisting of  forty-two  pieces  of  brass  can- 
non, besides  seven  thousand  muskets,  with 
seventy-two  thousand  cartridges,  and  an 
ample  supply  of  shot,  shells,  and  clothing 
for  seven  thousand  men,  with  a  large  num- 
ber of  tents  and  other  military  stores. 
The  American  army  numbered  about  three 
times  that  of  the  enemy. 

The  American  army  engaged  in  this 
victorious  enterprise,  contained  many  fine 
officers.  Schuyler  was  a  man  of  great 
good  sense  and  experience,  having  been 
an  officer  in  the  war  of  1755  to  1763. 
General  Morgan,  a  bold  and  intrepid  sol- 
dier, was  there,  rendering  most  conspicu- 
ous service.  Arnold's  heroism  never  shone 
more  brightly  than  in  the  various  ordeals 
through  which  he  passed  during  this  cam- 
paign. Lincoln,  too,  showed  himself  to  be 
valiant  and  discreet  even  in  the  most  try- 
ing exigencies.  Brooks's  share  in  this 
event  is  applauded  by  every  historian  of 
the  war,  as  is  likewise  the  honorable  career 
of  Dearborn  and  Hull.  The  other  Ameri- 
can generals,  who  may  be  named  in  this 
campaign,  are  Poor,  Learned,  Ten  Broeck, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


79 


Fellows,    Patterson,   Nixon,    and    Glover. 
Of   General   Gates,  the  central  figure  in 
tins  great  act,  it  may  be  remarked,  that, 
though  ui«juestionably  a  man  of  talents, 
he  was  so  far  deficient  in  judgment  as  to 
be  influenced  by  the  arts  and  representa- 
tions of  those  who,  under  the  lead  of  Gen- 
eral Conway, — whose  offensive  conduct  in 
this  matter  finally  led  to  a  duel  between 
him  and  General  Cadwalader  —  were  en- 
gaged in  a  scheme  to  wrest  the  supreme 
command  of  the  revolutionary  army  from 
Washington  and   have  it  conferred  upon 
Gates.     At  this  very  time,  the  intrigue  of 
the  Conway  faction  was  at  its  height,  and 
the    officers   who    were    implicated    in   it 
seized  upon  the  occasion  to  strike  a  deci- 
sive blow.    The  disastrous  loss  of  the  battle 
just  fought  at  Germantown  they  charged 
to  Washington's  delaying  his  division  at 
the  Chew  House.     So  artful  and  persever- 
ing were  they  in  these  representations  of 
Washington's  incompetency,  and  so  bril- 
liant had  Gates's  military  repute  become 
by  the  magnificent  victory  with  which  he 
had  relieved  the  public  despondency,  that 
the  idea  began  to  prevail  in  the  minds  of 
many,  that  the  days  of  Washington's  as- 
cendency   were    numbered    and    finished. 
Gates,  in  his  invidious  rivalry  of  Wash- 
ington, would  not  deign  to  communicate 
the  news  of  his  victory  to  the  latter,  but 
sent  a  courier  direct  to  congress  instead. 
It    was,  curiously  enough,  at  the  precise 
period  when   Washington's  star   had  be- 
come  dimmed  by  military  reverses,  that 
the  rumor  was  found  circulating  through 
his  camp,  of  Burgoyne's  having  been  con- 
quered and  his  whole  army  taken  prison- 
ers  by   General  Gates.     The  excitement 
became  intense,  and  all  were  on  the  watch 
for  news  from   the  north.     Several  days, 
however,  passed  away,  and  no  further  in- 
telligence was  received.     Washington,  of 
course,  had  heard  the  rumor,  and  doubtless 
appreciated   the   effect  it  would   have,  if 
true,  upon  public  opinion,  as  between  the 
merits  of  himself  and  Gates. 

Now,  it  so  happened  that  Washington's 
head-quarters  were  on  the  road  leading 
from  Germantown  to  York,  where  congress 


was  then  in  session.     On  the  forenoon  of 
Saturday,    October     eighteenth.     Colonel 
Pickering,  adjutant-general  of  the  army, 
was  there  transacting  business  with  Wash- 
ington.    They  were  in  a  room  of  the  sec- 
ond  story,   at   the   corner   of   the   house, 
looking   up   the   road  that  led  from   the 
north.     While  sitting  there,  a  horseman 
was  seen   approaching,  whose  appearance 
indicated  that  he  had  traveled  long  and 
from   far.      His    aspect,    his    saddle-bags, 
and  the  manner  of  his  movement,  indi- 
cated that  he  was  an  express-rider.     The 
attention  of  both  Washington  and  Picker- 
ing was  at  once  arrested.     They  took  it 
for  granted  that  he  must  be  bearing  dis- 
patches from  the  northern  army  to  con- 
gress, and  were  sure  that  he  could  inform 
them   whether   the   report  of   Burgoyne's 
surrender  was  well   founded.     As  he  ap- 
proached nearer,  Pickering  recognized  him 
as  an  officer  of   the  northern   army.     At 
Washington's  request,  he  ran  down  to  the 
door,  stopped  him,  and  conducted  him  up 
to  the  general's  room  with  his  saddle-bags. 
Washington  instantly  opened  them,  tore 
the  envelope  of  a  package,  spread  out  an 
announcement  of  the  victory  at  Saratoga 
and     Burgoyne's    surrender    to     General 
Gates,  and    attempted    to    read    it    aloud. 
As   he   read,  the  color   gradually   settled 
away    from    his    countenance,    his    hand 
trembled,  his  lips  quivered,  his  utterance 
failed  him — he  dropped  the  paper,  clasped 
his   hands,  raised  them  upward,  and,  thus 
transfixed,  was  for  several  moments  lost  in 
a  rapture  of  adoring  gratitude.     "  While 
I   gazed,"  said  Colonel  Pickering,   "upon 
this    sublime    exhibition  of   sensibility,   I 
saw  conclusive   proof  that,  in  comparison 
with  the  good  of  his  country,  self  was  ab- 
solutely  nothing  —  the    man    disappeared 
from  my  view,  and  the   very  image    and 
personification  of  the  patriot  stood  before 
me." 

Throughout  America,  the  joy  which  this 
victory  produced,  was  unbounded.  Indeed, 
the  contest  between  England  and  the 
United  States  was  believed  to  be  substan- 
tially decided.  Though  the  war  might  be 
kept  up  longer,  no  further  doubt  was  en- 


80 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


tertained  of  the  success  with  which  the 
revolutionists'  efforts  would  be  ultimately 
crowned.  Nor  was  it  amongst  the  small- 
est advantages  expected  from  it,  that  it 
would  probably  decide  the  uncertain  and 
balancing  politics  of  foreign  courts,  anx- 
ious to  separate  America  from  Britain,  but 
apprehensive  of  the  hazards  to  be  encount- 
ered by  taking  open  part  in  the  war.  The 
thanks  of  congress  were  voted  to  General 
Gates  and  his  army ;  and  a  medal  of  gold, 
in  commemoration  of  this  great  event,  was 
ordered  to  be  struck,  to  be  presented  to 
him  by  the  president  of  congress,  in  the 
name  of  the  United  States. 

The  effect  produced  by  this  event  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  and  in  particu- 
lar on  the  British  cabinet  and  nation,  was 
prodigious.  It  seemed  to  remove  all  the 
delusive  liopesof  easy  conquest  with  which 
the  English  had  so  long  flattered  them- 
selves, and  suddenly  to  display  in  open 
view  the  mass  of  resistance  which  had  got 
to  be  encountered.  The  previous  disasters 
of  the  American  arms  had  induced  a  be- 
lief in  Europe,  even  among  the  friends  of 
the  colonists,  that  the  cause  of  independ- 
ence could  not  succeed.  The  rapid  ad- 
vance of  Burgoyne  into  the  interior,  the 
fall  of  the  important  fortress  of  Ticonder- 
oga.  and  the  boastful  announcements  of 
victory  continually  made  by  the  British 
and  circulated  all  over  Europe,  had  pro- 
duced a  general  impression  that  the  colo- 
nists were  virtually  subdued  In  the 
midst  of  all  this,  came  the  unexpected 
and  astound! Uij  intellifjrence  that  Bur- 
goyne  and  all  his  forces  had  laid  down 
their  arms  in  submission  to  an  American 
general. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  on  which  the 
ministry  received  their  private  dispatches 
containing  the  news,  a  rumor  of  their  con- 
tents had  got  into  the  house  of  commons, 
just  as  the  members  had  assembled.  One 
of  the  members  arose,  and  with  the  most 
imperative  earnestness  of  manner  ad- 
dressed the  treasury  benches,  demanding 
what  were  tlie  accounts  from  America 
Being  compelled  to  disclose  the  mortifying 
fact,  the  chancellor  of  thq  exchequer  arose, 


and,  in  a  weak  and  faint  voice,  informed 
the  house  it  \\  as  too  true  tliat  General  Bur- 
goyne  and  his  army  were  prisoners  of  war. 

At  this  announcement,  a  storm  of  indig- 
nation, sarcasm,  reproacli  and  invective, 
was  poured  upon  the  king's  ministers  by 
the  opposition  leaders,  who  overwhelmed 
them  with  the  bitterest  declamation  on 
their  imbecility,  rashness,  and  obstinacj'. 
In  the  house  of  lords,  the  Earl  of  Chatham 
— the  foremost  man  of  the  realm — moved 
to  amend  the  address  in  answer  to  the 
speech  from  the  throne,  by  introducing  a 
clause  recommending  to  liis  majesty  an 
immediate  cessation  of  hostilities,  and  the 
commencement  of  a  treaty  of  conciliation. 
He  vehemently  condemned  the  emplo}'- 
ment  of  merciless  savages  to  wage  a  "bar- 
barous war  against  our  brethren,"  and 
was  desirous  of  peace  ( n  any  terms  short 
of  the  dismemberment  of  the  empire. 
Such,  however,  was  the  infatuation  of  the 
court  and  ministry,  that  their  hostile  plans 
were  still  persevered  in,  the  government  de- 
claring that  "if  ten  thousand  men  cannot 
conquer  America,  J?/?^  thousa?id  shall!'' 
And  with  the  help  of  strong  majorities  in 
l)arliament,  more  supplies  were  raised,  new 
troops  levied,  and  the  war  carried  on. 

The  most  important  among  the  imme- 
diate consequences  of  Burgoyne's  surren- 
der, was  the  treaty  of  alliance  between 
America  and  France.  The  communica- 
tion of  this  important  intelligence  from 
the  American  commissioners  in  France, 
diffused  extreme  joy  throughout  the  Unit- 
ed States,  being  received  by  the  people  as 
the  harbinger  of  their  independence ;  and 
in  this  they  were  not  disappointed,  for  men, 
arms,  and  money  were  liberally  supplied 
by  their  generous  ally,  until  an  acknowl- 
edgment of  that  independence  was  wrung 
from  King  George.  Such,  then,  was  the 
part  played  by  that  army  which  had  ex- 
cited such  high  expectations  in  Britain, 
and  which,  at  first,  spread  alarm  and  dis- 
may throughout  tlie  United  States.  Poor 
Burgoyne,  returning  home  on  parole,  was 
ill  received.  The  king,  petulant  and  mor- 
tified, refused  to  see  him  ;  but  he  never 
Jiad  a  more  faithful  servitor. 


III. 

FIRST  AMERICAN  NAVAL  VICTORY.— 17T9. 


John  Paul  Jones,  Commanding  the  Bon  Homme  Ricliard,  Figlits  and  Captures  King  George's  Power- 
ful Ship-of  War,  the  Serapis,  in  British  Waters. — Crowds  of  Spectators  Line  the  English  Coast. — The 
Most  Sanguinary  Battle  Ever  Fought  Between  Single  Ships. — Jones  is  Hailed  as  "The  Washington 
of  the  Seas." — World  wide  Interest  of  this  Combat — Commodore  Jones's  Early  Career — Offers  Ins 
Services  to  Congress — Appointed  a  Naval  Lieutenant — Joins  the  Continental  Fleet. — The  First  to 
Hoist  its  Ensign — Style  and  Motto  of  the  Flag — Sails  from  France  on  a  Cruise. — Terror  Created  hy 
his  Movements. — Characteristic  Anecdotes. — Two  British  Frigates  in  Sight. — Jones  Ready  for  Bloody 
Work. — Tlie  Ships  Muzzle  to  Muzzle. — Superiority  of  the  Serapis. — A  Most  Deadly  Contest. — Both 
Vessels  on  Fire  —  Jones  Attacked  by  Another  Foe. — One  of  his  Vessels  Treacherous — Remarkable 
Scenes. — Britain's  Flag  Struck  to  America. — An  Act  Without  Precedent. — Sinking  of  the  Victori- 
ous Vessel. 


'  The  mobt  obstinate  and  bloody  battle  in  the  annala  of  naval  warfare."— J.  Fenimoke  Coopeh. 


HOISTING 


UCH   an  exploit  fis   that  performed  by  John  Paul  Jones,  in  1779, 
by  which,  in  plain  siglit  of  the  English  coast,  he  flung  to  the  breeze 
the  gallant  ensign  of  the  United  States,  and,  with  Britons  as  -wit- 
nesses of  his  daring,  fought,  victoriously,  a  battle  which  has  always 
been  spoken  of  as  the  most  obstinate  and  sanguinary  combat  that 
ever  occurred  between  single  ships,  can  never  be  read  of  by  Ameri- 
■\vith  other  than  the  deepest  and  most   enthusiastic   interest.     Tlie 
ctory  came,  too,  at  one  of  the  darkest  hours  in  the  revolutionary  cam- 
n,  and  served  to   gladden  and  encourage,  for  the  time   being,  the  de- 
dent  hearts  of  honest  patriots.     The  vaunted   invincibleness  of   tlie 
i.sh  navy  became  a  by-word  of  contumely,  the  Avorld  over,  from  the 
time  Jones  nailed  his  flag  to  the  mast,  and,  under  the  calm 
sky  and  round  harvest  moon  of  September,  dealt  forth  a  storm 
of  death  and  desolation  upon  the  enemies  of  his  adopted  coun- 
try.    The  action  may  well  be  pronounced  one  of  the  most 
terrible  on  record,  from  its  unusual  duration  for  a  naval  bat- 
tle, from   the  ferocity  which  the  combatants  displayed,  and 
from  the   i)roximity  of  the  two  vessels,  the   muzzles   of  tlie 
ships'  batteries  almost  reaching  into  each  other's  i^ort-holes. 
John  Paul  Avas  born    in   Scotland,    on    the   sixth  day  of 
July,   1747,   and  the   scenery  and  associations  of  his  birth- 
place—Arbigland— and    its   vicinity,    doubtless    encouraged 
that   restless    spirit   of   adventure   and  love    of    change,    as 
well  as  that  ardent  enthusiasm  in  the   objects  of   his  pur- 
E    suit,  which  so  strikingly  characterized  his  career  through  life. 
At   the   age   of   twelve,  he  was   apprenticed   to  a  merchant 
FIRST  NAVAL  FLAG,     ^f  "Whitehavcn,  who  carried    on   a  considerable  trade  with 
6 


82 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  American  colonies.  His  first  voyage 
was  made  before  he  was  thirteen  years  old, 
being  to  Virginia,  where  his  elder  brother 
was  established  as  a  planter.  He  was  after- 
ward engaged  for  a  short  time  in  the  slave 
trade,  which  he  left  in  disgust,  and  made  a 
number  of  voyages  to  the  West  Indies. 

In  1773,  John  Paul  removed  to  Virginia, 
to  attend  to  the  affairs  of  his  brother,  who 
had  died  childless  and  intestate.  He  now, 
for  some  unknown  reason,  assumed  the  ad- 
ditional surname  of  Jones,  and  which  he 
retained  tlirough  life.  At  the  commence- 
ment of  the  revolutionary  conflict,  his  feel- 
ings became  warmly  enlisted  in  the  cause 
of  the  colonies,  and  this  spirit  fully  pre- 
pared him  for  the  active  part  he  soon  un- 
dertook in  their  behalf.  An  offer  of  his 
services,  which  he  made  to  the  colonies, 
was  accepted,  and,  on  the  twenty-second 
of  December,  1775,  by  a  resolution  of  con- 
gress, he  was  appointed  lieutenant  in  the 
American  navy. 

It  was  Lieutenant  Jones  who  hoisted, 
with  his  own  hands,  the  first  American 
naval  flag  on  board  the  American  frigate 
Alfred,  the  flag-ship,  the  national  ensign 
being  thus  for  the  first  time  displayed  from 
a  man-of-war.  The  circumstances  attend- 
ing this  interesting  occasion  are  stated  to 
liave  been  as  follows :  The  Alfred  was  an- 
chored off  the  foot  of  Walnut  street,  Phila- 
delphia. On  a  brilliant  morning,  early  in 
February,  1776,  gay  streamers  were  seen 
fluttering  from  every  mast-head  and  spar 
on  the  river  Delaware.  At  nine  o'clock,  a 
full-manned  barge  thridded  its  way  among 
tlie  floating  ice  to  the  Alfred,  bearing  the 
commodore.  He  was  greeted  by  the  thun- 
ders of  artillery  and  the  shouts  of  a  multi- 
tude. Wlien  he  reached  the  deck  of  tlie 
flag-ship,  Captain  Salstonstall  gave  a  sig- 
nal, and  Lieutenant  Jones  gallantly  pulled 
the  ropes  which  wafted  the  new  flag  mast- 
head high.  It  was  of  yellow  silk,  bearing 
the  figure  of  a  pine  tree,  and  the  signifi- 
cant device  of  a  rattlesnake  in  a  field  of 
thirteen  stripes,  with  the  ominous  legend, 
"Z)o?i7  tread  on  me.^"  This  memorable 
act,  it  was  Jones's  high  honor  and  privilege 
to  perform  when  in  his  twenty-nintli  }■  car ; 


an  honor,  too,  of  which,  as  events  afterward 
proved,  he  was  fully  worthy. 

On  the  fourteenth  of  August,  1779,  Jones 
sailed  from  the  roadstead  of  Groix,  France, 
in  command  of  a  small  squadron,  consisting 
of  the  Bon  Homme  Richard,  forty-two  guns, 
the  Alliance,  thirty-six  guns,  the  Pallas, 
thirty-two  guns,  the  Cerf,  twenty-eight 
guns,  and  the  Vengeance,  twelve  guns. 
Two  privateers  afterwards  joined  them,  but 
did  not  continue  with  them  till  the  end  of 
the  cruise.  The  efficiency  of  the  expedi- 
tion was  marred  by  a  want  of  subordination 
on  the  part  of  some  of  the  officers,  who  do 
not  appear  to  have  been  willing  to  yield 
prompt  obedience  to  orders.  Captain  Lan- 
dais,  of  the  Alliance,  habitually  disregarded 
the  signals  and  orders,  throughout  the 
cruise,  and,  towards  the  close,  committed 
acts  of  open  hostility  to  his  superior.  But, 
notwithstanding  the  difficulties  against 
which  he  had  to  contend,  Jones  inflicted 
great  damage  on  the  enemy ;  he  coasted 
Ireland,  England,  and  Scotland,  making 
many  prizes,  and  carrying  terror  wherever 
he  appeared. 

But  the  action  which  gave  the  most  dis- 
tinguishing renown  to  Jones's  brilliant  ca- 
reer, and  which  so  earl 3'^  gave  prestige  to 
American  prowess  on  the  ocean,  is  that  of 
which  a  detailed  account  is  given  below : 

It  w^as  about  noon,  on  the  twenty-third 
of  September,  1779,  a  fleet  of  over  forty 
sail  appeared  off  Flamborough  Head,  on 
the  coast  of  Yorkshire,  and  Jones  at  once 
gave  up  the  pursuit  of  a  vessel  in  whose 
track  he  was  just  then  following,  with  all 
possible  speed,  and  made  signals  for  a  gen- 
eral chase.  The  sails  in  sight  were  a  fleet 
of  English  merchantmen,  under  convoy  of 
the  ships-of-war  Serapis  and  Scarborough, 
and  as  soon  as  they  saw  themselves  pur- 
sued they  ran  in  shore,  while  their  convoys 
that  protected  them  bore  off  from  the  land 
and  prepared  for  an  engagement.  The 
Bon  Homme  Richard  set  every  stitch  of 
canvas,  but  did  not  come  into  fighting  po- 
sition toward  the  enemy  until  about  seven 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  at  which  time,  from 
the  darkness  having  set  in  somewhat,  ob- 
jects on  the  water  were  dimly  discerned^ 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


83 


tliough  not  with  such  difficulty  as  would 
have  been  the  case  had  not  the  moon 
shone  forth  with  great  brightness,  and  the 
weatiier  proved  serene  and  beautiful. 
When  within  pistol-shot,  the  hail  from  the 
Serapis,  "  What  ship  is  that  ? "  was 
answered,  "  I  can't  hear  you."  Captain 
Pearson  says  the  answer  was,  "  The  Prin- 
cess Roj^al."  A  second  hail  was  answered 
by  a  thundering  broadside  from  the  bat- 
teries of  the  Richard, — a  signal  that  in- 
dicated a  hot  and  bloody  encounter  at 
hand,  as  the  sequel  soon  proved. 

The  American  ship,  it  may  here  be  re- 
marked, was  much  inferior  to  her  antag- 
onist, being,  in  fact,  an  old  vessel,  clumsy, 
and    unmanageable.       She     carried     six 
eighteen-pounders  on  the  lower  gun  deck, 
fourteen    twelve-pounders   and    fourteen 
nine-pounders  on  the  middle  gun  deck, 
two    six-pounders    on    the    quarter-gun 
deck,  two  six-pou4iders  on  the  spar  deck, 
one  six-pounder  in  each  gangway,  and  two 
six-pounders  on  the  forecastle.     She  was 
manned   by  three   hundred  and    eighty 
men  and  boys.     The  Serapis,  on  the  other 
hand,  Avas  a  new  ship,  built  in  the  best 
manner,  and  with  a  much  heavier  arma- 
ment.     She   mounted  twenty  eighteen- 
pounders  on  her  lower  gun  deck,  twenty 
nine-pounders  on  her  upper  gun  deck,  six 
six-pounders  on  her  quarter  deck,  four 
six-pounders  on  the   forecastle  ;    and  she 
had  a  crew  of  some   three   hundred   and 
twenty  men. 

Captain  Cottineau,  of  the  Pallas,  en- 
gaged the  Scarborough,  and  took  her,  after 
an  hour's  action,  while  the  Bon  Homme 
Richard  engaged  the  Serapis. 

In  the  earlier  part  of  the  action,  the 
superior  sailing  qualities  of  the  Serapis 
enabled  her  to  take  several  advantageous 
positions,  which  the  seamanship  of  Paul 
Jones,  hampered  by  the  unmanageable 
character  of  his  craft,  did  not  enable  him 
to  prevent.  Thus  he  attempted  to  lay  his 
ship  athwart  the  enemy's  bows,  but  the 
bowsprit  of  the  Seraj^is  sweeping  over  the 
Richard's  poop,  was  grappled  and  lashed, 
and  her  stern  swung  round  to  the  bow  of  the 
Bon  Homme  Richard  by  the  action  of  the 


wind  ;  the  vessels  lay  yard-arm  and  yard- 
arm,  the  muzzles  on  either  side  actually 
touching  the  enemy.  But  long  before  this, 
many  of  the  eighteen-pound  sliot  of  the 
Serapis  had  entered  the  Richard's  hull  be- 
low the  water-mark,  and  she  leaked  in  a 
threatening  manner.  Just  before  they 
closed.  Commodore  Pearson  hailed  his  ad- 
versary :  "  Has  your  ship  struck  ?  "  "I 
have7i't  begun  to  fifjht  yet !  "  thundered 
forth  the  brave  Jones,  in  reply. 

A  novelty  in  naval  combats  was  now 
presented  to  many  witnesses,  but  few  ad- 
mirers,— says  Lieutenant  Dale,  who  par- 
ticipated in  the  conflict, — the  rammers 
being  run  into  the  respective  ships  to  en- 
able the  men  to  load  after  the  lower  ports 
of  the  Serapis  had  been  blown  away,  to 


make  room  for  running  out  their  guns, 
and  in  this  situation  the  ships  remained 
until  between  ten  and  twelve  o'clock, 
P.  M.  From  the  commencement  to  the 
termination  of  the  action,  there  was  not  a 
man  on  board  the  Richard  who  was  igno- 
rant of  the  superiority  of  the  Serapis,  both 
in  weight  of  metal,  and  in  the  qualities  of 
the  crew.  The  crew  of  that  ship  were 
picked  seamen,  and  the  ship  itself  had 
been  only  a  few  months  off  the  stocks; 
whereas  the  crew  of  the  Richard  consisted 
of  part  Americans,  English  and  French, 
and  a  part  of  Maltese,Portuguese,  and  Ma- 
lays, these  latter  contributing  by  their 
want  of  naval  skill  and  knowledge  of  the 
English  language,  to  depress  rather  than 
encourage  any  reasonable  hope  of  success 
in  a  combat  under  such  circumstances. 


84 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


85 


One  of  the  most  disheartening  facts  in 
the  early  part  of  the  action,  was  tlie  silenc- 
ing of  the  battery  of  twelve-pounders,  on 
which  Jones  had  placed  his  principal  de- 
pendence. 

Brave  and  dauntless  sailor  as  he  was, 
Jones  stuck  to  his  little  batteiy,  and  stimu- 
lated his  men  with  w^ord  and  example. 
While  one  of  the  nine-pounders  vomited 
double-headed  shot  against  the  mainmast 
of  the  Serapis,  the  two  others  swept  her 
decks  with  grape  and  canister.  The  fire 
was  so  hot  from  the  nine-pound  battery  and 
the  tops,  that  not  a  man  could  live  on  the 
deck  of  the  English  ship.  But  all  this 
while,  her  lower  battery  of  eighteen-pound- 
ers  was  making  an  awful  ruin  of  the  Rich- 
ard. The  terror  of  the  scene  was  also  soon 
heightened  beyond  the  power  of  language 
to  depict,  by  both  vessels  taking  fire,  which 
required  almost  superhuman  exertion  to 
subdue,  and,  in  the  midst  of  all,  Jones  and 
his  heroic  men  were  horror  stricken  to  see 
their  consort,  the  Alliance,  commanded  by 
Captain  Landais,  come  up  and  pour  a  full 
broadside  into  the  Richard's  stern !  The 
evidence  is  regarded  as  most  conclusive, 
that  Captain  L.'s  conduct  on  this  occasion 
was  not  due  to  any  mistake  on  his  part  in 
supposing  the  Richard  to  be  the  Serapis, 
but  to  his  personal  hostility  to  Jones. 
With  jealousy  and  treason  in  his  heart,  his 
plan  was  to  kill  Jones,  and,  capturing  the 
Serapis,  claim  the  victory  as  his.  But  the 
black-hearted  Frenchman  failed  in  his  plot. 
A  quantity'  of  cartridges  on  board  the  Ser- 
apis was  set  fire  to  by  a  grenade  from 
Jones's  ship,  and  blew  up,  killing  or  wound- 
ing all  the  officers  and  men  abaft  the  main- 
mast. But  long  after  this  the  fight  went 
on  with  fury. 

At  last,  the  mainmast  of  the  Serapis  be- 
gan to  totter  to  its  fall — her  fire  slackened, 
and,  about  half-past  ten  o'clock,  the  British 
flag  was  struck,  and  Commodore  Pearson 
surrendered  his  sword  to  his  really  weaker 
foe.  In  going  through  the  formalities  of 
this  scene,  Pearson  displayed  much  irrita- 
bility, and,  addressing  Jones  as  one  who 
fought  under  no  recognized  flag,  said : 

"  It  is  painful  to  deliver  up  ray  sword  to 


a  man  who  has  fought  with  a  halter  around 
his  neck." 

''Sir,"  replied  Jones,  good  humoredly, 
as  he  handed  back  the  weapon,  "you  have 
fought  like  a  hero,  and  I  make  no  doubt 
but  your  sovereign  will  reward  you  in  the 
most  ample  manner." 

True  enough,  the  gallant  Pearson  soon 
received  from  King  George  the  dignity  of 
knighthood  as  an  acknowledgment  of  his 
bravery  in  this  unparalleled  battle, — hear- 
ing of  which  honor,  Jones  is  said  to  have 
dryly  remarked  :  "  Well,  he  deserved  it ; 
and  should  I  have  the  good  fortune  to 
meet  with  him  again,  I  will  make  a  lord 
of  him ! " 

Another  episode  occurred  in  connection 
wath  a  medical  officer, — the  surgeon  of  the 
Richard, — who  ran  up  from  the  cock-pit, 
in  great  fright  and  trepidation,  and  hur- 
riedly accosting  the  captain,  said :  "Are  you 
not  going  to  strike  the  colors  ?  Is  not  the 
ship  fast  sinldng  ?  "  "  What !  doctor,"  re- 
plied Jones,  "  would  you  have  me  strike  to 
a  drop  of  water  ?  Here,  help  me  get  this 
gun  over  !  "  The  doctor,  as  though  answer- 
ing a  sudden  professional  call,  was  soon 
retracing  his  steps  to  the  cock-pit. 

So  terribly  w^as  the  Richard  cut  to  pieces 
(being  an  old  ship),  that  it  was  found  im- 
possible, after  the  fight,  to  get  her  into 
port,  and,  the  w'ounded  being  removed,  she 
soon  after  sank. 

Jones  took  his  prizes  to  Holland,  and  it 
is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  the  whole 
world  stood  astonished  at  his  bravery  and 
success. 

A  most  interesting  account  of  this  cele- 
brated battle  between  the  Serapis  and 
Richard  w-as  given,  soon  after  its  occur- 
rence, by  Commodore  Jones  himself,  a 
portion  of  which,  describing  in  his  own 
dramatic  style,  the  principal  scenes  during 
the  engagement,  is  given  below : 

On  the  morning  of  that  daj^,  September 
twenty-third,  the  brig  from  Holland  not  be- 
ing in  sight,  we  chased  abrigantine  that  ap- 
peared'laying  to,  to  windward.  About 
noon,  we  saw  and  chased  a  large  ship  that 
appeared  coming  round  Flamborough  Head 
from  the  northward,  and  at  the  same  time 


86 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


I  manned  and  armed  one  of  the  pilot  boats 
to  send  in  pursuit  of  the  brigantine,  which 
now  appeared  to  be  the  vessel  that  I  had 
forced  ashore.  Soon  after  this,  a  fleet  of 
forty-one  sail  appeared  off  Flamborough 
Head,  bearing  N.  N.  E.  This  induced  me 
to  abandon  the  single  ship  which  had  then 
anchored  in  Burlington  Bay  ;  I  also  called 
back  the  pilot  boat,  and  hoisted  a  signal 
for  a  general  chase.  When  the  fleet  dis- 
•covered  us  bearing  down,  all  the  merchant 
^hips  crowded  sail  toward  the  shore.  The 
.two  ships-of-war  that  protected  the  fleet  at 
the  same  time  steered  from  the  land,  and 
made  the  disposition  for  battle.  In  ap- 
proaching the  ene,my,  I  crowded  every  pos- 
sible sail,  and  made  the  signal  for  the  line 
•of  battle,  to  which  the  Alliance  paid  no  at- 
tention. Earnest  as  I  was  for  the  action, 
I  could  not  reach  the  commodore's  ship 
ointil  seven  in  the  evening,  being  tlien 
•within  pistol-shot,  when  he  hailed  the  Bon 
Homme  Richard.  We  answered  him  by 
tiring  a  whole  broadside. 

The  battle  being  thus  begun,  was  con- 
tinued with  unremitting  fury.  Every 
method  was  practiced  on  both  sides  to  gain 
iin  advantage  and  rake  each  other ;  and  I 
must  confess  that  the  enemy's  ship,  being 
much  more  manageable  than  the  Bon 
Homme  Richard,  gained  thereby  several 
times  an  advantageous  situation,  in  spite 
of  my  best  endeavors  to  prevent  it.  As  I 
]iad  to  deal  witli  an  enemy  of  greatly  su- 
])erior  force,  I  was  under  tlie  necessity  of 
closing  with  him,  to  prevent  the  advantage 
which  he  liad  over  me  in  point  of  ma- 
neuver. It  was  my  intention  to  lay  the 
Bon  Homme  Richard  athwart  the  enemy's 
bow  ;  but  as  that  operation  required  great 
dexterity  in  the  management  of  both  sails 
and  helm,  and  some  of  our  braces  being 
shot  away,  it  did  not  exactly  succeed  to  my 
wish.  The  enemy's  bowsprit,  however, 
came  over  the  Bon  Homme  Richard's  poop, 
by  the  mizzenmast,  and  I  made  both  ships 
fast  together  in  that  situation,  which  by 
the  action  of  the  wind  on  the  enemy's  sails, 
forced  lier  stern  close  to  the  Bon  Homme 
Richard's  bow,  so  tliat  the  ships  lay  square 
alongside  of  each  other,  the  yards  being 


all  entangled,  and  the  cannon  of  each  ship 
touching  the  opponent's. 

I  directed  the  fire  of  one  of  the  three 
cannon  against  the  mainmast,  with  dou- 
ble-headed shot,  while  the  other  two  were 
exceedingly  well  served  with  grape  and 
canister  shot,  to  silence  the  enemy's  mus- 
ketry and  clear  her  decks,  which  was  at 
last  effected.  The  enemy  were,  as  I  have 
since  understood,  on  the  instant  of  calling 
for  quarter,  when  the  cowardice  or  treach- 
ery of  three  of  my  under-officers  induced 
them  to  call  to  the  enemy.  The  English 
commodore  asked  me  if  I  demanded  quar- 
ter, and  I,  having  answered  him  in  the 
most  determined  negative,  they  renewed 
the  battle  with  double  fury.  They  were 
unable  to  stand  the  deck ;  but  the  fire  of 
their  cannon,  especially  the  lower  battery, 
which  was  entirely  formed  of  ten-pound- 
ers, was  incessant ;  both  ships  were  set  on 
fire  in  various  places,  and  the  scene  Avas 
dreadful  beyond  the  reach  of  language. 
To  account  for  the  timidity  of  my  three 
under-officers,  I  mean  the  gunner,  the  car- 
penter, and  the  master-at-arms,  I  must 
observe,  that  the  two  first  were  slightl}'- 
wounded,  and,  as  the  ship  liad  received 
various  shots  under  the  water,  and  one  of 
the  pumps  being  shot  away,  the  carpenter 
expressed  his  fears  that  she  would  sink, 
and  the  other  two  concluded  that  she  was 
sinking,  which  occasioned  the  gunner  to 
run  aft  on  the  poop,  without  my  knowl- 
edge, to  strike  the  colors.  Fortunately  for 
me,  a  cannon-ball  hnd  done  that  before,  by 
carrying  away  the  ensign-staff;  he  was 
therefore  reduced  to  the  necessit}''  of  sink- 
ing, as  he  supposed,  or  of  calling  for  quar- 
ter, and  he  jjreferred  the  latter. 

All  this  time  the  Bon  Homme  Richard 
had  sustained  the  action  alone,  and  the 
enemy,  though  much  superior  in  force, 
would  have  been  very  glad  to  have  got 
clear,  as  appears  by  their  own  acknowledg- 
ments, and  by  their  having  let  go  an  an- 
chor the  instant  that  I  laid  them  on  board, 
by  which  means  they  would  have  escaped, 
had  I  not  made  them  fast  to  the  Bon 
Homme  Richard. 

At  last,  at  half-past  nine  o'clock,  the  Al- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


87 


Hance  appeared,  and  I  now  thought  the 
battle  at  an  end  ;  but,  to  my  utter  aston- 
ishment, he  discharged  a  broadside  full 
into  the  stern  of  the  l>on  Homme  Richard. 
We  called  to  him  for  God's  sake  to  forbear 
firing  into  the  Bon  Homme  Richard;  yet 
they  passed  along  the  off  side  of  the  ship, 
and  continued  firing.  There  was  no  pos- 
sibility of  his  mistaking  the  enemy's  ship 
for  the  Bon  Homme  Richard,  there  being 
the  most  essential  difference  in  their  ap- 
pearance and  construction.  Besides,  it  was 
then  full  moonlight.  The  Bon  Homme 
Richard  received  various  shots  under  wa- 
ter from  the  Alliance;  the  leak  gained  on 
the  pumps,  and  tlie  lire  increased  much  on 
board  both  ships.     Some  officers  persuaded 


me  to  strike,  of  whose  courage  and  good 
sense  I  entertain  a  high  opinion.  My 
treacherous  master-at-arms  let  loose  all  my 
prisoners  without  my  knowledge,  and  my 
prospects  became  gloomy  indeed.  I  would 
not,  however,  give  up  the  point.  The  ene- 
my's mainmast  began  to  shake,  their  firing 
decreased  fast,  ours  rather  increased,  and 
the  British  coloi'S  were  struck  at  half  an 
hour  past  ten  o'clock. 

This  prize  proved  to  be  the  British  ship- 
of-war,  the  Serapis,  a  new  ship  of  fort}-- 
four  guns,  built  on  the  most  approved  con- 
struction, with  two  complete  batteries,  one 
of  them  of  eighteen-pounders,  and  com- 
manded by  the  brave  Commodore  Richard 
Pearson. 


88 


OUE  riKST  CENT  UK  Y.— 1776-1876. 


IV. 


THE   WONDERFUL   DARK  DAY.— 1780. 


The  Northern  States  wrapt  in  a  Dense  Black  Atmosphere  for  Fifteen  Hours. — The  Day  of  Judgment 
Supposed  to  have  Come — Cessation  of  Labor. —  ReHgious  Devotions  Resorted  to. —  Tlie  Herds 
Retire  to  tiieir  Stalls,  the  Fowls  to  their  Roosts,  and  the  Birds  Sing  their  Evening  Songs  at  Noonday.— 
Science  at  Loss  to  Account  for  the  Mysterious  Phenomenon.— One  of  Nature's  Marvels. — Redness  of 
the  Sun  and  Moon.— Approach  of  a  Thick  Vapor.— Loud  Peals  of  Thunder.— Sudden  and  Strange 
Darkness. — Alarm  of  the  Inhabitants. — End  of  the  World  Looked  For —Dismay  of  the  Brute  Crea- 
tion.—An  Intensely  Deep  Gloom.— Difficulty  in  Attending  to  Business.— Lights  Burning  in  the 
Houses — Vast  Extent  of  the  Occurrence. — Condition  of  the  Barometer.- Change  in  the  Color  of 
Objects.— Quick  Motion  of  the  Clouds  —Birds  Suffocate  and  Die.— The  Sun's  Disc  Seen  in  Some 
Places. — Oily  Deposit  on  the  Waters. — Impenetrable  Darkness  at  Night. — Incidents  and  Anecdotes. — 
Ignorant  Whims  and  Conjectures. — An  Unsolved  Mystery. 


"  The  Dark  riay  in  northern  America  was  one  of  those  wonderful  phenomena  of  nature  which  will  always  be  read  of  with  interest,  but 
which  philosophy  is  at  a  loss  to  explain."— Uerscuel. 


UlFKIcrLTY   OF    i  KWELIXG. 


^"■v!:ii 


LMOST,  if  not  altogether  alone,  as  tlie  most 
mysterious  and  as  yet  unexplained  phenome- 
non of  its  kind,  in  nature's  diversified  range  of 
events,  during   the    last   century,    stands    the 
Dark  Dajj  of  May  Nineteenth,  1780, — a  most 
unaccountable  darkening  of  the  whole  visible 
heavens   and  atmosphere  in  New  England, — 
which  brought  intense    alarm  and  distress  to 
multitudes  of  minds,  as  well  as  dismay  to  the 
brute  creation,  the  fowls  fleeing,  bewildered,  to 
their  roosts,  and  the  birds  to  their  nests,  and 
the  cattle   returning  to  their   stalls.     Indeed, 
thousands  of  the  good  people  of  that  day^  be- 
came fully  convinced  that  the  end  of  all  things 
terrestrial  had  come;  many  gave  up,  for  the 
time,  their  secular  pursuits,  and  betook  them- 
selves to  religious  devotions  ;  while  many  others  regarded 
the    darkness  as  not  only  a  token  of   God's   indignation 
against  the  various  iniquities  and  abominations  of  the  age, 
but  also  as  an  omen  of  some  future  destruction  that  might 
overwhelm  the  land— as  in  the  case  of  the  countries  men- 
tioned in  biblical  liistory,— unless  speedy  repentance  and 


90 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


reformation  took  place.  The  ignorant  in- 
dulo-ed  in  vague  and  wild  conjectures  as 
to  the  cause  of  tlie  phenomenon ;  and 
those  profounder  minds,  even,  that  could 
"gauge  the  heavens  and  tell  the  stars," 
were  about  equally  at  loss  for  any  rational 
explanation  of  the  event.  It  is  related 
that  the  Connecticut  legislature  was  in 
session  at  this  time,  and  that,  so  great  was 
the  darkness,  the  members  became  terri- 
fied, and  thought  that  the  day  of  judg- 
ment had  come ;  a  motion  was  conse- 
quently made  to  adjourn.  At  this,  Mr. 
Davenport  arose  and  said:  ''Mr.  Speaker, 
— It  is  either  the  day  of  judgment,  or  it 
is  not.  If  it  is  not,  there  is  no  need  of 
adjourning.  If  it  is,  I  desire  to  be  found 
doing  my  duty.  I  move  that  candles  be 
brought,  and  that  we  proceed  to  business." 
The  time  of  the  commencement  of  this 
extraordinary  darkness  was  between  the 
hours  of  ten  and  eleven  in  the  forenoon  of 
Friday,  of  the  date  already  named;  and  it 
continued  until  the  middle  of  the  follow- 
ing night,  but  with  different  appearances 
at  different  places.  As  to  the  manner  of 
its  approach,  it  seemed  to  appear  first  of 
all  in  the  south-west.  The  wind  came 
from  that  quarter,  and  the  darkness  ap- 
peared to  come  on  with  the  clouds  that 
■came  in  that  direction.  The  degree  to 
wliich  the  darkness  arose  varied  in  differ- 
ent localities.  In  most  parts,  it  became  so 
dense,  that  people  were  unable  to  read 
common  print  distinctly,  or  accurately  de- 
termine the  time  of  day  by  their  clocks  or 
watches,  or  dine,  or  manage  their  domes- 
tic affairs  conveniently,  without  the  light 
of  candles.  In  some  places,  the  degree  of 
darkness  was  just  about  equal  to  prevent- 
ing persons  seeing  to  read  ordinary  print 
in  the  open  air,  for  several  hours  together. 
The  extent  of  this  darkness  was  also  very 
remarkable.  It  was  observed  at  the  most 
easterly  regions  of  New  England;  west- 
ward, to  the  furthest  parts  of  Connecticut, 
and  at  Albany;  to  the  southward,  it  was 
observed  all  along  the  sea  coasts ;  and  to 
the  north,  as  far  as  the  American  settle- 
ments extended.  It  probably  far  exceeded 
these  boundaries,  but  the  exact  limits  were 


never  positively  known.  With  regard  to 
its  duration,  it  continued  in  tlie  neighbor- 
hood of  Boston  for  at  least  fourteen  or  fif- 
teen hours ;  but  it  was  doubtless  longer  or 
shorter  in  some  other  jilaces.  The  appear- 
ance and  effects  were  such  as  tended  to 
make  the  prosj)ect  extremely  dull,  gloomy, 
and  unnatural.  Candles  were  lighted  up 
in  the  houses;  the  birds,  in  the  midst 
of  their  blithesome  forenoon  enjoyments, 
stopped  suddenly,  and,  singing  their  even- 
ing songs,  disappeared,  and  became  si- 
lent; the  fowls  retired  to  their  roosts  ;  the 
cocks  were  crowing  in  their  accustomed 
manner  at  the  break  of  day;  objects  could 
not  be  distinguished  at  a  comparatively 
slight  distance ;  and  everything  bore  the 
aspect  and  gloom  of  night, — to  say  noth- 
ing of  the  effect  upon  the  minds  of  the 
peojile,  which,  indeed,  was  quite  inde- 
scribable. 

The  above  general  facts  concerning  this 
strange  phenomenon  were  ascertained, 
after  much  painstaking  inquiry,  soon 
after  its  occurrence,  by  Prof.  Williams,  of 
Harvard  College,  who  also  collected  to- 
gether some  of  the  more  particular  ob- 
servations made  in  different  j^arts  of  the 
country,  relative  to  the  remarkable  event. 
From  these  data  it  appears  that,  with  re- 
gard to  the  state  of  the  atmosphere  pre- 
ceding this  uncommon  darkness,  it  was 
noticed  in  many  sections,  for  several  days 
before,  that  the  air  seemed  to  be  of  a 
smoky  and  vaporous  character.  The  sun 
and  the  moon  exhibited  an  unusual  red- 
ness in  their  color,  and  divested  of  their 
usual  briglitness  and  lucid  aspect;  and 
this  obscuration  increased  as  they  ap- 
proached nearer  to  the  horizon.  This 
was  ascertained  to  have  been  the  case  in 
almost  all  parts  of  the  New  England 
states,  for  four  or  five  days  preceding  the 
nineteenth  of  May.  The  winds  had  been 
variable,  but  chiefly  from  the  south-west 
and  north-east.  The  thermometer  indi- 
cated from  forty  to  fifty-five  degrees.  The 
barometer  showed  a  somewhat  higher  range 
than  usual.  The  weather  had  been  fair 
and  cool  for  the  season. 

As  to  the  state  of  the  atmosphere  when 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


91 


the  darkness  came  on,  it  was  observable 
that  the  weight  or  gravity  of  it  was  grad- 
ually decreasing,  the  greater  part  of  the 
day.  According  to  the  observations  made 
at  Cambridge,  Mass.,  the  mercury  in  the 
barometer  was  found,  at  twelve  o'clock,  to 
stand  at  twenty-nine  inches,  seventy ;  in 
half  an  hour  after,  the  mercury  had  fallen 
the  one-hundredth  part  of  an  inch  ;  at  one 
o'clock,  it  was  twenty-nine  inches,  sixty- 
seven  ;  at  three  o'clock,  it  was  at  twenty- 
nine  inches,  sixty-five ;  at  eight  minutes 
past  eight,  it  was  at  twenty-nine  inches, 
sixty-four.  A  similar  course  of  barometri- 
cal observations  made,  at  the  same  time, 
in  another  part  of  the  state,  showed  as  fol- 
lows :  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the 
mercury  in  the  barometer  was  found  to  be 
at  twenty-nine  inches,  eighty-two  ;  as  soon 
as  the  darkness  began  to  appear  uncom- 
mon, that  is,  at  ten  minutes  past  ten,  the 
mercury  was  found  at  twenty-nine  inches, 
sixty-eight ;  at  quarter  before  eleven — the 
time  of  the  greatest  degree  of  darkness  in 
that  part  of  the  country — the  mercury  was 
at  twenty-nine  inches,  sixty-seven,  the 
darkness  continuing  in  the  same  degree 
for  an  hour  and  a  half ;  at  fifteen  minutes 
past  twelve,  the  mercury  had  fallen  to 
twent^'-nine  inches,  sixty-five,  and,  in  a 
few  minutes  after  this,  the  darkness  began 
to  abate  ;  the  mercury  remained  in  this 
state  during  the  whole  evening,  without 
any  sensible  alteration.  At  half-past 
eight,  it  seemed  to  have  fallen  a  little,  but 
so  small  was  the  alteration,  that  it  was  at- 
tended with  some  uncertainty,  nor  did  it 
appear  to  stand  any  lower  three  hours 
later. 

From  these  observations,  it  is  certain 
that,  on  the  day  when  the  darkness  took 
place,  the  weight  or  gravity  of  the  atmos- 
phere was  gradually  decreasing  through 
the  whole  day.  Both  of  the  barometers 
in  use  were  instruments  of  superior  work- 
manship, and  consequently  to  be  depended 
on  as  to  the  accuracy  of  their  indications. 

The  color  of  objects  that  day,  is  another 
point  of  interest.  It  is  mentioned,,  in  the 
record  of  observations  made  with  reference 
to   this   feature  of  the  phenomenon,  that 


the  complexion  of  the  clouds  was  com- 
pounded of  a  faint  red,  yellow  ;ui<l  brown, 
— that,  during  the  darkness,  objects  which 
commonly  appear  green,  were  of  the  deep- 
est green,  verging  to  blue, — and  that  those 
which  appear  white,  were  highly  tinged 
with  yellow.  This  was  the  character  of 
the  observations,  as  given  by  almost  every 
one  who  made  any  record  of  the  day's  ap- 
pearance. But  Prof.  Williams  states  that, 
to  him,  almost  every  object  appeared  tinged 
with  yellow,  rather  than  with  any  other 
color;  and  this,  whether  the  thing  was 
near,  or  remote  from  the  eye. 

Another  element  of  peculiarity,  in  this 
remarkable  scene,  was  the  nature  and  ap- 
l^earance  of  the  vapors  that  were  then  in 
the  atmosphere.  Early  in  the  morning, 
the  weather  was  cloudy  ;  the  sun  was  but 
just  visible  through  the  clouds,  and  ap- 
peared of  a  deep  red,  as  it  had  for  several 
days  before.  In  most  places  thunder  was 
heard  a  number  of  times  in  the  morning. 
The  clouds  soon  began  to  rise  from  the 
south-west,  with  a  gentle  breeze,  and  there 
were  several  small  showers  before  eight 
o'clock  ;  in  some  places  there  were  showers 
at  other  hours,  throughout  the  day.  The 
water  that  fell  was  found  to  have  an  un- 
usual character,  being  thick,  dark,  and 
sooty.  One  observer,  in  the  eastern  part 
of  Massachusetts,  states,  in  this  connec- 
tion, that  the  strange  appearance  and 
smell  of  the  rain-water  which  people  had 
saved  in  tubs,  was  the  subject  of  universal 
and  wondering  remark.  On  examining 
the  water,  there  was  found  a  light  scum 
upon  it,  which,  on  being  rubbed  between 
the  thumb  and  finger,  seemed  to  resemble 
the  black  ashes  of  burnt  leaves  ;  the  water 
also  gave  the  same  strong,  sootj^  smell, 
which  characterized  the  air.  A  similar 
appearance,  in  this  respect,  manifested 
itself  in  other  localities;  it  was  especially 
exhibited  on  the  Merrimac  river,  large 
quantities  of  black  scum  being  seen  float- 
ing upon  the  surface  of  that  stream,  dur- 
ing the  day.  In  the  night,  the  wind 
veered  round  to  the  north-east,  and  drove 
this  substance  towards  the  south  shore; 
when    the    tide    fell,   the    matter    lay   for 


92 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


many  miles  along  the  shore,  the  width  of 
the  deposit  being  some  four  or  five  inches. 
An  examination  of  a  considerable  quantity 
of  tliis  substance,  in  several  places,  failed 
to  show  anything  of  a  sulphurous  nature, 
eithei-  in  its  taste,  color,  oi-  smell.  Prof. 
"Williams  states  that,  being  apprehensive 
as  to  wliether  there  was  not  some  uncom- 
mon ingredient  in  the  air  that  daj^,  he  put 
out  several  sheets  of  clean  paper  in  the  air 
and  rain.  When  they  liad  been  out  four  or 
five  hours,  he  dried  them  by  the  fire.  They 
were  much  subied,  and  became  dark  in 
their  color,  and  felt  as  if  the}^  had  been 
rubbed  with  oil  or  grease  ;  but.  upon  burn- 
ing them,  there  could  not  be  detected  any 
sulpliurous  or  nitrous  particles. 

The  motion  and  situation  of  the  cur- 
rents or  bodies  of  vapor  in  the  atmosphere 
likewise  exhibited  some  striking  peculiar- 
ities. In  most  jilaces,  it  was  very  evident 
that  the  vapors  were  descending  from  the 
higher  parts  of  the  atmosphere  towards 
the  surface  of  the  earth.  A  gentleman 
wlio  made  some  special  observations  bear- 
ing upon  this  point,  mentions  a  very  curi- 
ous circumstance,  as  to  their  ascent  and 
situation,  namely,  that  at  about  nine 
o'clock  in  tlie  morning,  after  a  shower, 
the  vapors  rose  from  tlie  springs  in  the 
low  lands,  in  great  abundance.  Notice 
was  taken  of  one  large  column  that  as- 
cended, with  great  rapidity,  to  a  consid- 
erable height  above  the  highest  hills,  and 
soon  spread  into  a  large  cloud,  then  moved 
off  a  little  to  the  westward.  A  second 
cloud  was  formed  in  tlie  same  manner, 
from  the  same  springs,  but  did  not  ascend 
so  high  as  the  first;  and  a  third  was 
formed  from  the  same  places,  in  less  than 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  the  second. 
About  three-quarters  of  an  hour  after 
nine  o'clock,  these  clouds  exhibited  a  very 
striking  appearance.  The  upjier  cloud 
wore  a  peculiar  reddish  hue;  the  second 
showed  in  some  places  or  parts  a  green,  in 
others  a  blue,  and  in  others  an  indigo 
color;  while  the  surface  of  the  third  cloud 
was  almost  white. 

Of  a  somewhat  singular  nature,  also,  is 
the  fact,  as  related  by  another,  that,  while 


the  darkness  continued,  the  clouds  were  in 
quick  motion,  interrupted,  skirted  one  over 
another,  so  as  to  form — at  least  to  the  eye 
of  the  beholder — a  considerable  number  of 
strata,  the  lower  stratum  being  of  an  uni- 
form height  as  far  as  visible;  but  this  height 
was  conceived  to  be  very  slight,  from  the 
small  extent  of  the  horizon  that  could  be 
seen,  and  from  this  circumstance  observed 
in  the  evening.  A  lighted  torch,  held  by 
a  person  passing  along  the  street,  occa- 
sioned a  reflection  of  a  faint  red  or  copper- 
tinged  light  —  similar  to  a  faint  aurora 
borealis,  —  the  apparent  height  at  which 
the  reflection  was  made,  being  some  twenty 
to  thirty  feet.  And  it  was  generally  re- 
marked, that  the  hills  might  be  seen  at  a 
distance  in  some  directions,  while  the  in- 
termediate spaces  were  greatly  obscured 
or  darkened. 

It  would  thus  appear,  from  the  state- 
ments now  cited,  as  if  the  vapors,  in  some 
places,  were  ascending ;  in  most,  descend- 
ing; and,  in  all,  very  near  to  the  surface 
of  the  earth.  To  this  it  may  be  added, 
that,  during  the  darkness,  objects  seem- 
ingly cast  a  shade  in  every  direction,  and, 
in  many  instances,  there  were  various 
appearances  or  corruscations  in  the  atmos- 
phere, not  unlike  the  aurora  borealis, — 
though  it  is  not  stated  that  any  uncom- 
mon exhibitions  of  the  electric  fire  were 
witnessed  during  the  day.  In  some  ac- 
counts, however,  it  is  mentioned  that  a 
number  of  small  birds  were  found  suffo- 
cated by  the  vapor ;  some  were  found  dead, 
and  some  flew  affrighted,  or  stupefied,  into 
the  houses. 

In  New  Haven,  Conn.,  there  w^as  a 
shower  of  rain,  with  some  lightning  and 
thunder,  about  daybreak  in  the  morning, 
the  rain  continuing,  with  intervaLs,  until 
after  sunrise.  The  morning  Avas  cloudy 
and  darkish;  and  the  sun,  rising  towards 
the  zenith,  gave  no  increase  of  light,  as 
usual,  but,  on  the  contrary,  the  darkness 
continued  to  increase  until  between  eleven 
and  twelve  o'clock,  at  which  time  there 
was  the  greatest  obscurity  in  that  place. 
"What  little  motion  of  the  air  there  was 
just  at  this   period,  was  nearly  from   the 


GREAT  AND  MEMOKABLE  EVENTS. 


93 


south  ;  tliougli  the  atmosijhere  was  as  calm 
as  the  bhiiulest  suminei-  inoniing.  Tlicro 
was  sonu'tliinir  inoro  of  a  luminous  appear- 
ance in  the  horizon,  tluiu  in  tlie  hcmi- 
sphei'e  in  general;  also,  a  most  nuTrlced 
liveliness  of  tint  to  the  grass  and  other 
green  vegetation ;  and  a  very  noticeable 
yellowness  in  the  atmosphere,  wliicli  made 
clean  silver  nearly  resemble  the  color  of 
brass.  At  about  twelve  o'clock,  noon,  tlie 
singular  obscuration  ceased ;  the  greatest 
darkness,  at  any  particular  time,  was  at 
least  as  dense  as  what  is  commonly  called 
'  candlelighting,'  in  the  evening.  In  the 
town  of  Hartford,  and  the  neighboring 
villages,  the  phenomenon  was  observed 
with  all  its  distinctive  peculiarities ;  and, 
by  some  i>er.-;ons,  the  disc  of  the  sun  was 
seen,  at  the  time  of  the  greatest  deficiency 
of  light. 


su(;h  buildings.  At  twelve,  the  darkness 
was  greatest,  and  a  little  rain  fell ;  in  tlie 
street,  the  aspect  was  like  that  at  the  be- 
ginning of  evening,  as  lights  were  seen 
burning  in  all  the  houses.  The  clouds 
Avere  thinnest  at  the  north;  at  the  nortli- 
east,  the  clouds  were  A'ery  thick,  and  so 
low  that  hills  could  not  be  seen  at  the  dis- 
tance of  half  a  mile ;  south-westerly,  hills 
might  be  clearly  seen  at  the  distance  of 
twenty  miles,  though  the  intermediate 
space  was  so  shaded  that  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  distingui.^h  woodland  from  pa-ture. 
At  half-past  twelve,  tlie  clouds,  having 
been  hitherto  detached,  began  to  concen- 
trate at  such  an  height,  that  all  the  hills 
became  visible,  and  the  country  around 
exhibited  a  most  beautiful  tinted  verdure  ; 
at  one,  the  clouds  became  uniformly 
spread,  and  the  darkness  was  not  greater 


CHANGE  OF  SCENE  AFTER  THE  DARK  DAY. 


In  Middlesex  county,  Mass  ,  the  peals 
of  thunder  were  loud  and  frequent  at  six 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  attended  with 
heavy  rain ;  at  seven  o'clock,  the  rain  and 
thunder  had  ceased,  but  the  sky  contin- 
ued cloudy.  I'etween  nine  and  ten  o'clock, 
the  clouds  were  observed  to  thicken,  and 
to  receive  continual  accessions  from  the 
low  lands.  Before  ten,  the  darkness  had 
sensibly  increased,  till  it  became  difficult 
to  read  an  almanac  in  a  room  having  two 
windows ;  at  eleven  o'clock,  candles  were 
lighted,  and  at  half-past  eleven  the  dark- 
ness was  so  great  in  the  meeting-house, 
where  a  court  Avas  then  sitting,  that  it 
was  difficult  to  distinguish  countenances 
at  the  smallest  distance,  notwithstanding 
the   large  number   of  windows   usual   in 


than  is  usual  on  a  cloudy  day.  The  same 
weather  continued  through  the  whole 
afternoon,  except  that  the  sun  was  seen 
for  a  few  minutes,  in  some  places,  about 
three  o'clock.  At  eight  in  the  evening, 
the  darkness  was  so  impenetrably  thick, 
as  to  render  traveling  positively  imprac- 
ticable ;  and,  altliongh  the  moon  rose 
nearly  full  about  nine  o'clock,  yet  it  did 
not  give  light  enough  to  enable  a  person 
to  distinguish  between  the  heavens  and 
the  earth. 

In  the  account  of  this  phenomenon  given 
by  Dr.  Tenney,  of  New  Hampshire,  an  in- 
telligent observer  and  writer,  are  some 
interesting  details,  gathered  by  him  while 
on  a  journey  to  Pennsylvania,  from  the 
east.     He  repeats  and  confirms  the  state- 


94 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ment  made  by  others,  that,  previously  to 
the  commencement  of  the  darkness,  the 
sky  was  overcast  with  the  common  kind 
of  clouds,  from  which  there  was,  in  some 
places,  a  moderate  fall  of  rain.  Between 
these  and  the  eartli,  there  intervened  an- 
other stratum,  apparently  of  great  thick- 
ness ;  as  this  stratum  advanced,  the  dark- 
ness commenced,  and  increased  witli  its 
progress  till  it  came  to  its  height,  which 
did  not  take  place  till  the  hemisphere 
was  a  second  time  overspread — the  uncom- 
mon thickness  of  this  second  stratum  bo- 
ing  probably  occasioned  by  two  strong  cur- 
rents of  wind  from  tlie  southward  and 
westward,  condensing  the  vapors  and 
drawing  them  to  the  north-east. 

The  result  of  Dr.  Tenney's  journey, — 
during  which  he  made  the  best  use  of  his 
opportunities  for  information, — was,  that 
the  darkness  appeared  to  be  most  gross  in 
Essex  county,  Massachusetts,  tlie  lower 
part  of  the  state  of  New  Hampshire,  and 
in  portions  of  what  was  then  the  province 
of  Maine.  In  Rhode  Island  and  Connect- 
icut it  was  not  so  great,  and  still  less  in 
New  York;  in  New  Jersey,  the  second 
stratum  of  clouds  was  observed,  but  it  was 
not  of  any  great  thickness,  nor  was  the 
darkness  very  uncommon ;  in  the  lower 
parts  of  Pennsylvania,  no  extraordinary 
scene  was  noticed. 

Through  the  whole  extent  of  country 
referred  to,  tlie  lower  cloud-stratum  had 
an  uncommon  brassy  hue,  while  the  earth 
and  trees  were  adorned  with  so  enchant- 
ing a  verdure  as  couhl  not  escape  notice, 
even  amidst  the  unusual  atmosplieric 
glooui  that  accompanied  it.  The  dark- 
ness of  the  following  evening  was  proba- 
bly as  deep  and  dense  as  ever  had  been  ob- 
served since  the  Almighty  fiat  gave  birth 
to  light;  it  wanted  only  palpability  to  ren- 
der it  as  extraordinary  as  that  whicli  over- 
spread the  land  of  Egypt,  in  tlie  days  of 
Moses.  If  every  luminous  body  in  tlie 
universe  had  been  shrouded  in  impenetra- 
ble shades,  or  struck  out  of  existence,  it 
was  thought  the  darkness  could  not  liave 
been  more  complete.  A  sheet  of  wliite 
paper,   held    within  a   few   inches   of    the 


eyes,  was  equally  invisible  with  the  black- 
est velvet.  And,  considering  the  small 
quantity  of  light  that  was  transmitted 
by  the  clouds,  during  the  day,  it  is  not 
surprising  tliat,  at  night,  a  sufficient  quan- 
tity of  rays  should  not  be  able  to  j^enetrate 
the  same  strata,  brought  back  by  tha  shift- 
ing of  tlie  winds,  to  afford  the  most  ob- 
scure prospect  even  of  the  best  reflecting 
bodies.  The  denseness  of  this  evening 
darkness  was  a  fact  universally  observed 
and  recorded. 

In  view  of  all  the  information  contained 
in  the  various  accounts  of  this  day,  it  ap- 
pears very  certain  that  the  atmosphere 
was  charged  with  an  unprecedented  quan- 
tity of  vapor, — from  what  primary  cause 
has  never  been  satisfactorily  determined; 
and  as  the  weather  had  been  clear,  the  air 
heavy,  and  the  winds  small  and  variable 
for  many  days,  the  vapors,  instead  of  dis- 
persing, must  have  been  constantly  rising 
and  collecting  in  the  air,  until  the  atmos- 
phere became  higlily  charged  with  them. 

A  large  quantity  of  the  vapors,  thus 
collected  in  the  atmosphere,  on  the  day  in 
question,  was  floating  near  the  surface  of 
the  earth.  Wheresoever  tlie  specific  grav- 
ity of  any  vapor  is  less  than  the  specific 
gravity  of  the  air,  such  a  vapor  will,  by 
the  law  of  fluids,  ascend  in  the  air ;  where 
the  specific  gravity  of  a  vapor,  in  the  at- 
mosphere, is  greater  than  that  of  the  air, 
such  a  vapor  will  descend ;  and  where  the 
specific  gravity  of  the  vapor  and  air  are 
the  same,  the  vapor  will  then  be  at  rest, — 
floating  or  swimming  in  the  atmosphere, 
without  ascending  or  descending.  From 
the  barometrical  observations,  it  appears 
that  the  weight  or  gravity  of  the  atmos- 
phere was  gradually  growing  less,  from 
the  morning  of  the  nineteenth  of  May, 
until  the  evening ;  and  hence  the  vapors, 
in  most  places,  were  descending  from  the 
higher  parts  of  the  atmosphere,  towards 
the  surface  of  the  earth.  According  to 
one  of  the  observations  cited,  the  vapors 
were  noticed  to  ascend,  until  they  rose  to 
a  height  where  the  air  was  of  the  same 
specific  gravity — a  height  not  mucli  above 
the    adjacent    hills,  —  and   here   they    in- 


GKEAT  AND  MEMOKABLE  EVENTS. 


95 


stantly  spread,  and  floated  in  tlie  atmos- 
phere. From  these  data,  the  conclusion 
is  drawn,  that  the  phice  where  the  vapors 
were  balanced  mu^t  have  been  very  near 
the  surface  of  the  earth. 

Reasoning  from  the  premises  thus  set 
forth,  Prof.  Williams  was  of  the  opinion 
that  such  a  large  quantity  of  vapor,  float- 
ing in  the  atmosphere,  near  the  earth's 
surface,  might  be  sufficient  to  produce  all 
the  phenomena  that  made  the  nineteenth 
of  May,  1780,  so  memorable.  Thus,  the 
direction  in  which  the  darkness  came  on 
would  be  determined  by  the  direction  of 
the  wind,  and  this  was  known  to  be  from 
the  south-west;  the  degree  of  the  dark- 
ness would  depend  on  the  density,  color, 
and  situation  of  the  clouds  and  vapor,  and 
the  manner  in  which  they  would  transmit, 
reflect,  refract,  or  absorb  the  rays  of  light; 
the  extent  of  the  darkness  would  be  as 
great  as  the  extent  of  the  vapor ;  and  the 
duration  of  it  would  continue  until  the 
gravity  of  the  air  became  so  altered  that 
the  vapors  would  change  their  situation, 
by  an  ascent  or  descent;  —  all  of  which 
particulars,  it  is  claimed,  agree  with  the 
observations  that  have  been  mentioned. 
Nor  does  the  effect  of  the  vapors,  in  dark- 
ening terrestrial  objects,  when  they  lay 
near  the  surface  of  the  earth,  appear  to 
have  been  greater  than  it  was  in  darken- 
ing the  sun  and  moon,  when  their  situa- 
tion was  higlier  in  the  atuiospliere. 

It  being  thus  evident  that  the  atmos- 
phere was,  from  some  peculiar  cause  (per- 
haps great  fires  in  distant  woods)  charged, 
in  a  high  degree,  with  vapors,  and  that 
these  vapors  were  of  dilferent  densities 
and  occupied  different  heights, — the  de- 
duction is,  that  by  this  means  the  rays  of 
light  falling  on  them  must  have  suffered  a 
variety  of  refractions  and  reflections,  and 
thereby  become  weakened,  absorbed,  or  so 
reflected,  as  not  to  fall  upon  objects  on  the 
earth  in  the  usual  manner;  and  as  the 
different  vapors  were  adapted  by  their 
nature,  situation,  or  densit}^,  to  absorb  or 
transmit  the  different  kind  of  rays,  so  the 
colors  of  objects  would  appear  to  be  af- 
fected  by   the  mixture  or   prevalency  of 


those  rays  which  were  transmitted  through 
so  uncommon  a  medium.  This  was  the 
explanation  suggested  by  Prof.  Williams, 
though  not  to  the  exclusion  of  other  the- 
ories. 

But  there  were  not  wanting  those — and 
a  large  number  they  were  too — who  gave 
play,  in  their  minds,  to  the  most  strange 
opinions  concerning  the  cause  of  so  mar- 
velous an  appearance.  It  was  imagined 
by  some  persons,  that  an  eclipse  of  the 
sun,  produced  of  course  by  an  interposition 
of  the  moon,  was  the  cause  of  the  darkness 
— others  attributed  it  to  a  transit  of  Venus 
or  Mercury  upon  the  disc  of  the  sun — 
others  imputed  it  to  a  blazing  star,  which 
they  thought  came  between  the  earth  and 
the  sun.  So  whimsical,  indeed,  were  some 
of  the  opinions  which  possessed  men's 
minds  at  this  time,  that  even  so  bare  a 
vagary  as  that  a  great  mountain  obstructed 
the  rays  of  the  sun's  light  during  that 
day,  obtained  advocates  !  Whether  they 
thought  that  a  new  mountain  was  created 
and  placed  between  the  earth  and  the  sun, 
or  that  a  mountain  from  this  globe  had 
taken  flight  and  perched  upon  that  great 
luminary,  does  not  appear. 

That  this  darkness  was  not  caused  by 
an  eclipse,  is  manifest  by  the  various  posi- 
tions of  the  planetary  bodies  at  that  time, 
for  the  moon  was  more  than  one  hundred 
and  fifty  degrees  from  the  sun  all  that 
day,  and,  according  to  the  accurate  calcu- 
lations made  by  the  most  celebrated  as- 
tronomers, there  could  not,  in  the  order  of 
nature,  be  any  transit  of  the  planet  Venus 
or  Mercury  upon  the  disc  of  the  sun  that 
year ;  nor  could  it  be  a  blazing  star — much 
less  a  mountain, — that  darkened  the  at- 
mosj^here,  for  this  would  still  leave  unex- 
plained the  deep  darkness  of  the  following 
night.  Nor  would  such  excessive  noc- 
turnal darkness  follow  an  eclipse  of  the 
sun;  and  as  to  the  moon,  she  was  at  that 
time  more  than  forty  hours'  motion  past 
her  opposition. 

One  of  the  theories,  looking  to  a  solution 
of  the  mysterious  occurrence,  which  found 
defenders,  was  as  follows :  The  heat  of  the 
sun  causes  an  ascent  of  numerous  particles 


96 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


which  consist  of  different  qualities,  such  as 
aqueous,  sulphurous,  bituminous,  salinous, 
etc. ;  hence  the  waters  of  the  seas,  rivers, 
and  ponds ;  the  fumes  of  burning  volca- 
noes, caused  by  subterraneous  veins  of 
liquid  fire;  all  the  other  kinds  of  smoke — 
fat,  combustibles,  oily  matter  from  various 
kinds  of  earth,  the  juice  of  trees,  plants 
and  herbs ;  salinous  and  nitrous  particles 
from  salt,  snow  water,  and  kindred  sources  ; 
— these  are  exhaled  into  the  regions  of  the 
air,  where  their  positions  are  subject  to 
various  mutations  or  changes  by  reason  of 
the  motion  and  compression  of  the  air, 
causing  them  to  be  sometimes  rarefied  and 
sometimes  condensed.  It  was  (according 
to  this  theory,)  a  vast  collection  of  such 
particles  that  caused  the  day  of  darkness  ; 
that  is,  the  particles,  after  being  exhaled, 
were  driven  together  by  certain  winds 
from  opposite  points  of  the  compass,  and 
condensed  to  such  a  degree  by  the  weight 
of  the  earth's  atmosphere,  that  they  ob- 
structed the  appearance  of  the  rays  of  the 
sun  by  day,  and  those  of  the  moon  by 
night. 

Having  thus  presented  the  facts  and 
circumstances  pertaining  to  this  notable 
day  in  the  history  of  the  New  England  or 
northern  states,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to 
add,  that  a  similar  day  of  mysterious  dark- 
ness occurred  on  October  21,  1716 ;  the 
day  was  so  dark,  that  people  were  forced 
to  light  candles  to  dine  by, — a  darkness 
which  could  not  proceed  from  any  eclipse, 
a  solar  eclipse  having  taken  place  on  the 
fourth  of  that  month.  There  was  also  a 
remarkable  darkness  at  Detroit  and  vicin- 
ity, October  19, 1762,  being  almost  total  for 
the  greater  part  of  the  day.  It  was  dark 
at  day-break,  and  this  continued  until  nine 
o'clock,  when  it  cleared  up  a  little,  and,  for 
the  space  of  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
the  body  of  the  sun  was  visible,  it  appear- 
ing as  red  as  blood,  and  more  than  three 


times  as  large  as  usual.  The  air,  all  this 
time,  was  of  a  dingy  yellowish  color.  At 
half-past  one  o'clock,  it  was  so  dark  as  to 
necessitate  the  lighting  of  candles,  in 
order  to  attend  to 'domestic  duties.  At 
about  three  in  the  afternoon,  the  darkness 
became  more  dense,  increasing  in  intensity 
until  half-past  three,  when  the  wind 
breezed  up  from  the  southwest  and  brought 
on  a  slight  fall  of  rain,  accompanied  with 
a  profuse  quantity  of  fine  black  particles, 
in  appearance  much  like  sulphur,  both  in 
smell  and  quality.  A  sheet  of  clean  paper, 
held  out  in  this  rain,  was  rendered  quite 
black  wherever  the  drops  fell  upon  it ;  but, 
when  held  near  the  fire,  it  turned  to  a  yel- 
low color,  and,  when  burned,  it  fizzed  on 
the  paper,  like  wet  powder.  So  black  did 
these  powdery  particles  turn  everything 
upon  wliich  they  fell,  that  even  the  river 
was  covered  with  a  black  froth,  which, 
when  skimmed  off  the  surface,  resembled 
the  lather  of  soap,  with  this  difference,  that 
it  was  more  greasy,  and  its  color  as  black 
as  ink.  At  seven,  in  the  evening,  the  air 
was  more  clear.  This  phenomenon  was 
observed  throughout  a  A^ast  region  of  coun- 
try ;  and,  though  various  conjectures  were 
indulged  in,  as  to  the  cause  of  so  extraor- 
dinar}'  an  occurrence,  the  same  degree  of 
mystery  attaches  to  it  as  to  that  of  1780, — 
confounding  the  wisdom  even  of  the  most 
learned  philosophers  and  men  of  science. 

It  majf  easily  be  imagined,  that,  as  the 
deep  and  mysterious  darkness  which  cov- 
ered the  land  on  the  memorable  nineteenth 
of  May  filled  all  hearts  with  wonder — and 
multitudes  with  fear, — so,  the  return,  at 
last,  of  that  brightness  and  beauty  charac- 
teristic of  the  month  and  of  the  season, 
brought  irladness  acrain  to  the  faces  of  the 
3'oung,  and  composure  to  the  hearts  of  the 
aged ;  for  never  before  did  nature  appear 
clothed  in  so  charming  an  attire  of  sun- 
shine, sky  and  verdure. 


X 


V, 

TREASON  OF  MAJOR-GENERAL  BENEDICT  ARNOLD.— 1780. 


Darkest  Page  in  American  Revolutionary  History. — Plot  to  Deliver  West  Point,  the  Gibraltar  of  Amer- 
ica, Over  to  the  British. — Movements  of  the  Guilty  Parties. — Discovery  and  Frustration  of  the  Crime. 
— Major  Andre,  the  British  Spy,  is  Captured,  and  Swings  from  a  Gibbet. — Escape  of  Arnold  to  the 
Enemy. — Is  Spurned  and  Isolated  in  England. — Arnold's  Unquestioned  Bravery. — Commended  by 
General  Washington. — Infamous  Personal  Transactions. — Reprimanded  by  his  Chief — Determines  on 
Revenge. — Correspondence  with  the  Foe. — Ingratiates  Washington's  Favor  Again. — Obtains  Com- 
mand of  West  Point. — Midnight  Conference  with  Andre. — Andre  Seized  while  Returning — Astound- 
ing Evidence  Against  Him — Attempts  to  Bribe  His  Captors. — Carried  to  American  Head-Quarters. — 
Arnold  Apprised  of  the  Event. — A  Hurried  Farewell  to  His  Wife. — Quick  Pursuit  of  the  Traitor. — 
He  Reaches  a  British  Man-of-War. — Washington's  Exclamation  at  the  News. — His  Call  on  Mrs.  Ar- 
nold— Andre's  Trial  and  Conviction. — Arnold's  Reward  for  His  Crime. — His  Unlamented  Death, 


"Providence,  which  has  so  often  and  so  remarkably  interposed  in  our  favor,  never  manifested  itself  more  conspicuously  than  in  the  timely 
discovery  of  Arnold's  horrid  intention  to  surrender  the  post  and  garrison  of  West  Point  to  the  enemy."— Washihotom. 


I  ARK  and  tragical,  indeed,  is  that  page  in  the  history  of 
the  American  revolutionary  war,  which  records  Benedict 
Arnold's  atrocious  scheme  of  treason  against  his  native 
land,  in  its  struggle  against  British  oppression.  Equally 
strange  and  startling  is  the  story  which  narrates  the  dis- 
covery and  frustration  of  so  perfidious  a  plot.  Around 
the  memory  of  the  unfortunate  Andre,  pity  still  wreathes 
her  romantic  chaplet ;  while  the  name  of  Arnold  will, 
to  the  end  of  time,  transfix  every  patriotic  mind,  as  that 
PRICE  OF  ARNOLD'S  TREASON.  ^f  the  blackcst  among  modern  criminals.  The  treacher- 
ous deed  was  committed,  too,  in  a  year  of  deep  depression  on  the  part  of  the  Americans. 
Of  Arnold,  personally  and  professionally,  it  may  be  remarked,  that  he  was  born  in 
Norwich,  Connecticut,  in  1740,  and  began  his  business  career  at  an  early  age,  as  a  horse- 
dealer,  and  not  over-scrupulous.  He  was  also  for  a  time  a  druggist  and  bookseller  in 
New  Haven.  At  the  beginning  of  the  war  of  the  Revolution  he  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  a  volunteer  company,  and  soon  distinguished  himself ;  was  associated  also  w'ith 
General  Montgomery  in  the  expedition  against  Quebec.  In  this  latter  most  disastrous 
affair,  undertaken  in  severe  weather,  his  illustrious  colleague  lost  his  life,  and  Arnold, 
who  was  severely  wounded  in  the  leg,  displayed  the  highest  abilities  as  a  commander 
and  the  greatest  gallantry  as  a  soldier,  eliciting  Washington's  warmest  esteem  and  ad- 
miration. But,  licentious  and  rapacious  as  he  was  brave  and  intelligent,  he  plundered 
Montreal  in  his  retreat,  and  by  his  misconduct  exasperated  the  minds  of  the  Canadians, 
who  previously  were  not  hostile  to  the  Revolution.  After  exhibiting  great  courage 
and  skill  on  Lake  Champlain,  at  Fort  Schuyler,  and  the  battle  of  Stillwater,  his  leg 
was  shattered  by  a  ball  on  the   seventh  of  October,   1777,  in   a  daring  assault   on 


98 


OUE  FIKST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  English  lines,  which  he  penetrated,  and 
but  for  his  wound  would  have  carried. 
Being  thus  unfitted  for  active  service,  he 
was  appointed  commander  of  the  garrison 
at  Philadelphia,  but  his  dissipation,  extor- 
tion, and  peculation,  at  last  subjected  him 
to  a  trial  by  court  martial,  and  to  a  repri- 
mand from  Washington,  at  the  beginning 
of  1779.  This  sentence  was  approved  by 
Congress,  and  carried  into  execution  by 
General  Washington.  Embarrassed  in  his 
circumstances,  disappointed  in  his  expec- 
tations, and  exasperated  by  disgrace,  he 
formed  the  design  of  retrieving  his  misfor- 
tunes and  satisfying  his  revenge,  by  be- 
traying his  country.     It  was  in  this  wise  : 

While  the  British  army  was  in  Phila- 
delphia, in  the  spring  of  1778,  a  grand 
parting  entertainment  was  given  by  the 
royalists  to  Sir  William  Howe,  the  British 
commander-in-chief.  Major  Andre,  made 
Adjutant-General  of  the  army  by  Howe's 
successor,  was  one  of  the  chief  managers 
of  the  affair.  Miss  Shippen,  a  Philadel- 
phia belle  (and  who  subsequently  became 
Mrs.  Arnold),  figured  conspicuously  among 
the  actors  of  the  entertainment,  and  she 
and  Andre  kept  up  a  correspondence  after- 
ward. Through  this  channel  Arnold  saw, 
after  his  marriage  with  Miss  Shippen,  an 
opportunity  for  communicating  with  Sir 
Henry  Clinton,  the  British  commander  at 
New  York.  In  other  words,  he  deter- 
mined to  betray  his  country, — being,  in 
this  respect,  an  almost  solitary  instance, 
Dr.  Benjamin  Church,  of  Massachusetts, 
surgeon-general,  being  the  other  principal 
offender. 

Under  fictitious  names,  and  in  the  dis- 
guise of  mercantile  business,  Arnold  was 
even  now  in  treacherous  correspondence 
witli  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  through  Major 
Andre.  To  him  the  British  general  com- 
mitted the  maturing  of  Arnold's  treason, 
and,  to  facilitate  measures  for  its  execu- 
tion, the  sloop  of  war  Vulture  moved  up 
the  North  river,  and  took  a  station  con- 
venient for  the  purpose,  but  not  so  near  as 
to  excite  suspicion.  An  interview  was 
agreed  on,  and  in  the  night  of  September 
twenty-first,  1780,  he  was  taken  in  a  boat. 


which  was  dispatched  for  the  purpose,  and 
carried  to  the  beach,  without  the  posts  of 
both  armies,  under  a  pass  for  John  Ander- 
son. He  met  General  Arnold  at  the  house 
of  a  Mr.  Smith. 

Yielding  with  reluctance  to  the  urgent 
representations  of  Arnold,  Andre  laid  aside 
his  regimentals,  which  he  had  hitherto 
worn  under  a  surtout,  putting  on  a  suit  of 
ordinary  clothes  instead ;  and  now,  receiv- 
ing a  pass  from  the  American  general, 
authorizing  him,  under  the  feigned  name 
of  John  Anderson,  to  "proceed  on  the 
public  service  to  the  White  Plains,  or 
lower  if  he  thought  proper,"  he  set  out  on 
his  return  in  the  evening  of  the  twenty- 
second,  accompanied  by  Joshua  Smith,  and 
2:)assed  the  night  at  Crompond.  The  next 
morning  he  crossed  the  Hudson  to  King's 
Ferry  on  the  east  side.  A  little  beyond 
the  Croton,  Smith  deeming  him  safe,  bade 
him  adieu.  Alone,  and  without  having 
excited  the  least  suspicion,  Andre  jiassed 
the  American  guards,  and  was  silently 
congratulating  himself  that  he  had  passed 
all  danger,  when,  coming  to  a  place  where 
a  small  stream  crossed  the  road  and  ran 
into  a  woody  dell,  a  man  stepped  out  from 
the  trees,  leveled  a  musket,  and  brought 
him  to  a  stand,  while  two  other  men,  sim- 
ilarly armed,  showed  themselves  prepared 
to  second  their  comrades.  The  man  who 
at  first  stepped  out  wore  a  refugee  uniform. 
At  sight  of  it,  Andre's  heart  leapt,  and  he 
felt  himself  secure.  Losing  all  caution, 
he  exclaimed  eagerly : 

"Gentlemen,  where  do  you  belong?  I 
hope  to  our  party  ! " 

"  What  party?"  was  their  immediate 
inquiry  in  response  ;  the  trio  consisting  of 
scouting  militiamen,  named  Paulding, 
Williams,  and  Van  Wart. 

"The  party  below,"  —  meaning  New 
York,  was  the  answer. 

"  We  do,"  was  the  shrewd  reply  of  the 
three,  as  they  now  seized  the  bridle  of  the 
unfortunate  man's  horse,  and  challenged 
his  business  in  that  place. 

Seeing,  beyond  all  doubt,  the  hands  he 
had  fallen  into,  Andre  quickly  shifted  his 
tactics  by  jocosely  remarking  that  what  he 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


99 


had  first  represented  himself  to  be  was 
merely  by  waj"-  of  badinage,  and  that  he 
was  in  reality  a  Continental  officer,  going 
down  to  Dobbs  Ferry  to  get  information 
from  below;  so  saying,  he  drew  fortli  and 
showed  them  the  pass  from  General  Arnold. 
This  in  the  first  place  would  have  sufficed, 
but  his  strange  conduct  and  imprudent 
speech  had  so  thoroughly  betrayed  him, 
that  the  three  militiamen  insisted  on 
searching  his  person.  They  therefore 
obliged  him  to  take  off  his  coat  and  vest, 
and  found  on  him  eighty  dollars  in  Conti- 
nental money,  but  nothing  to  warrant  sus- 
picion of  anything  sinister,  and  were  about 
to  let  him  proceed,  when  one  of  them  — 


marks  on  the  works ;  also  other  important 
documents. 

Wliile  dressing  again,  Andre  endeavored 
to  ransom  himself  from  his  captors.  He 
would  give  any  sum  of  money,  if  they 
would  let  him  go;  would  give  his  horse, 
saddle,  bridle,  gold  watch,  and  one  hundred 
guineas,  and  would  send  them  to  anyplace 
that  might  be  fixed  upon, 

Williams  asked,  ironically,  whether  he 
would  not  give  more  than  all  that. 

Andre  rej^lied,  that  he  would  give  any 
reward  they  might  name  either  in  goods 
or  money,  and  Avould  remain  with  two  of 
their  party  while  one  went  to  New  York 
to  get  it. 


CAPTUKB  OF  ANDKE. 


Paulding,  a  stout-hearted  youngster — ex- 
claimed : 

"Boys,  I  am  not  satisfied — his  boots 
must  come  off." 

At  this  Andre  changed  color.  His 
boots,  he  said,  came  off  witli  difficulty,  and 
he  begged  he  might  not  be  subjected  to 
the  inconvenience  and  delay.  His  remon- 
strances were  in  vain.  He  was  compelled 
to  sit  down ;  his  boots  were  drawn  off  and 
the  concealed  papers  discovered.  Hastily 
scanning  them,  Paulding  exclaimed — 

"My  God!     He  is  a  spy!'' 

The  papers,  which  were  in  the  hand- 
writing of  Arnold,  contained  exact  returns 
of  the  state  of  the  forces,  ordnance,  and 
defenses  of  West  Point,  with  critical  re- 


Here  Paulding  broke  in  and  declared 
with  an  oath,  that  if  he  would  give  ten 
thousand  guineas  he  should  not  stir  one 
step. 

On  the  morning  of  the  twenty-eighth  of 
September,  Andre,  in  charge  of  Major 
Tallmadge,  Avas  conveyed  in  a  barge  to 
King's  Ferry.  Being  both  young,  of  equal 
rank,  and  prepossessing  manners,  a  frank 
and  cordial  intercourse  grew  up  between 
them.  By  a  cartel,  mutually  agreed  upon, 
each  might  put  to  the  other  any  question 
not  involving  a  third  person.  They  were 
passing  below  the  rocky  heights  of  West 
Point  and  in  full  view  of  the  frowning 
fortress,  when  Tallmadge  asked  Andre 
whether  he  would  have  taken   an   active 


100 


OUR  FIKST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


part  in  the  attack  on  it,  should  Arnold's 
plan  have  succeeded. 

Andre  promptly  answered  this  question 
in  the  affirmative;  pointed  out  a  table  of 
land  on  the  west  shore,  where  he  would 
have  landed  a  select  corps,  described  the 
route  he  would  have  taken  up  the  moun- 
tain to  a  height  in  the  rear  of  Fort  Put- 
nam, overlooking  the  whole  parade  of 
West  Point — "  and  this  he  did,"  writes 
Tallmadge,  "  with  much  greater  exactness 
than  I  could  have  done.  This  eminence 
he  would  have  reached  without  difficulty, 
as  Arnold  would  have  disposed  of  the  gar- 
rison in  such  manner  as  to  be  capable  of 
little  or  no  opposition — and  then  the  key 


public  ear,  and  all  hearts  turned  for  relief 
to  the  wisdom  of  Washington.  Unfortu- 
nately for  the  ends  of  justice,  Andre  asked 
permission  of  Colonel  Jameson,  as  soon  as 
he  was  taken  to  the  latter's  custodj-,  to 
write  to  General  Arnold,  to  inform  him 
that  'Anderson'  was  detained.  Not 
knowing  the  rank  of  his  prisoner  nor  the 
magnitude  of  the  plot,  the  letter  was  al- 
lowed by  Jameson  to  be  sent,  and  Arnold, 
being  thus  apprised,  escaped.  Colonel 
Jameson  also  forwarded  to  General  Wash- 
ington the  papers  found  on  the  prisoner, 
and  a  statement  of  the  manner  in  which 
he  was  taken. 

The  papers  sent  to  Washington  missed 


of  the  country  vtoulcl  have  been  in  his 
hands,  and  he  would  have  had  the  glory 
of  the  splendid  achievement."  Tallmadge 
ventured  to  ask  Andre  what  was  to  have 
been  his  reward  had  he  succeeded.  To 
this  the  reply  was  :  "Military  glory  Avas 
all  I  sought  The  thanks  of  my  general 
and  the  approbation  of  my  king  would 
have  been  a  rich  reward  for  such  an  under- 
taking." Tallmadge  also  adds  :  "I  think 
he  further  remarked,  that,  if  he  had  suc- 
ceeded, he  was  to  have  been  promoted  to 
the  rank  of  a  brigadier-general." 

The  news  of  Andre's  arrest  and  Arnold's 
treason   fell  like  a  thunderbolt  upon  the 


him,  as  he  did  not  return  by  the  road  he 
went,  but  took  the  northern  route  to  Fish- 
kill,  where,  September  twenty-fourth,  he 
arrived  late  in  the  afternoon,  the  very  day 
after  Andre's  capture, — of  which  event 
and  of  Arnold's  treason  he  was  wholly 
unconscious.  Stopping  at  Fishkill  only  a 
short  time,  he  pushed  on  for  the  quarters 
of  his  brave  general,  Arnold,  some  eighteen 
miles  distant.  He  had  gone,  however,  but 
a  mile  or  two,  before  he  met  the  French 
minister,  Chevalier  Luzerne,  on  his  way  to 
Newport,  to  visit  Rochambeau,  the  French 
naval  commander.  The  latter  prevailed 
on  him  to  return  to  Fishkill  for  the  night, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


101 


as  he  had  matters  of  importance  to  com- 
municate. 

The  next  morning,  "Washington  was 
early  in  the  saddle,  having  sent  word  be- 
forehand to  Arnold  that  he  would  break- 
fast with  him.  It  was  a  bright  autumnal 
morning,  and  tlio  wliole  party  in  higli 
spirits  puslied  rapidly  forward  through  the 
gorges  of  the  Highlands.  As  they  came 
opposite  West  Point,  Washington,  instead 
of  continuing  on  to  Arnold's  quarters, 
which  were  on  the  same  side,  turned  his 
horse  down  a  narrow  road  toward  the 
river.  Lafayette  observing  this,  ex- 
claimed— 

"  General,  you  are  going  in  the  wrong 
direction ;  you  know  Mrs.  Arnold  is  wait- 
ing breakfast  for  us,  and  that  road  will 
take  us  out  of  the  way." 


Jameson,  commanding  at  North  Castle, 
announcing  tlie  capture  of  Andre,  and  wlio 
had  been  brouglit  in  to  Jameson's  post,  by 
tlireo  militiamen,  Paulding,  Williams,  and 
Van  Wart,  his  captors,  whom  tlie  gallant 
but  unfortunate  man  vainly  endeavored  to 
bribe,  in  order  to  his  release.  Tliey  knew 
him  to  be  a  spy,  but  were  ignorant  of  his 
military  rank. 

Merely  remarking  that  his  presence  at 
West  Point  was  necessary,  Arnold  re- 
quested the  aids  to  say  to  Washington  on 
his  arrival  tliathewas  unexpectedly  called 
over  the  river,  and  would  be  back  soon. 
Repairing  to  his  wife's  chamber,  he  sent 
for  her  at  the  breakfast  table,  and  told  her 
that  he  must  instantly  leave  her  and  his 
country  forever,  for  death  was  his  certain 
doom  if  he  did  not  reach  the  enemy  before 


WEST  POINT  IN  1780. 


"Ah  !  "  replied  Washington,  laughingly, 
"I  know  you  young  men  are  all  in  love 
with  Mrs.  Arnold,  and  wish  to  get  where 
she  is  as  soon  as  possible.  You  may  go 
and  take  breakfast  with  her,  and  tell  her 
not  to  wait  for  me.  I  must  ride  down  and 
examine  the  redoubts  on  this  side  of  the 
river,  and  will  be  there  in  a  short  time." 

The  officers  preferring  not  to  proceed 
without  him,  two  aids  were  dispatched  to 
tell  Arnold  not  to  wait  breakfast.  The 
latter,  therefore,  with  his  family  and  the 
two  aids  sat  down  to  the  table.  While 
they  were  conversing  on  indifferent  topics. 
a  messenger  entered  and  handed  a  letter 
to  Arnold,  who  opened  and  read  it  in  pros- 
enceof  the  company,  without,  of  courst\  di- 
vulging its  contents.     It  was  from  Colonel 


he  was  detected.  Paralyzed  by  the  sud- 
den blow,  she  fell  senseless  at  his  feet. 
Not  daring  to  call  for  help,  Arnold  left  her 
in  that  state,  and  rapidly  descending  to  the 
door,  mounted  one  of  the  horses  belonging 
to  Washington's  cids,  and  taking  a 
b3'--way  pushed  for  the  river,  where  his 
barge  was  moored.  Jumping  in,  he  or- 
dered his  six  oarsmen  to  pull  for  Teller's 
Point.  Stimulating  them  to  greater 
efforts  by  the  promise  of  two  gallons  of 
rum,  he  swept  rapidly  past  Verplanck's 
Point,  and  as  he  approached  the  British 
ship  Vulture,  waved  a  white  handkerchief, 
and  was  soon  on  board.  In  the  meantime, 
Washington,  having  finished  his  survey, 
rode  on  to  Arnold's  house.  Taking  a 
hasty  breakfast,  and  being  informed  that 


102 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Mrs.  Arnold  was  in  her  room,  unwell,  he 
said  he  would  not  wait  for  Arnold  to 
return,  but  cross  over  to  West  Point  and 
meet  him  there.  As  the  boat  swept  over 
the  water,  he  remarked — 

"Well,  gentlemen,  I  am  glad  on  the 
whole  that  General  Arnold  has  gone  before 
us,  for  we  shall  now  have  a  salute,  and  tlie 
roaring  of  the  cannon  will  have  a  fine 
effect  among  these  mountains." 

At  this  moment  an  officer  was  seen 
coming  down  the  rocky  hill-side,  to 
meet  the  barge.  It  was  Colonel 
Lamb,  who  looked  confounded  on 
seeing  the  commander-in-chief.  He 
commenced  an  apology,  declaring 
that  he  was  wholly  ignorant  of  liis 
excellency's  intention  to  visit  West 
Point. 

"  How  is  this,  sir,"  broke  in  Wash- 
ington, "is  not  General  Arnold  here?" 

"No,  sir,"  replied  the  colonel,  "he  has 
not  been  here  these  two  days,  nor  have  I 
heard  from  him  in  that  time." 

"This  is  extraordinary,"  replied  Wash- 
ington ;  "  he  left  word  that  he  had  crossed 
the  river.  However,  our  visit  must  not 
be  in  vain.  Since  we  have  come,  we  must 
look  around  and  see  in  what  state  things 
are  with  you." 

And  now  it  was  that  Hamilton  broke 
the  astounding  news  to  his  chief.  The 
1  ittei',  stunned  and  bewildered,  ordered 
Hamilton  to  mount  a  horse  and  ride  as  for 
life  to  Verplanck's  Point,  and  stop  Arnold, 
if  possible;  he  called  in  Knox  and  Lafay- 
ette, and  told  them  what  had  occurred, 
merely  remarking  at  the  close,  "  Whom 
can  ivG  trust  noiv?'^  His  countenance 
was  calm  as  ever,  and  being  inforuied  that 
Arnold's  wife  was  in  a  state  bordering  on 
insanity,  he  went  up  to  her  room  to  soothe 
her.  In  her  frenzy  she  upbraided  him 
with  being  in  a  plot  to  murder  her  child. 
One  moment  she  raved,  another  she  melted 
into  tears.  Sometimes  she  pressed  her 
infant  to  her  bosom  and  lamented  its  fate, 
occasioned  by  the  imprudence  of  its  father, 
in  a  manner  that  would  have  pierced  in- 
sensibility itself.  It  was  four  o'clock  in 
the    afternoon   when   these  disclosures  of 


Arnold's  treason  and  Andre's  capture  were 
made  to  Wasliiiigton,  and,  an  hour  later, 
dinner  being  announced,  he  said — 

"  Come,  gentlemen,  since  Mrs.  Arnold 
is  unwell  and  the  general  is  absent,  let  us 
sit  down  without  ceremony." 

No  one  at  the  table  but  Knox  and  La- 
fayette knew  what  had  transpired,  nor 
did  Washington  exhibit  any  change  of 
demeanor,  except  that  he  was  more  than 


GENERAL  ARNOLD'S  HEAD-QUARTERS. 

usually  stern  in  his  voice  and  manner. 
But  his  mind,  oppressed  with  nameless 
fears,  wandered  far  away  from  that  dinner 
table,  and  no  sooner  was  the  quiet  repast 
over  than  he  addressed  himself  to  the  task 
before  him.  He  wrote  rapidly,  and  cour- 
iers were  soon  seen  galloping  in  every  di- 
rection. He  announced  the  treason  to 
Colonel  Wade,  commanding  at  West  Point, 
in  the  absence  of  Colonel  Lamb,  in  the 
single  sentence,  "  General  Arnold  is  gone 
to  the  enemy.''''  Having  done  all  he  could 
to  arrest  the  tremendous  evils  that  threat- 
ened to  overwhelm  him,  Washington  re- 
tired late  at  night  to  his  bed,  fearful  that 
the  sound  of  the  enemy's  cannon,  under 
the  auspices  of  Arnold's  treacherous 
schemes,  would  awake  him  before  day- 
light.    It  happily  did  not  prove  so. 

A  court-martial,  having  condemned 
Andre  as  a  spy,  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  the 
British  general,  put  forth  every  effort  to 
avert  the  dreadful  fate  of  his  officer.  He 
sent  three  commissioners  to  reason  and  re- 
monstrate with  the  officers  of  the  court. 
He  appealed  to  Washington,  while  Arnold 
wrote  him  a  threatening  letter,  declaring 
if  Andre  was  hung  he  would  revenge  his 
death  on  every  American  prisoner  that  fell 
into  his  hands.  Washington  deigned  no 
reply  to  the  letter,  but  tenderly  forwarded 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


103 


Mrs.  Arnold  and  her  baggage  over  to  the 
British  side. 

Wasliington,  though  his  heart  was  filled 
with  the  keenest  sorrow  for  the  fate  of  one 
so  universall}'  beloved,  and  possessed  of 
such  noble  qualities  of  heart  and  mind, 
refused  to  arrest  the  course  of  justice.  As 
in  all  cases  where  great  trouble  came  upon 
him,    so  in  this,    he   said  but  little,  but 


sternly  and  silently  wrestled  with  it  alone. 
Arnold  was  made  brigadier-general  in  the 
British  service,  and  put  on  an  official  level 
with  honorable  men,  who  scorned,  how- 
ever, to  associate  with  him.  What  golden 
reward  he  was  to  have  received  had  he 
succeeded  in  delivering  West  Point  to  the 
enemy,  is  not  known ;  £30,000,  most  prob- 
ably. 


v'l. 

CORNWALLIS    SUKRENDERS    HIS    SPLENDID    ARMY   TO 

GENERAL  WASHINGTON.— 1781. 


Final  Catastrophe  to  British  Arms  in  America. — Consternation  and  Despair  in  the  Cabinet  of  King 

George Tiieir  Vaunted  Wager  of  Battle  Returns  to  Them  with  the  Loss  of  their  Fairest  Possession. 

Washington's  Countrymen  Everywhere  Hail  and  Extol  Him  as  their  Deliverer. — Last  Act  in  the 

Military  Drama. — Cornwallis  Halts  at  Yorktown — Makes  it  His  Defensive  Post. — Decoy  Letter 
Sent  by  Washington. — The  British  Strongly  P'ortified.— American  and  French  Forces  United. — Their 
Advance  on  the  Enemy.— Furious  Bombardment — Redoubts  Stormed  by  Lafayette. — Both  Sides 
Confident  of  Triumph. — British  Efforts  to  Retreat — Cornwallis  Prefers  Death  to  Defeat —Reckless 
Bravery  of  Washington. — Ardor  and  Exultation  of  His  Tronps. — Cornwallis  Fails  of  Re-enforcements. 
— He  Asks  a  Cessation  of  Hostilities.— Forced  to  Yield  the  Struggle. — Universal  Rejoicing  of  Amer- 
icans.— Mortification  of  the  English — Eloquence  of  Burke,  Fox,  and  Pitt. — They  Demand  that  the 
War  Cease. — The  Voice  of  Parliament. — Commemorative  Action  by  Congress. 


"Oh  God!  It  uallover— it  iialloverl"— LOED  North,  Peime  Ministee  or  Enolakd,  on  Heabino  of  Coknttali-is's  Sukbendbb. 

— •••» 


T  the  liead  of  a  i:)Owerful  army,  with 
wliich  he  had  just  established  himself 
in  Virginia,  Lord  Cornwallis  Taunt- 
ingly wrote  to  General  Clinton,  his 
su^^erior,  as  follows  : — 

"  I  have  ventured,  these  last  two 
days,  to  look  General  Washington's 
whole  force  in  the  face,  in  the  jiosi- 
tion  on  the  outside  of  my  works,  and 
have  the  pleasure  to  assure  your  Ex- 
cellency that  there  is  but  one  wish 
throughout  the  army,  which  is,  that 
the  enemy  would  advance.'^ 

Scarcely  did  Cornwallis  have 
time  to  awake  from  his  d;*}'-dream 
of  security,  when  a  courier  was 
thundering  at  the  doors  of  the 
Continental  Congress,  with  the 
following  dispatch  from  General 
Washington :  "  I  have  the  honor  to  inform  congress  that  a  reduction  of  the  British  army, 
under  the  command  of  Lord  Cornwallis,  is  mo.st  happily  effected.  The  unremitted  ardor, 
which  actuated  every  officer  and  soldier  in  the  combined  army  on  this  occasion,  has 
principally  led  to  this  important  event,  at  an  earlier  period  than  my  most  sanguine 
hopes  had  induced  me  to  expect.  The  singular  spirit  of  emulation,  which  animated  the 
whole  army  from  the  first  commencement  of  our  operations,  has  filled  my  mind  with  the 


THE   HOUSE   WHKKK    (DKNWALLIS   .SUKIIENDEIUCD. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


105 


highest  pleasure  and  satisfaction,  and  had 
given  me  the  happiest  presages  of  success." 

A  glorious  event,  one  eliciting  the 
most  unbounded  demonstrations  of  joy 
throughout  the  United  States,  and  which 
completely  destroyed  British  military 
power  at  the  south,  thus  setting  the  seal  of 
American  success  upon  the  contest  with 
the  mother  country, — was  the  capture,  as 
announced  in  the  above  dispatch,  of  Lord 
Oornwallis  and  his  splendid  army,  at  York- 
town,  Virginia,  in  October,  1781,  by  the 
■combined  American  and  French  forces 
under  General  Washington  and  Counts  de 
Hochambeau  and  Grasse. 

In  the  summer  of  1781,  Cornwallis  had 
taken  possession  of  several  places  in  the 
south,  and,  in  the  latter  part  of  July,  de- 
sirous of  establishing  himself  firmly  in 
Virginia,  he  accordingly  selected  York- 
town  as  a  suitable  defensive  post  and  capa- 
hle  of  protecting  ships  of  the  line.  Little 
did  he  think,  as  he  began  leisurely  to  for- 
tify the  place,  that  it  was  a  net  which 
would  entangle  him  in  crushed  hopes  and 
ruined  fortunes.  Yorktown  is  situated  at 
the  narrowest  part  of  the  2'>eninsula  formed 
hy  the  York  and  James  rivers,  where  the 
distance  across  is  but  eight  miles.  By 
placing  his  troops,  therefore,  around  the 
village,  and  drawing  about  them  a  range 
of  outer  redoubts  and  field  works  calcu- 
lated to  command  this  peninsula,  Cornwal- 
lis had,  as  he  thought,  established  himself 
well. 

Lafaj^ette,  with  an  inferior  number  of 
"troops,  was  at  this  time  at  Williamsburg, 
hut  was  unable  to  make  successful  engage- 
ments w4th  the  superior  force  of  the  Brit- 
ish. Seeing,  at  once,  the  importance  of 
putting  some  check  upon  the  progress  of 
Cornwallis  at  the  south,  Washington  de- 
termined to  unite  the  American  and  French 
iorces,  then  in  the  neighborhood  of  New 
York,  and  join  Lafayette  at  Williamsburg. 
This  junction  was  effected  on  the  four- 
teenth of  September,  Washington  being  at 
the  head  of  the  American  troops,  and  the 
Count  de  Rochambeau  at  the  head  of  the 
T'rench  forces.  At  the  same  time  the 
Count  de   Grasse,  with  his  fleet,  entered 


the  Chesapeake,  after  a  slight  engagement 
with  Admiral  Graves  off  the  capes,  and 
was  joined  by  the  squadron  of  the  Count 
de  Barras  from  Newport.  .Three  thou- 
sand men,  under  the  Marquis  St.  Simon, 
were  also  added  to  the  troops  under  La- 
fayette's command;  and  these  combined 
forces  then  moved  toward  Yorktown  and 
Gloucester,  where  Corwallis  was  sta- 
tioned. 

The  British  general  had  been  expecting 
aid  from  Sir  Henry  Clinton  at  the  north, 
but  so  adroitly  had  Washington  withdrawn 
his  troops,  that  Sir  Henry  scarcely  sus- 
pected his  design,  till  it  was  too  late  to 
frustrate  it.  On  the  thirteenth  of  Septem- 
ber, the  allied  army  occujiied  the  outer 
lines  of  Cornwallis,  which  that  general 
had  abandoned  without  a  struggle.  York- 
town  was  in  a  short  time  completely 
invested ;  the  American  ami}"  occupying 
the  right,  and  the  French  the  left,  forming 
a  semi-circle  with  each  wing  resting  upon 
the  river.  On  the  night  of  the  sixth  of 
October  the  besieging  army  broke  ground 
within  six  hundred  yards  of  the  British 
lines  ;  and  the  first  parallel  was  completed 
with  little  loss.  On  the  ninth  and  tenth, 
guns  were  mounted  on  the  works,  and  the 
batteries  began  to  play,  with  visible  effect, 
on  the  lines  of  the  enemy.  Many  of  their 
guns  were  soon  silenced,  and  their  Avorks 
damaged.  By  the  eleventh,  the  enemy 
scarcely  returned  a  shot.  The  shells  and 
red-hot  balls  of  the  besiegers  reached  the 
shipping  in  the  harbor,  and  set  the  Charon 
frigate  of  forty-four  guns,  and  several 
large  transports  on  fire,  which  were  en- 
tirely consumed.  On  the  night  of  the 
eleventh,  the  second  parallel  was  begun 
within  three  hundred  yards  of  the  British 
lines.  The  Avorking  parties  were  not  dis- 
covered until  day-light,  Avhen  the  trenches 
were  in  a  situation  to  cover  the  men. 

But  there  were  two  redoubts  in  particu- 
lar, in  front  of  the  British  lines  and  which 
flanked  the  second  jiarallel  of  the  Ameri- 
cans, that  gave  great  annoyance  to  the 
latter,  and  it  was  deemed  necessary  to 
carry  them  by  storm.  To  prevent  national 
jealousy,  however,  and  to  keep  ali^-e   the 


106 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


spirit  of  emulation  which  animated  the  co- 
opei'ating  armies,  the  attack  of  one  was 
assigned  to  the  American  troops,  and  that 
of  the  other  to  the  French.  Lafayette 
commanded  the  American  detachment,  and 
the  Baron  de  Viominet  the  French. 
Colonel  Hamilton,  who  through  this  cam- 
paign commanded  a  battalion  of  light  in- 
fantry, led  the  advanced  corps  of  the 
Americans  to  the  assault,  while  Colonel 
Laurens  turned  the  redoubt  and  attacked 


in  his  confidence  of  triumph  had  so  recently 
written  to  his  superior.  Sir  Henry  Clinton^ 
Having  failed  in  his  sortie,  and  knowing 
that  his  position  had  become  untenable, 
the  British  general  took  the  desperate  res- 
okition  of  crossing  over  to  Gloucester 
Point  in  the  night,  and  cutting  his  way 
through  the  blockading  force  there — then, 
mounting  his  men  on  whatever  horses  he 
could  seize,  make  a  rapid  march  northward 
and  join   Sir   Henry  Clinton !      By  this 


C'Olt.N\VALLls'.-j    bUlKK.NDElt. 


in  the  rear,  to  prevent  the  retreat  of  the 
garrison.  Without  giving  time  for  the 
abattis  to  be  removed,  and  without  firing 
a  gun,  the  Americans  gallantly  assaulted, 
and  instantly  carried  the  works,  with  a 
small  loss  of  men  on  either  side.  The  re- 
doubt attacked  by  the  French  being  more 
strongly  garrisoned  made  greater  resist- 
ance, and  was  overcome  with  a  much  heav- 
ier  loss.  The  success  of  these  movements 
■was  a  stunning  blow  to   Cornwallis,  who, 


movement  he  would  abandon  his  sick  and 
baercraaje  :  but  he  would  save  himself  the 
discrrace  of  a  surrender.  Boats  were  se- 
cretly  procured,  and  the  first  embarkation 
reached  the  point  safely  and  unperceived  ; 
but,  at  this  juncture,  a  violent  storm  arose, 
which  drove  the  boats  down  the  river. 
The  tempest  continuing  until  day-light, 
the  enterprise  was  necessarily  given  up, 
and  the  troops  that  had  passed  over  gladly 
re-crossed  to  the  southern  field. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


107 


In  the  mortification  and  anguish  of  his 
soul,  Cornwallis  shed  tears,  and  expressed 
his  preference  for  death  rather  than  the 
ignominj'-  of  a  surrender.  But  there  was 
no  resource — the  liandwriting  on  the  wall 
was  against  him — the  fate  of  war  must  be 
accepted.  The  siege  had  continued  close 
for  more  than  two  weeks,  and,  notwith- 
standing the  losses  in  killed,  wounded,  and 
missing,  that  had  been  sustained,  the  Brit- 
ish army  showed  a  handsome  force  of  be- 
tween seven  and  eight  thousand  trained 
fighting  men,  of  unquestioned  bravery,  but 
who  were  soon  to  capitulate  to  the  besieg- 
ing forces,  numbering,  in  all,  some  sixteen 
thousand  men,  less  discii^lined,  perhaps, 
but  determined  and  indomitable. 

Of  Washington,  the  central  character 
and  actor  in  this  great  drama,  every 
American  heart  engrossingly  thinks. 
Knowing  that  Sir  Henry  Clinton  had 
written  to  Cornwallis,  bidding  him  to 
strengthen  his  position  at  Yorktown,  and 
promising  him  the  immediate  aid  of  both 
land  and  naval  forces,  Washington  had, 
seasonably  and  with  shrewd  forecast,  writ- 
ten a  letter  to  Lafayette,  then  in  Virginia, 
which  he  caused  to  he  intervepted.  In  this 
letter  he  remarked  that  he  was  pleased 
with  the  probability  that  Earl  Cornwallis 
would  fortify  either  Portsmouth  or  Old 
Point  Comfort,  for,  were  he  to  fix  xipon 
Yorktown,  from  its  great  capabilities  of 
defense,  he  might  remain  there  snugly  and 
unharmed,  until  a  superior  British  fleet 
would  relieve  him  with  strong  re-enforce- 
ments, or  embark  him  altogether. 

This  deco}^  letter  quieted  the  apprehen- 
sions of  the  British  commander-in-chief  as 
to  the  danger  of  Cornwallis,  and  produced 
those  delays  in  the  operations  of  Sir  Henry, 
which,  as  will  have  been  seen,  tended  so 
materially  to  the  success  of  uhe  allies  and 
the  surrender  of  Yorktown.  Thus  it  was 
that  Washington  by  his  pen,  laid  the 
train  of  success  so  well.  Nor  less  so  with 
his  sword.  In  the  simultaneous  attack 
upon  the  redoubts,  made  by  the  combined 
American  and  French  army,  Washington 
VN^as  an  intensely-excited  spectator.  He 
had  dismounted  from  his  horse — the  mag- 


nificent charger,  named  Nelson, — and  put 
him  in  the  care  of  a  servant,  while  the 
general  himself  took  his  stand  in  the  grand 
battery  with  his  two  chief  generals,  Lin- 
coln and  Knox,  and  their  aids,  and  here 
he  exposed  himself  to  ever}'-  danger. 

When  all  was  over,  at  this  critical  junc- 
ture,—  the  redoubts  being  taken,  and 
Washington's  intense  anxiety  so  happily 
relieved, — the  general  drew  a  long  breath, 
and  looking  at  Knox  Avith  an  expression 
of  extreme  satisfaction,  remarked,  briefly, 
"  The  work  is  done,  and  %vell  done ! " 
Motioning  to  his  faithful  servant,  who  was 
quickly  in  his  presence,  he  said,  "William, 
bring  me  my  horse," — mounting  which,  the 
chieftain  proceeded  to  make  sure  that  the 
success  which  had  attended  the  first  par- 
allel was  followed  up  energetically  until 
no  loop-hole  was  left,  through  which  Corn- 
wallis might  escape.  No  such  loop-hole 
was  afforded,  and  Cornwallis's  doom  was 
sealed. 

It  was  a  proud  day  for  the  war-worn 
troops  of  America  to  see  so  fine  an  army 
not  only  within  their  grasp,  but,  to  all  in- 
tents and  purposes,  completely  at  their 
disposal, — waiting  only  those  last  formali- 
ties which  give  solemn  dignity  to  the  de- 
crees already  made  by  the  sword, — and 
they  saw,  in  the  coming  event,  the  final 
catastrophe  of  British  rule  in  America, — 
the  close  of  the  Revolutionary  drama, — 
the  establishment  of  a  free  and  independ- 
ent republic.  As  already  remarked,  Corn- 
wallis had  hoped  for  succor  to  the  last,  but 
the  slaughter  of  his  men  became  too  seri- 
ous to  be  any  longer  endured,  and  finally 
the  loud  beat  of  the  chaviade  Avas  heard  in 
the  intervals  of  the  explosions  of  cannon, 
and  the  firing  ceased.  Cornwallis  then 
sent  a  flag  of  truce  requesting  a  cessation 
of  hostilities  for  twenty-four  hours,  to  ar- 
range the  terms  of  capitulation.  To  this 
Washington  would  not  consent,  fearing 
that  the  arrival  of  the  English  fleet  in  the 
meantime  might  alter  the  aspect  of  affairs, 
and  allowed  him  but  two  hours  in  which 
to  transmit  his  proposals.  The  full  sur- 
render took  place  the  next  day,  October  19, 
1781,    the    articles    of   capitulation   being 


108 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


signed  by  Cornwallis  at  the  house  of  a  Mr. 
Moore. 

At  about  12  o'clock  of  that  day,  the 
combined  continental  army  was  drawn  up 
in  two  lines  more  than  a  mile  in  length, 
the  Americans  on  the  right  side  of  the 
road,  and  their  French  allies  on  the  left. 
Washington,  mounted  on  a  noble  steed, 
and  attended  by  his  staff,  was  in  front  of 
the  former;  the  Count  de  Rochambeau 
and  his  suite,  of  the  latter.  The  French 
troops,  in  complete  uniform,  and  well 
equipped,  made  a  brilliant  appearance,  and 
had  marched  to  the  ground  with  a  band  of 
music  Inlaying,  which  was  a  novelty  in  the 
American  service.  The  American  troops, 
but  part  in  uniform,  and  all  in  garments 
much  the  worse  for  wear,  yet  had  a  spirited 
soldier-like  air,  and  were  not  the  worse  in 
the  eyes  of  their  countrymen  for  bearing 
the  marks  of  hard  service  and  great  priva- 
tions. The  concourse  of  spectators  drawn 
from  all  the  neighboring  country  to  witness 
a  scene  so  thrilling  and  momentous,  was 
almost  equal  in  number  to  the  military, 
but  silence  and  order  prevailed  unbroken. 

The  enthusiasm  throughout  the  country, 
on  the  surrender  of  Cornwallis,  was  un- 
bounded. ^'Cornwallis  is  taken/''  was 
the  message  which  sped  itself  with  the 
wings  of  the  wind  to  every  city,  town  and 
village,  and  was  shouted  by  every  mouth. 
But  the  mortification  of  Cornwallis  was 
intense,  and  the  British  cabinet,  on  hear- 
ing the  news,  turned  pale  with  despair. 
Lords  Germain,  Walsingham,  and  Stor- 
mount,  proceeded  to  Lord  North's'  house, 
and  there,  at  midnight,  announced  to  bim 
the  portentous  dispatch.  The  haughty 
premier  was  astounded  and  humbled.  In 
the  words  of  Lord  Germain,  in  answer  to 
the  inquiry  how  Lord  North  received  the 
news? — "As  he  would  have  received  a  bull 
in  his  breast;  for  he  opened  his  arms,  ex- 
claiming wildly  as  he  paced  up  and  down 
the  apartment,  '  Oh  God  f  It  is  all  over — 
it  is  all  over/'"  King  George  III.  was  at 
Kew,  and  the  intelligence  was  forwarded 
to  him  at  that  place.  He  exhibited  no  loss 
of  self-control,  it  is  said,  notwithstanding 
the  hopes  which  had  been  centered  in  Corn- 


wallis and  his  army,   to  give  triumph  to 
the  British  arms. 

It  is  well  known  that,  during  the  month 
of  November,  the  accounts  received  by  the 
British  government,  of  Lord  Cornwall is's 
embarrassments,  gave  great  anxiet}'  to  the 
cabinet.  Lord  George  Germain,  in  partic- 
ular, conscious  that  on  the  prosperous  or 
adverse  result  of  Cornwallis's  movements 
hinged  the  result  of  the  whole  American 
contest,  as  well  as  his  own  political  fate — 
and  probably  the  duration  of  the  ministry 
itself, — expressed  to  his  friends  the  strong- 
est uneasiness  on  the  subject.  The  meet- 
ing of  parliament  stood  fixed  for  the  27th 
of  that  month.  On  the  25th,  the  official 
intelligence  of  the  unconditional  surrender 
of  the  British  forces  of  Yorktown,  arrived 
at  Lord  Germain's  house.  Lord  Walsing- 
ham, who,  previous  to  his  father.  Sir  Wil- 
liam de  Grey's  elevation  to  the  peerage, 
had  been  under-secretary  of  state  in  that 
department,  and  who  was  to  second  the 
address  in  the  house  of  lords,  hai)pened  to 
be  there  when  the  messenger  brought  the 
news.  Without  communicating  it  to  any 
unofficial  person.  Lord  George,  for  the 
purpose  of  dispatch,  immediately  got  with 
him  into  a  hackney-coach,  and  drove  to 
Lord  Stormount's  residence  in  Portland 
Place.  Having  imparted  the  disastrous 
information  to  him,  they  determined,  after 
a  short  consultation,  to  lay  the  intelligence 
themselves  in  person  before  Lord  North, 
with  what  result  has  already  been  stated 
on  the  authority  of  a  writer  in  Blackwood's 
Magazine. 

Tlie  next  picture  is  that  of  a  cabinet 
council  in  terror.  When  the  first  agitation 
had  subsided,  the  four  ministers  discussed 
the  question,  whether  it  might  not  be  ex- 
pedient to  prorogue  the  meeting  of  parlia- 
ment for  a  few  days  ;  but  as  scarcely  an 
interval  of  fortj'-eight  hours  remained  be- 
fore the  appointed  time  of  meeting,  and  as 
many  members  of  both  houses  had  arrived 
in  London,  or  were  on  their  way,  the  proi> 
osition  was  abandoned.  It  became,  how- 
ever, indispensable  to  alter,  and  almost 
remodel,  the  king's  speech.  This  was 
done  without  delay,  and  at  the  same  time 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


109 


Lord  George,  as  secretary  for  the  American 
department,  sent  off  a  dispatch  to  tlie 
king,  then  at  Kew,  acquainting  him  witli 
Cornwallis^s  fate. 

One  who  was  intimate  in  the  circle  of 
court  actors  and  secrets  at  that  time  says  : 
— I  dined  tliat  day  at  Lord  George's,  and 
although  the  information  which  had 
reached  London  in  the  course  of  the  morn- 
ing from  France,  as  well  as  from  the  offi- 
cial report,  was  of  a  nature  not  to  admit  of 
long  concealment,  yet  it  had  not  been 
communicated  to  me  or  any  other  individ- 
ual of  the  company  when  I  got  to  Pall 
Mall,  between  five  and  six  o'clock.  Lord 
AValsingham,  who  also  dined  there,  was 
then  the  only  person,  except  Lord  George, 
officially  knowing  to  the  fact.  The  party, 
nine  in  number,  sat  down  to  the  table.  I 
thought  the  master  of  the  house  appeared 
serious,  though  he  manifested  no  discom- 
posure. Before  dinner  was  over,  a  letter 
was  brought  from  the  king,  by  the  messen- 
ger who  had  been  dispatched  to  him  with 
the  startling  intelligence.  Lord  Walsing- 
ham  simply  indulged  in  the  observation: 
"  The  king  writes  just  as  he  always  does, 
except  that  I  perceive  he  has  neglected  to 
mark  the  hour  and  minute  of  his  writing 
with  his  usual  precision."  This  remark, 
though  calculated  to  awaken  some  interest, 
excited  no  comment ;  and  while  the  ladies. 
Lord  George's  three  daughters,  remained 
in  the  room,  all  manifestation  of  curiosity 
was  repressed.  But  they  had  no  sooner 
withdrawn,  than  Lord  George  having  com- 
municated the  fact  that  information  had 
just  arrived  from  Paris  of  the  old  Count 
Maurepas,  first  minister  of  the  French 
cabinet,  lying  at  the  point  of  death,  the 
remark  was  made  by  one  of  the  party — ■ 

"  It  would  grieve  me  to  finish  my  career, 
however  far  advanced  in  years,  were  I  first 
minister  of  France,  before  I  had  witnessed 
the  termination  of  this  great  contest  be- 
tween England  and  America." 

"  He  has  survived  to  see  that  event,"  at 
once  replied  Lord  George  Germain,  with 
some  agitation. 

The  conversation  was  continued,  until, 
on  the  more  particular  mention  of  the  Vir- 


ginia campaign,  the  minister  disclosed 
the  full  bearing  of  the  intelligence  he  had 
rc'c-eivod,  saying — 

"The  army  has  surrendered,  and  yon 
may  peruse  the  particulars  of  the  capitula- 
tion in  that  paper." 

The  paper  was  taken  from  his  pocket, 
and  road  to  the  company.  The  next  ques- 
tion was  one  of  rather  an  obtrusive  kind, 
to  learn  what  the  king  thought  on  the 
subject.  In  reply  to  this,  the  minister's 
remark  did  the  highest  credit  to  his  maj- 
esty's firmness,  fortitude  and  consistency. 
The  minister  even  allowed  the  king's  bil- 
let to  be  read,  and  it  was  as  follows : — 

'  I  have  received,  with  sentiments  of  the 
deepest  concern,  the  communication  which 
Lord  George  Germain  has  made  to  me,  of 
the  unfortunate  i-esult  of  the  operations  to 
Virginia.  I  particularly  lament  it,  on 
account  of  the  consequences  connected  with 
it  and  the  difficulties  which  it  may  produce 
in  carrying  on  the  public  business,  or  in 
repairing  such  a  misfortune.  But  I  trust 
that  neither  Lord  Germain,  nor  any  other 
member  of  the  cabinet,  will  suppose  that  it 
makes  the  smallest  alteration  in  those 
principles  of  my  conduct,  which  have  di- 
rected me  in  the  past  time,  which  will  al- 
ways continue  to  animate  me  under  every 
event,  in  the  prosecution  of  the  present 
contest.' 

The  cabinet,  strengthened  by  the  royal 
determination,  now  recovered  courage ; 
they  met  parliament  at  the  appointed  time, 
and  fought  their  battle  there  with  unusual 
vigor.  Perhaps  in  all  the  annals  of  sena- 
torial struggle,  there  never  was  a  crisis 
which  more  powerfully  displayed  the 
talents  of  the  Commons.  Burke,  Fox,  and 
Pitt,  were  at  once  seen  pouring  down  the 
whole  fiery  torrent  of  declamation  on  the 
government. 

But  at  all  events,  the  success  of  the 
siege  of  Yorktown,  it  is  generally  under- 
stood, decided  the  revolutionary  war. 
''  The  infant  Hercules,"  said  Dr.  Franklin, 
"has  now  strangled  the  two  serpents,  that 
attacked  him  in  his  cradle."  All  the  world 
agree  that  no  expedition  was  ever  better 
planned    or    better    executed.      For    the 


110 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


"  great  glory  and  advantage  "  of  Cornwal- 
lis's  subjection,  Washington  afterwards 
acknowledged  himself  chiefly  indebted  to 
the  French  alliance.  And  in  the  proceed- 
ings of  congress  upon  the  matter,  it  was 
amongst  other  things:  'Resolved,  that 
•congress  cause  to  be  erected  at  Yorktown 
■a,  marble  column,  adorned  with  emblems  of 
the  alliance  between  the  United  States 
^and  France,  and  inscribed  with  a  succinct 
narrative  of  the  siege,  and  capitulation.' 
Special  thanks  were  also  tendered  by  that 
body's  A'ote,  to  each  commander  engaged 
in  the  siege ;  and  to  Washington  were 
presented  two  stands  of  colors  taken  from 
the  enemy,  and  two  pieces  of  field  ordnance 
to  Counts  Rochambeau  and  de  Grasse. 

Tlie  next  day  after  the  surrender  was 
the  Sabbath,  and  Washington  ordered 
special  divine  service  in  each  of  the  brig- 
ades of  the  American  army.  He  also  by 
public  proclamation  congratulated  the 
allied  armies  on  the  auspicious  victory, 
awarding  high  praise  to  the  officers  and 
troops,  both  French  and  American,  for 
their  conduct  during  the  siege,  and  speci- 
fying by  name  several  of  the  generals  and 
•other  officers  who  had  especially  distin- 
guished themselves.  All  those  of  his  army 
who  were  under  arrest  were  pardoned  and 
set  free. 

News  of  this  glorious  victory  sped  like 
lightning  over  the  land.  Wasliington  dis- 
patched at  once  one  of  his  aids,  Colonel 
Tilghman,  to  congress,  then  sitting  in 
Philadelphia.  The  swift  rider  dashed  on 
a  gallop  into  the  city  at  midniglit — the 
•clatter  of  his  horse's  hoofs  the  only  sound 
that  broke  the  silence  of  tlie  deserted 
streets,  as  he  pressed  straight  for  the  house 
of  McKean,  then  president  of  congress. 
Thundering  at  the  door  as  though  he 
would  force  an  entrance,  lie  roused  tlie 
.^sleeping  president,  saying,  "Cornwallis  is 
taken !  "  The  watclnnen  caught  the  words, 
and  when  tliey  called  "  One  o'clock,"  they 
added,  "and  Cornwallis  is  taken!"  As 
they  moved  slowly  on  their  nightly  rounds, 
Avindows  were  flung  open  and  eager  coun- 
tenances were  everywhere  scanning  tlie 
streets.     A  hum.  like  that  of  an  awaken- 


ing hive,  immediately  pervaded  the  city. 
The  inhabitants  went  jiouring  into  the 
streets,  while  shout  after  shout  rose  on  the 
midnight  air.  The  old  bellman  w'as  roused 
from  his  slumbers,  and  soon  the  iron 
tongue  of  the  bell  at  the  state-house  rang 
out,  as  of  old,  "Proclaim  liberty  through- 
out all  the  land  to  all  the  inhabitants 
thereof."  The  dawn  was  greeted  with  the 
booming  of  cannon  ;  and  salvos  of  artillery, 
and  shouts  of  joy,  and  tears  of  thanksgiving, 


accomj^anied  the  glad  news  as  it  traveled 
exultingly  over  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  land.  Every  voice  was  loud  in  its 
l^raise  of  General  Washington,  and  of  his 
gallant  ally,  the  Count  de  Rochambeau. 

It  is  stated  as  an  interesting  fact  in  the 
history  of  this  great  event  and  the  charac- 
ter of  the  two  chief  commanders,  that,  on 
the  day  after  the  surrender,  Cornwallis 
went  in  person  to  pay  his  respects  to  Gen- 
eral Washington  and  await  his  orders. 
The  captive  chief  was  received  with  all  the 
cc;.  -'Lcsy  due  to  a  gallant  and  unfortunate 
foe.  The  elegant  manners,  together  with 
the  manly,  frank,  and  soldierly  bearing  of 
Cornwallis,  soon  made  him  a  prime  favor- 
ite at  head-quarters,  and  he  often  formed 
part  of  the  suite  of  the  commander-in- 
chief  in  his  rides  to  inspect  the  leveling  of 
the  works  previous  to  the  retirement  of  the 
combined  American  and  French  armies 
from  before  Yorktown.  At  the  grand  din- 
ner given  at  tlie  head-quarters  to  the  offi- 
cers of  the  three  armies,  "\^^shington  filled 
his  glass,  and,  after  his  favorite  toast, 
whether    in    peace    or    war,   of   "All    our 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


Ill 


friends,"  gave  "The  Britisli  army,"  \vitli 
some  complimentary  remarks  ujion  its 
chief,  his  proud  career  in  arms,  and  liis 
galhxnt  defense  of  Yorktown.  Wlien  it 
came  to  Cornwallis's  turn,  he  prefaced  his 
toast  by  saying  that  the  war  was  virtually 
at  an  end,  and  the  contending  parties 
would  soon  embrace  as  friends ;  there 
might  be  affairs  of  jjosts,  but  nothing  on 
a  more   enlarged  scale,  as  it  was  scarcely 


to  be  expected  that  the  ministry  would 
send  another  army  to  America.  Then 
turning  to  Washington,  his  lordship  con- 
tinued— 

"And  when  the  illustrious  part  that 
your  excellency  has  borne  in  this  long  and 
arduous  contest  becomes  matter  of  history, 
fame  will  gather  your  brightest  laurels 
rather  from  the  banks  of  the  Delaware 
tiian  from  those  of  the  Chesapeake." 


VII. 

ADIEU  TO  THE  ARMY  BY  WASHINGTON.— 1783. 


ikffecting  Interviews  and  Parting  Words  between  the  Great  Chieftain  and  His  Comrades-in-Arms. — 
Solemn  Farewell  Audience  with  Congress. — In  Its  Presence  He  Voluntarily  Divests  Himself  of  His 
Supreme  Authority,  Returns  His  Victorious  Sword,  and  Becomes  a  Private  Citizen. — History  of  the 
Election  of  a  Military  Leader. — America's  Destiny  in  His  Hands. — Appointment  of  George  Wash- 
ington.— The  Army  at  Cambridge,  Mass. — He  Immediately  Takes  Command. — Is  Enthusiastically 
Greeted. — Leads  Its  Fortunes  Seven  Years. — Record  of  His  Generalsliip. — Ends  the  War  in  Tri- 
umph.— Scheme  to  Make  Him  King. — Indignantly  Rebukes  the  Proposal — Last  Review  of  His 
Troops. — His  Strong  Attachment  for  Them — Intention  to  Leave  Public  Life — Congress  Informed  of 
this  Fact. — Embarkation  from  New  York. — Homage  Paid  Him  Everywhere  — Arrival  at  Annapo- 
lis.— Proceeds   to  the  Halls   of  Congress. — Impressive  Ceremonial  There — Rare  Event  in  Human 

History. 

<■>» 

"  Having  now  finished  the  work  assigned  me,  I  retire  from  the  theater  of  action,  and,  bidding  an  affectionate  farewell  to  this  august  body 
under  whose  orders  I  have  so  long  acted,  I  here  offer  my  commission,  and  take  my  leave  of  all  the  employments  of  public  life."— Washiko- 
ton's  Retirement  as  Revolutionaky  Leader. 


HAT  momentous  object  for  which  the  War  of  Independence  was  for 
seven  long  years  waged,  under  the  supreme  leadership  of  General 
Washington,  having  been  achieved  by  the  unconditional  acknowledg- 
ment of  that  independence  on  the  part  of  Great  Britain,  a  cessation 
of  hostilities  was  formally  announced  by  congress  to  a  rejoicing 
people.  Washington's  military  course  having  thus  honorably  and 
successfully  terminated,  he,  Cincinnatus-like,  sheathed  his  sword, 
and  surrendered  his  high  commission  to  that  power  which  had  in- 
vested him  with  its  authority.  It  will,  therefore,  not  only  be  appro- 
priate, but  of  peculiar  interest,  to  link  together,  in  one  narrative,  the 
circumstances  attending  his  appointment  to  the  responsible  office  of 
commander-in-chief  of  the  revolutionary  army,  and  that  last  great 
act — the  Return  of  his  Commission — in  the  stupendous  drama  of 
which  he  was  the  central  figure. 

To  that  sterling  old  patriot,  John  Adams,  the  credit  of  the  wisdom 
of  selecting  Washington  as  military  chieftain  principally  belongs. 
It  was  a  question,  on  the  decision  of  which  hung  the  fate  of  the  rev- 
olutionary cause ;  and  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  among  the  people 
at  large  as  well  as  in  the  more  immediate  circles  of  congress,  by 
whom  the  great  question  was  finally  to  be  determined,  the  discussion 
as  to  who  should  be  chosen  as  the  nation's  leader  in  the  councils  of 
WASHINGTON'S  SWORD.  War  aud  on  the  battle-field,  was  universal.  Mr.  Adams  states  that 
in  regard  to  this  election,  there   was   in  congress  a  southern  party  against  a  north- 


ern,   and    a    jealousy 


against 


a 


Ne 


w 


England 


army    under     the    command    of    a 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


113 


New  England  general ;  but  whether  this 
jealousy  was  sincere,  or  whether  it  was 
mere  pride  and  ambition — the  ambition  of 
furnisliing  a  southern  general  to  command 
the  northern  army, —  was  a  matter  of 
doubt.  The  intention,  however,  was  very 
visible  that  Colonel  Washington  was  their 
object. 

The  military  ability  which  had  been  dis- 
played, on  different  occasions,  by  Colonel 
Washington,  were  well  understood,  and, 
from  the  conspicuous  positions  in  which 
he  had  thus  been  placed,  and  the  saga- 
cious judgment  which  was  known  to  have 
characterized  him  in  important  emergen- 
cies, he  had,  for  a  long  time  past,  enjoyed 
a  fine  reputation  throughout  the  colonies, 
as  a  gallant  and  successful  officer.  He  was 
only  in  a  moderate  sense  a  partisan,  in 
the  difficulties  and  discussions  which  had 
arisen  between  his  own  and  the  mother 
country ;  but,  from  the  very  first,  he  ex- 
hibited sufficient  repugnance  to  any  atti- 
tude of  vassalage,  on  the  part  of  his  coun- 
trymen, to  show  that  he  would  be  no  will- 
ing subject  of  coercion,  should  the  preten- 
sions of  the  British  be  attempted  to  be  car- 
ried out  by  threats,  or  by  recourse  to  arms. 

When  congress  had  assembled,  Mr. 
John  Adams  arose  in  his  place,  and  in  as 
short  a  speech  as  the  subject  would  admit 
represented  the  state  of  the  colonies,  the 
uncertainty  in  the  minds  of  the  people, 
their  great  expectation  and  anxiety,  the 
distresses  of  the  army,  the  danger  of  its 
■dissolution,  the  difficulty  of  collecting  an- 
other ;  and  the  probability  that  the  Brit- 
ish army  would  take  advantage  of  these 
delays,  march  out  of  Boston,  and  spread 
desolation  as  far  as  they  could  go.  He 
concluded  with  a  motion,  in  form,  that 
congress  would  adopt  the  army  at  Cam- 
bridge, and  appoint  a  general ;  that  though 
this  was  not  the  proper  time  to  nominate  a 
general,  yet  as  there  existed  reasons  for 
believing  this  to  be  the  greatest  difficulty, 
he  had  no  hesitation  to  declare  that  there 
was  but  one  gentleman  in  his  mind  for 
that  important  office,  and  that  was  a  gen- 
tleman from  Virginia — one  of  their  own 
number,  and  well  known  to  them  all, — a 
8 


gentleman  whose  skill  and  experience  as  an 
officer,  whose  independent  fortune,  great 
talents,  and  excellent  general  character, 
would  command  the  approbation  of  all 
America,  and  unite  the  cordial  exertions 
of  all  the  colonies  better  than  any  other 
person  in  the  Union. 

Mr.  Washington,  who  happened  to  sit 
near  the  door,  as  soon  as  he  heard  this  al- 
lusion to  himself,  with  his  usual  modest}', 
darted  into  the  library  room. 

The  subject  came  under  debate,  and 
several  gentlemen  declared  themselves 
against  the  appointment  of  Mr.  Washing- 
ton, not  on  account  of  any  personal  objec- 
tion against  him,  but  because  the  army 
were  all  from  New  England,  had  a  general 
of  their  own,  appeared  to  be  satisfied  with 
him,  and  had  proved  themselves  able  to 
imprison  the  British  army  in  Boston. 
Mr.  Pendleton,  of  Virginia,  and  Mr. 
Sherman,  of  Connecticut,  were  very  ex- 
plicit in  declaring  this  opinion.  Mr. 
Cushing  and  others  more  faintly  expressed 
their  opi^osition,  and  their  fears  of  discon- 
tent in  the  army  and  in  New  England. 
Mr.  Paine  expressed  a  great  opinion  of 
General  Ward,  and  a  strong  friendship 
for  him,  having  been  his  classmate  at  col- 
lege, or,  at  least,  his  contemporary  ;  but 
gave  no  opinion  on  the  question.  The 
subject  was  postponed  to  a  future  day.  In 
the  meantime,  pains  were  taken  out  of 
doors  to  obtain  a  unanimity,  and  the  voices 
were  generally  so  clearly  in  favor  of  Wash- 
ington, that  the  dissenting  members  were 
persuaded  to  withdraw  their  opposition, 
and  Mr.  Washington  was  nominated  l>y 
Mr.  Thomas  Johnson,  of  Maryland,  unan- 
imously elected,  and  the  army  adopted. 

His  official  commission  was  at  once 
drawn  up  and  presented  to  him  ;  a  copj^  of 
which  most  interesting  document  is  given 
below : — 

"  hi  Congress.  We  the  delegates  of  the 
United  Colonies  of  New  Hampshire,  Mas- 
sachusetts Bay,  Rhode  Island,  Connecticut, 
New  York,  New  Jerse}^,  Pennsylvania, 
New  Castle,  Kent,  and  Sussex  on  Dela- 
ware, Maryland,  Virginia,  North  Carolina, 
and  South  Carolina, 


114 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


To  George   Washinf/fon,  Esquire  : 

We,  reposing  special  trust  and  confi- 
dence in  your  patriotism,  conduct,  and 
fidelity,  do  by  these  presents  constitute  and 
appoint  you  to  be  General  and  Com- 
mander-in-Chief of  the  army  of  the 
United  Colonies,  and  of  all  the  forces 
raised  or  to  be  raised  by  them,  and  of  all 
others  who  shall  voluntarily  offer  their 
services  and  join  the  said  army  for  the  de- 
fense of  American  liberty,  and  for  repelling 
every  hostile  invasion  thereof.  And  3'ou 
are  hereby  invested  with  full  power  and 
authority  to  act  as  you  shall  think  for  the 
good  and  welfare  of  the  service. 

And  we  do  hereby  strictly  charge  and 
require  all  officers  and  soldiers  under  your 
command  to  be  obedient  to  your  orders, 
and  diligent  in  the  exercise  of  their  several 
duties. 

And  we  do  also  enjoin  and  require  you 
to  be  careful  in  executing  the  great  trust 
reposed  in  you,  by  causing  strict  discipline 
and  order  to  be  observed  in  the  army,  and 
that  the  soldiers  are  duly  exercised  and 
provided  with  all  convenient  necessaries. 

And  you  are  to  regulate  your  conduct  in 
every  respect  by  the  rules  and  discipline 
of  war,  (as  herewith  given  you,)  and  punc- 
tually to  observe  and  follow  such  direc- 
tions, from  time  to  time,  as  you  shall  re- 
ceive from  this  or  a  future  Congress  of  the 
said  United  Colonies,  or  a  Committee  of 
Congress  for  that  purpose  appointed. 

This  commission  to  continue  in  force  till 
revoked  by  this  or  a  future  Congress. 
By  order  of  Congress. 

John  Hancock,  President. 
Dated,  Philadelphia,  June  19,  1775. 
Attest,  Charles  Thomson,  Secretary." 

On  the  second  day  of  July,  1775,  Wash- 
ington arrived  in  Cambridge,  Massachu- 
setts, accompanied  by  Major-General  Lee, 
his  next  in  command,  and  other  officers, 
establishing  his  head-quarters  at  the  man- 
sion subsequently  occupied  by  Longfellow, 
the  elegant  scholar  and  poet.  At  about 
nine  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  next 
day,  Washington,  attended  by  a  suitable 
escort,  proceeded  from  his  head-quarters  to 
a  great  elm  tree — one  of  the  majestic  na- 


tives of  the  forest, — near  Harvard  College, 
and  where  the  continental  forces  were 
drawn  up  in  militar}^  order.  Under  the 
sliadow  of  that  wide-spreading  tree,  Wash- 
ington, moving  forward  a  few  paces,  drew 
his  sword  as  commander-in-chief  of  the 
American  army,  declaring  that  it  should 


THE  WASHINGTON  ELM,   CAMBRIDGE,   MASS. 

never  be  sheathed  until  the  liberties  of  his 
country  were  established.  The  record  of 
his  services  is  the  history  of  the  whole 
war.  Joining  the  army  in  July,  1775,  he 
compelled  the  British  to  evacuate  Boston 
in  March,  1776 ;  he  then  followed  the 
British  to  New  York,  fighting  the  battle 
of  Long  Island  on  the  twenty-seventh  of 
August,  and  that  of  White  Plains  on  the 
twenty-eighth  of  October.  On  the  twenty- 
fifth  of  December  he  made  the  memorable 
passage  of  the  Delaware,  and  soon  gained 
the  victories  of  Trenton  and  Princeton. 
The  battle  of  Brandy  wine  was  fought  on 
the  eleventh  of  September,  1777,  and  that 
of  Germantown,  October  fourth,  Febru- 
ary twenty-eighth,  1778,  witnessed  his 
"glorious  and  happy  day,"  as  he  himself 
tei-med  it,  at  Monmouth.  In  1779  and 
1780  he  conducted  the  military  operations 
in  the  vicinity  of  New  York  ;  after  which, 
in  1781,  he  marched  to  Virginia  to  watch 
the  movements  of  Lord  Cornwallis,  whom 
he  forced  to  surrender  at  Yorktown,  in 
October,  by  Avhich  great  achievement  he 
put  an  end  to  the  active  operations  of  the 
revolutionary  struggle,  and  secured  peace 
and  independence  to  his  country. 

With    the    return    of    peace,    and    the 
achievement   of   independent   nationality, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


115 


the  wisdom  and  patriotism  of  Washington 
were  to  be  severely  tested,  and  in  a  most 
unexpected  manner,  in  connection  with  the 
form  of  government  to  be  adopted  by  the 
United  States.  The  English  government 
was  regarded  by  many  of  the  strongest 
American  minds  as,  in  most  respects,  a 
model  one  ;  and  by  many  persons  the  En- 
glish form  of  a  constitutional  monarchy 
was  decided,  especially  by  some  of  the 
army  officers,  to  be  the  most  promising, 
and  thus  far  the  most  successful,  experi- 
ment in    government,  and    the  one    most 


this  scheme  called  a  secret  meeting,  and 
finally  determined  on  the  title  of  King, 
and  Washington  was  informed  of  the  fact. 
He  spurned  the  gilded  bribe  of  a  king's 
crown,  and  promptly  and  sternly  rebuked 
the  abettors  of  the  scheme  in  the  following 
letter  addressed  to  their  leader : 

"  Sir, — With  a  mixture  of  great  sur- 
prise and  astonishment,  I  have  read  with 
attention  the  sentiments  you  have  sub- 
mitted to  my  perusal.  Be  assured,  sir, 
no  occurrence  in  the  course  of  this  war  has 
given   me   more    painful    sensations    than 


WASHINGTON'S  RESIGNATION. 


likely  to  be  adopted  by  America  upon  due 
deliberation.  Universal  dissatisfaction  was 
felt  with  the  proceedings  and  conduct  of 
congress  as  a  governing  power,  and  there- 
fore some  agency  superior  to  that,  and  of 
controlling  prerogative,  was  proposed, — a 
head,  like  the  English  sovereign,  with 
proper  safeguards  against  usurpation. 
Circumstances,  of  course,  indicated  Wash- 
ington as  that  head,  and  the  next  ques- 
tion naturally  arose — under  what  official 
title  should  such  a  head  rule  ?  The  officers 
around  Newburgh  who  were  associated  in 


your  information  of  there  being  such  ideas 
existing  in  the  army  as  you  have  expressed, 
and  which  I  must  view  with  abhorrence 
and  reprehend  with  severity.  For  the 
present,  the  communication  of  them  will 
rest  in  my  own  bosom,  unless  some  further 
agitation  of  the  matter  shall  make  a  dis- 
closure  necessary.  I  am  much  at  a  loss  to 
conceive  what  part  of  my  conduct  could 
have  given  encouragement  to  an  address 
which  to  me  seems  big  with  the  greatest 
mischiefs  that  can  befall  my  country.  If 
I  am  not  deceived  in  the  knowledge   of 


116 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


,  myself,  you  could  not  have  found  a  person 
to  -whom  your  schemes  are  more  disagree- 
able. At  the  same  time,  in  justice  to  my 
own  feelings,  I  must  add,  that  no  man 
possesses  a  more  serious  wish  to  see  amjile 
justice  done  to  the  army  than  I  do;  and, 
as  far  as  my  power  and  influence,  in  a  con- 
stitutional way,  extend,  they  shall  be  em- 
ployed to  the  utmost  of  my  abilities  to 
effect  it,  should  there  be  any  occasion. 
Let  me  conjure  you,  then,  if  you  have  any 
regard  for  your  country,  concern  for  your- 
self or  posterity,  or  respect  for  me,  to 
banish  these  thoughts  from  your  mind,  and 
never  communicate,  as  from  yourself  or 
any  one  else,  a  sentiment  of  the  like  na- 
ture." 

In  perfect  keeping  with  the  spirit  in 
t which  Washington  treated  the  dazzling 
offer  thus  so  unexpectedly  set  before  him, 
was  the  simplicity  of  his  conduct  in  bid- 
ding adieu  to  his  comrades-in-arms,  and 
then  presenting  himself  before  congress, 
there  to  deliver  up  his  sword,  and  volunta- 
rily divest  himself  of  the  supreme  com- 
mand ; —  in  the  serene  and  thoughtful 
phraseology  of  his  own  words,  ''  to  address 
himself  once  more,  and  that  for  the  last 
time,  to  the  armies  of  the  United  States, 
however  widely  dispersed  the  individuals 
who  compose  them  may  be,  and  to  bid  them 
an  affectionate  and  a  long  farewell." 

For  the  last  time,  he  assembled  them  at 
Newburgh,  when  he  rode  out  on  the  field, 
and  gave  them  one  of  those  paternal  ad- 
dresses which  so  eminently  characterized 
his  relationship  with  his  army.  To  the 
tune  of  "  Roslin  Castle," — the  soldier's 
dirge, — his  brave  comrades  passed  slowly 
by  their  great  leader,  and  filed  away  to  their 
respective  homes.  It  was  a  thrilling  scene. 
There  were  gray-headed  soldiers,  who  had 
grown  old  by  hardships  and  exposures,  and 
too  old  to  begin  life  anew  ;  tears  coursed 
freely  the  furrowed  cheeks  of  these  veter- 
ans. Among  the  thousands  passing  in 
review  before  him  were  those,  also,  who 
had  done  valorous  service  when  the  destiny 
of  the  country  hung  tremblingly  in  the 
balance.  As  Washington  looked  upon 
them  for  the  last  time,   he  said,    "  I  am 


growing  old  in  my  country's  service,  and 
losing  my  sight ;  but  I  never  doubted  its 
justice  or  gratitude."  Even  on  the  rudest 
and  roughest  of  the  soldiery,  the  effect  of 
his  parting  language  was  irresistible. 

On  the  fourth  of  December,  1783,  by 
Washington's  request,  his  officers  in  full 
uniform,  assembled  in  Fraunces's  tavern, 
New  York,  to  take  a  final  leave  of  their 
commander-in-chief.  On  entering  the 
room,  and  finding  himself  surrounded  by 
his  old  companions-in-arms,  who  had 
shared  with  him  so  many  scenes  of  hard- 
ship, difiiculty,  and  danger,  his  agitated 
feelings  overcame  his  usual  self-command. 
Every  man  arose  with  eyes  turned  towards 
him.  Filling  a  glass  of  wine,  and  lifting  it 
to  his  lips,  he  rested  his  benignant  but  sad- 
dened countenance  upon  them,  and  said, — 

"  With  a  heart  full  of  love  and  grati- 
tude, I  now  take  leave  of  you.  I  most  de- 
voutly wish  that  your  latter  days  may  be 
as  prosperous  as  your  former  ones  have 
been  honorable  and  glorious."  Having 
drunk,  he  added,  "  I  cannot  come  to  each 
of  you  to  take  my  leave,  but  shall  be 
obliged  to  you,  if  each  of  you  will  come 
and  take  me  by  the  hand."  A  profound 
silence  followed,  as  each  officer  gazed  on 
the  countenance  of  their  leader,  while  the 
eyes  of  all  were  wet  with  tears.  He  then 
expressed  again  his  desire  that  each  of 
them  should  come  and  take  him  by  the 
hand.  The  first,  being  nearest  to  him, 
was  General  Knox,  who  grasped  his  hand 
in  silence,  and  both  embraced  each  other 
without  uttering  a  word.  One  after  an- 
other followed,  receiving  and  retui-ning  the 
affectionate  adieu  of  their  commander, 
after  which  he  left  the  room  in  silence, 
followed  by  his  officers  in  procession,  to 
embark  in  the  barge  that  was  to  convey 
him  to  Paulus's  Hook,  now  Jersey  City. 
As  he  was  passing  through  the  light  in- 
fantry drawn  up  on  either  side  to  receive 
him.  an  old  soldier,  Avho  was  by  his  side 
on  the  terrible  night  of  his  march  to 
Trenton,  stepped  out  from  the  ranks,  and 
reaching  out  his  arms,  exclaimed,  '^Fare- 
well, my  dear  general,  farewell!  "  Wash- 
ington seized  his  hand  most  heartily,  when 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


117 


the  soldiers  forgot  all  discipline,  rushed 
towards  their  chief,  and  bathed  him  with 
their  tears.  The  scene  was  like  that  of  a 
good  patriarch  taking  leave  of  his  children, 
and  going  on  a  long  journey,  from  whence 
he  might  return  no  more. 

Having  entered  the  barge,  he  turned  to 
the  weeping  company  upon  the  wharf,  and 
waving  his  hat,  bade  them  a  silent  adieu. 
They  stood  with  heads  uncovered,  until 
the  barge  was  hidden  from  their  view, 
when,  in  silent  and  solemn  procession,  they 
returned  to  the  place  where  they  had  as- 
sembled. Congress  was  at  this  time  in 
session  at  Annapolis,  Maryland,  to  which 
place  Washington  now  proceeded,  greeted 
along  his  whole  route  with  enthusiastic 
homage,  for  the  purpose  of  formally  resign- 
ing his  commission.  He  arrived  on  the 
nineteenth  of  December,  1783,  and  the 
next  day  he  informed  congress  of  the  pur- 
pose for  which  he  had  come,  and  requested 
to  know  whether  it  v.ould  be  their  pleas- 
ure that  he  should  offer  his  resignation  in 
writing,  or  at  an  audience.  A  committee 
was  appointed  by  congress,  and  it  was  de- 
cided that  on  Tuesday,  December  twenty- 
third,  the  ceremonial  should  take  place  as 
follows : — 

The  president  and  members  are  to  be 
seated  and  covered,  and  the  secretary  to 
be  standing  by  the  side  of  the  president ; 
the  arrival  of  the  general  to  be  announced 
by  the  messenger  to  the  secretary,  who  is 
thereupon  to  introduce  the  general,  at- 
tended by  his  aids,  into  the  hall  of  con-, 
gress ;  the  general,  being  conducted  to  a 
chair  b}^  the  secretary,  is  to  be  seated,  with 
an  aid  on  each  side  standing,  and  the 
secretary  is  to  resume  his  place.  After  a 
proper  time  for  the  arrangement  of  spec- 
tators, silence  is  to  be  ordered  by  the  sec- 
retar}',  if  necessary,  and  the  president  is  to 
address  the  general  in  the  following 
words :  "  Sir, — The  United  States  in  con- 
gress assembled  are  prepared  to  receive  your 
communications."  Whereupon  the  gen- 
eral is  to  arise  and  address  congress  ;  after 
which  he  is  to  deliver  his  commission  and 
a  copy  of  his  address  to  the  president. 
The  general  having  resumed  his  place,  the 


president  is  to  deliver  the  answer  of  con- 
gress, which  the  general  is  to  receive 
standing;  the  president  having  finished, 
the  secretary  is  to  deliver  the  general  a 
copy  of  the  answer,  and  the  general  is  then 
to  take  his  leave.  When  the  general  rises 
to  make  his  address,  and  also  when  he 
retires,  he  is  to  bow  to  congress,  which 
they  are  to  return  by  uncovering  without 
bowing. 

When  the  hour  arrived,  the  president, 
General  Mifflin,  informed  him  that  that 
body  was  prepared  to  receive  his  commu- 
nications. With  a  native  dignity,  height- 
ened by  the  solemnity  of  the  occasion,  the 
general  rose.  In  a  brief  and  appropriate 
speech  he  offered  his  congratulations  on 
the  termination  of  the  war,  and  having 
alluded  to  his  object  in  appearing  thus  in 
that  presence, — that  he  might  resign  into 
the  hands  of  congress  the  trust  committed 
to  him,  and  claim  the  indulgence  of  retir- 
ing from  the  public  service, — he  concluded 
with  those  affecting  Avords,  which  drew 
tears  from  the  eyes  of  all  in  that  vast  as- 
sembly : 

"  I  consider  it  an  indispensable  duty  to 
close  this  last  act  of  my  official  life,  by 
commending  the  interests  of  our  dearest 
country  to  the  protection  of  Almighty 
God,  and  those  who  have  the  superintend- 
ence of  them,  to  his  holy  keeping.  Having 
now  finished  the  Avork  assigned  me,  I 
retire  from  the  theater  of  action,  and, 
bidding  an  affectionate  farewell  to  this 
august  body,  vinder  whose  orders  I  have  so 
long  acted,  I  here  offer  my  commission, 
and  take  my  leave  of  all  the  employments 
of  public  life." 

After  advancing  to  the  chair,  and  deliv- 
ering his  commission  to  the  president,  he 
returned  to  his  place,  and  remained  stand- 
ing, while  General  Mifflin  replied,  review- 
ing the  great  career  thus  brought  to  a 
close,  and  saying,  in  conclusion : 

"  The  glory  of  your  virtues  will  not  ter- 
minate Avith  your  military  command;  it 
Avill  continue  to  animate  the  remotest  ages. 
We  join  with  you  in  commending  the  in- 
terests of  our  country  to  Almighty  God, 
beseeching  Him  to  dispose  the  hearts  and 


118 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


minds  of  its  citizens  to  improve  the  op- 
portunity afforded  them  of  becoming 
a  happy  and  respectable  nation.  And 
for  you,  we  address  to  Him  our  warm- 
est  prayers,  that   a  life   so   beloved  may 


be  fostered  with  all  His  care,  that  your 
days  may  be  as  happy  as  they  have  been 
illustrious,  and  that  He  will  finally  give 
you  that  reward  which  this  world  cannot 
bestow." 


VIII. 


APPOINTMENT    OF    THE   FIRST   MINISTER   PLENIPOTEN- 
TIARY,  FROM   THE   NEW  REPUBLIC   TO  THE 
ENGLISH  COURT.— 1T85. 


John  Adams,  America's  Sturdiest  Patriot,  and  the  Foremost  Enemy  of  British  Tjranny,  Fills  tliis 
High  Office — Interview  between  Ilim  and  King  George,  His  Late  Sovereign. — Tiieir  Addresses, 
Temper,  Personal  Bearing,  and  Humorous  Conversation. — Tiie  Two  Men  Rightly  Matched  Against 
Each  Other. — Old  Animosities  Unhealed  — Mutual  Charges  of  False  Dealing. — Settlement  Demanded 

by  the  United  States. — What  Adams's  Mission  Involved. — Dismemberment  of  tiie  British  Realm. 

Loss  of  the  Fairest  Possession. — Bitter  Pill  for  the  King. — His  Obstinacy  Forced  to  Yield  —Humilia- 
tion of  the  Proud  Monarch. — All  Europe  Watches  the  Event. — Mr.  Adams  Presented  at  Court. — Pa- 
triot and  King  Face  to  Face. — Official  Address  by  the  Minister. — Reply  of  King  George. — His  Visi- 
ible  Agitation. — Adams's  Presence  of  Mind. — Pays  His  Homage  to  the  Queen  — Her  Majesty's  Re- 
sponse— Civilities  by  the  Royal  Family. — Results  of  this  Embassy. — Pitiable  Position  of  George  the 
Third. — Fatal  Error  of  Great  Britain. 


"I  must  avow  to  your  majesty,  I  have  no  attachment  but  to  my  own  country."— JOHW  Adaus  to  Kino  Georoe. 
"An  honest  man  will  have  no  other."— Tais  Ki.no's  I.vstant  Rei-ly. 


g3  O  deep-seated  and  festering  were 
the  old  animosities  between  Amer- 
ica and  the  mother  country,  that, 
scarcely  had  the  war  of  the  revo- 
lution terminated,  when  the  two 
nations  reciprocally  charged  each 
other  with  violating  the  treaty  of 
peace.  The  United  States  were 
accused  of  having  infringed  those 
articles  which  contained  agree- 
ments respecting  the  payment  of 
debts,  the  confiscation  of  propert}', 
and  prosecution  of  individuals  for  the  part  taken  by  them  during  the  war.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  English  were  charged  with  violating  that  article  which  stipulated 
against  the  destruction  or  carrying  away  of  any  description  of  American  property- ; 
the  king  was  also  complained  of,  for  still  retaining  possession  of  the  posts  on  the 
American  side  of  the  great  lakes,  thus  influencing  the  Indian  tribes  to  hostility; 
and,  above  all  other  sources  and  causes  of  complaint,  in  the  conduct  of  Great  Britain, 
was  her  rigorous  and  restrictive  commercial  system. 

These  growing  misunderstandings  between  the  two  countries,  discussed  with  such 
angry  vehemence  on  both  sides,  threatened  such  serious  consequences  should  their  adjust- 
ment be  much  longer  delayed,  that  congress  determined  upon  the  important  step  of 


AMITY  BETWEEN   ENGLAND  AND  AMERICA. 


120 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


appointing,  after  the  manner  of  independ- 
ent nations,  a  Minister  Flenipotentiary  to 
the  court  of  Great  Britain  ! 

In  February,  1785,  John  Adams  was 
duly  accredited  ambassador,  to  represent 
the  United  States  at  that  court. 

That  George  the  Third  was  as  obstinate 
a  man  as  ever  ruled  a  kingdom,  no  histo- 
rian has  ever  questioned.  Having  struck 
at  the  rights  and  liberties  of  America,  in 
order  to  add  to  the  riches  of  his  coffers, 
nothing  could  turn  him  from  his  determin- 


ation to  rule,  or  to  ruin  and  destroy.  To 
the  suggestion  that  the  king's  rule  over 
the  colonies  might  be  slightly  softened  or 
modified,  Lord  North  despairingly  replied  : 
"  It  is  to  no  purpose  the  making  objec- 
tions, for  the  king  will  have  it  so."  But 
in  no  more  forcible  phrase  could  the  king's 
arbitrary  temper  concerning  his  colonies 
be  shown,  that  in  that  which  fell  from  his 
own  lij)s,  in  the  presence  of  the  new  en- 
voy, namely,  "  /  xoas  the  last  man  in  the 
kingdom,  sir,  to  consent  to  the  independ- 
ence of  America." 

Of  all  the  opponents  of  British  misrule, 
in  the  western  world,  John  Adams  was 
the  earliest,  ablest,  most  intrepid  and  un- 
tiring.      It   was    John     Adams,    who,    in 


1775,  in  the  memorable  continental  con- 
gress, at  Philadelphia,  suggested  George 
Washington  as  commander-in-chief  of  the 
army  that  was  to  wage  war  against  Great 
Britain — and,  even  before  this  crowning 
act,  had  sent  across  the  Atlantic,  ringing 
into  the  ears  of  the  haughty  monarch,  the 
epithets  tyrant  and  usurper. 

The  kingly  ceremony  of  acknowledging 
the  colonies  independent  took  place,  in  conr- 
formity  with  previous  arrangements,  on 
the  fifth  of  December,  1782,  in  the  hou»e 
of  lords.  The  scene  was  one  which 
drew  together  an  immense  and  won- 
dering crowd  of  spectators,  conspicu- 
ous among  M'hom  was  the  celebrated 
admiral  Lord  Howe,  who  had  just  re- 
turned from  a  successful  relief  of 
Gibraltar,  and  who  had  now  elbowed 
himself  exactly  in  front  of  the  throne, 
to  listen,  sadly,  to  his  country's  hu- 
miliation. The  ladies  of  the  nobility 
occupied  the  lords'  seats  on  the  wool- 
sacks, so  called,  as  an  emblem  of  the 
power  and  wealth  of  old  England, 
because  it  had  been  mainly  derived 
from  wool.  The  lords  were  standing 
here  and  there  promiscuously.  It 
was  a  dark  and  foggy  day,  and  the 
windows  being  elevated  and  con- 
structed in  the  antiquated  style,  with 
leaden  bars  to  contain  the  diamond- 
cut  panes  of  glass,  augmented  the 
gloom.  The  walls  were  also  hung 
with  dark  tapestry,  representing  the  de- 
feat of  the  great  Spanish  armada.  Tlie 
celebrated  American  painters.  West  and 
Copley,  were  in  the  throng,  with  some 
American  ladies,  also  a  number  of  dejected- 
looking  American  royalists.  After  a 
tedious  suspense  of  nearly  two  hours,  the 
approach  of  the  king  was  announced  by  a 
tremendous  roar  of  artillery.  He  entered 
by  a  small  door  on  the  left  of  the  throne, 
and  immediately  seated  himself  in  the  chair 
of  state,  in  a  graceful  attitude,  with  his 
ritrht  foot  resting  on  a  stool.  He  was 
clothed  in  the  magnificent  robes  of  British 
majesty.  Evidently  agitated,  he  drew 
slowly  from  his  pocket  a  scroll  containing 
his  humbling  speech.     The  commons  were 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


121 


summoned,  and,  after  the  bustle  of  their 
entrance  had  subsided,  the  thrilling  mo- 
ment arrived,  when  the  speech  was  to  be 
read.  After  some  general  remarks,  usual 
on  public  occasions,  he  said : 

"  I  lost  no  time  in  giving  the  necessary 
orders  to  prohibit  the  further  prosecution 
of  offensive  war  upon  the  continent  of 
North  America.  Adopting,  as  my  inclin- 
ation will  always  lead  me  to  do,  with  de- 
cision and  effect,  whatever  I  collect  to  be 
the  sense  of  my  parliament  and  my  people, 
I  have  pointed  all  my  views  and  measures, 
in  Europe,  as  in  North  America,  to  an 
entire  and  cordial  reconciliation  with  the 
colonies.  Finding  it  indispensable  to  the 
attainment  of  this  object,  I  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  go  to  the  full  length  of  the  power 
vested  in  me,  and  therefore  I  now  declare 
them  " — here  he  paused,  in  evident  agita- 
tion, either  embarrassed  in  reading  his 
speech,  by  the  darkness  of  the  room,  or 
affected  by  a  very  natural  emotion,  but, 
recovering  himself  in  a  moment  by  a 
strong  conA'^ulsive  movement,  he  added — 
"yV'ee  and  independent  states.  In  thus 
admitting  their  separation  from  the  crown 
of  this  kingdom,  I  have  sacrificed  every 
consideration  of  my  own,  to  the  wishes  and 
opinions  of  my  people.  I  make  it  my 
humble  and  ardent  praj-er  to  Almighty 
God,  that  Great  Britain  may  not  feel  the 
evils  which  might  result  from  so  great  a 
dismemberment  of  the  empire,  and  that 
America  may  be  free  from  the  calamities 
which  have  formerly  proved,  in  the  mother 
country,  how  essential  monarchy  is  to  the 
enjoyment  of  constitutional  liberty.  Re- 
ligion, language,  interests,  and  affection 
may,  and  I  hope  will,  yet  prove  a  bond  of 
permanent  union  between  the  two  coun- 
tries." 

It  was  universally  remarked  of  King 
George,  that,  though  celebrated  for  read- 
ing his  speeches  in  a  distinct,  composed, 
and  impressive  manner,  he  was  on  this 
occasion  painfully  lacking  in  his  usual 
self-possession ;  he  hesitated,  choked,  and 
executed  the  high  but  humbling  duties  of 
the  occasion,  in  a  manner  which  showed 
that  he  was  deeply  mortified. 


Mr.  Adams  was  at  Paris  when  he  re- 
ceived information  of  his  appointment,  in 
1785,  to  confront  his  late  king  and  royal 
master.  In  an  account  given  by  Mr. 
Adams  himself,  of  his  movements  at  this 
time,  he  says :  At  Versailles,  the  Count 
de  Vergennes  said  he  had  many  felicita- 
tions to  give  me  upon  my  appointment  to 
England.  I  answered  that  I  did  not 
know  but  it  merited  compassion  more  than 
felicitation.  "Ay,  why?"  "Because,  as 
3'ou  know,  it  is  a  species  of  degradation,  in 
the  eyes  of  Europe,  after  having  been  ac- 
credited to  the  king  of  France,  to  be  sent 
to  any  other  court." 

"But  permit  me  to  say,"  rej^lies  the 
count,  "it  is  a  great  thing  to  be  the  first 
ambassador  from  your  country  to  the 
countrij  you  sprang  from.     It  is  a  mark." 

One  of  the  foreign  ambassadors  said  to 
me — 

"  You  have  been  often  in  England." 

"  Never,  but  once  in  November  and  De^ 
cember,  1783." 

"  You  have  relations  in  England,  no 
doubt." 

''  None  at  all." 

"  None,  how  can  that  be  ?  you  are  of 
English  extraction." 

"Neither  my  father  or  mother,  grand- 
father or  grandmother,  great  grandfather 
or  great  grandmother,  nor  any  other  rela- 
tion that  I  know  of,  or  care  a  farthing  for, 
has  been  in  England  these  one  hundred 
and  fifty  years  ;  so  that  you  see  I  have  not 
one  drop  of  blood  in  my  veins  but  what  is 
American." 

"  Ay,  we  have  seen  proof  enough  of 
that.'' 

In  the  month  of  May,  INIr.  Adams  trans- 
ferred himself  and  family  to  the  other  side 
of  the  channel,  prepared  to  undertake  the 
new  duties  to  which  he  had  been  ap- 
pointed. The  first  thing  to  be  done  was 
to  go  through  the  ceremon}-  of  presenta- 
tion to  the  sovereign  ;  to  stand  face  to  face 
with  the  man  whom  he  had  for  the  first 
forty  years  of  his  life  habitually  regarded 
as  his  master,  and  who  never  ceased  to 
regard  him,  and  the  rest  of  his  country- 
men, as  no  better  than   successful    rebels 


122 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


against  his  legitimate  authority.  In  his 
dispatch  to  Mr.  Jay,  then  American  secre- 
tary of  foreign  affairs,  Mr.  Adams  gave 
the  following  very  interesting  account  of 
this  meeting : — 

At  one  o'clock  on  Wednesday,  the  first 
of  June,  1785,  the  master  of  ceremonies 
called  at  my  house,  and  went  with  me  to  the 
secretary  of  state's  office,  in  Cleveland  Row, 
where  the  Marquis  of  Carmarthen  received 
and  introduced  me  to  Mr.  Frazier,  his 
under    secretary,    who    had    been,    as    his 


attended  by  the  master  of  ceremonies,  the 
room  was  very  full  of  ministers  of  state, 
bishops,  and  all  other  sorts  of  courtiers,  as 
well  as  the  next  room,  which  is  the  king's 
bed-chamber.  You  may  well  suppose  I 
was  the  focus  of  all  eyes.  I  was  relieved, 
however,  from  the  embarrassment  of  it,  by 
the  Swedish  and  Dutch  ministers,  who 
came  to  me  and  entertained  me  with  a  very 
agreeable  conversation  during  the  whole 
time.  Some  other  gentlemen,  whom  I 
had  seen  before,  came  to  make  their  com- 


FIKST  MINISTER  TO  ENGLAND.      KECEPTION  OF  JOHN  ADAMS. 


lordship  said,  uninterruptedly  in  that  office, 
through  all  the  changes  in  administration, 
for  thirty  years.  After  a  short  conversa- 
tion, Lord  Carmarthen  invited  me  to  go 
with  him  in  his  coach  to  court.  When  we 
arrived  in  the  ante-chamber,  the  master  of 
ceremonies  introduced  him,  and  attended 
me  while  the  secretary  of  state  went  to 
take  the  commands  of  the  king.  While  I 
stood  in  this  place,  where  it  seems  all  min- 
isters stand  upon    such  occasions,  always 


pliments  to  me,  until  the  IVIarquis  of  Car- 
marthen returned  and  desired  me  to  go  with 
him  to  his  majesty.  I  went  with  his 
lordship  through  the  levee  room  into  the 
king's  closet.  The  door  was  shut,  and  I 
was  left  with  his  majesty  and  the  secretary 
of  state  alone.  I  made  the  three  rever- 
ences :  one  at  the  door,  another  about  half- 
way, and  another  before  the  presence, 
according  to  the  usage  established  at  this 
and  all  the  northern  courts  of  Europe,  and 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


123 


then  I  addressed  myself  to  liis  majesty  in 
the  following  words : 

"Siue:  The  United  States  have  ap- 
pointed me  minister  plenipotentiary  to 
your  majesty,  and  have  directed  me  to 
deliver  to  your  majesty  this  letter,  which 
contains  the  evitlcnce  of  it.     It  is  in  obe- 


.■*■■..•  rr---s 


/dimJldamA 


dience  to  their  express  commands,  that  I 
have  the  honor  to  assure  your  majesty  of 
their  unanimous  disposition  and  desire  to 
cultivate  the  most  friendly  and  liberal  in- 
tercourse between  your  majesty's  subjects 
and  their  citizens,  and  of  their  best  wishes 
for  your  majesty's  health  and  happiness, 
and  for  that  of  your  family. 

The  appointment  of  a  minister  from  the 
United  States  to  your  majesty's  court  will 
form  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  England 
and  America.  I  think  myself  more  fortu- 
nate than  all  my  fellow-citizens,  in  having 
the  distinguished  honor  to  be  the  first  to 
stand  in  your  majesty's  royal  presence  in 
a  diplomatic  character,  and  I  shall  esteem 
myself  the  happiest  of  men,  if  I  can  be 
instrumental  in  recommending  my  countr}^ 
more  and  more  to  your  majesty's  roj'al 
benevolence,  and  of  restoring  an  entire 
esteem,  confidence,  and  affection ;  or,  in 
better  words,  '  the  old  good  nature  and  the 
good  old  humor,'  between  people  who, 
though  separated  by  an  ocean,  and  under 
different  governments,  have  the  same  lan- 
guage, a  similar  religion,  a  kindred  blood. 
I  beg  your  majesty's   permission  to  add, 


that,  although  I  have  sometimes  before 
been  instructed  by  my  country,  it  was 
never  in  my  whole  life  in  a  nuxnner  so 
agreeable  to  myself." 

The  king  listened  to  every  word  I  said, 
with  dignity,  it  is  true,  but  with  apparent 
emotion.  Whether  it  was  my  visible  agi- 
tation, for  I  felt  more  than  I  could  ex- 
press, that  touched  him,  I  cannot  say; 
but  he  was  much  affected,  and  ansAvered 
me  with  more  tremor  than  I  had  spoken 
with,  and  said — 

"  Sir  :  The  circumstances  of  this  audi- 
ence are  so  extraordinary,  the  language 
you  have  now  held  is  so  extremely  proper, 
and  the  feelings  you  have  discovered  so 
justly  adapted  to  the  occasion,  that  I  not 
only  receive  with  pleasure  the  assurance 
of  the  friendly  disposition  of  the  United 
States,  but  I  am  glad  the  choice  has  fallen 
upon  you  to  be  their  minister.  I  wish  you, 
sir,  to  believe,  that  it  may  be  understood 
in  America,  that  I  have  done  nothing  in 
the  late  contest  but  what  I  thought  myself 
indispensably  bound  to  do,  by  the  duty 
which  1  owed  my  people.  I  will  be  frank 
with  you.  I  was  the  last  to  conform  to 
the  separation ;  but  the  separation  having 
become  inevitable,  I  have  always  said,  as  I 
now  say,  that  I  would  be  the  first  to  meet 
the  friendship  of  the  United  States  as  an 
indejiendent  power.  The  moment  I  see 
such  sentiments  and  language  as  yours  pre- 
vail, and  a  disposition  to  give  this  country 
the  preference,  that  moment  I  shall  say,  let 
the  circumstances  of  language,  religion, 
and  blood,  have  their  natural,  full  effect." 

The  king  then  asked  me  whether  I  came 
last  from  France;  upon  my  answering  in  the 
affirmative,  he  put  on  an  air  of  familiarity, 
and,  smiling,  or  rather  laughing,  said — 

"There  is  an  opinion  among  some  peojile 
that  you  are  not  the  most  attached  of  all 
your  countrymen  to  the  manners  of 
France." 

"  That  ojiinion,  sir,  is  not  mistaken  ;  I 
must  avoiv  to  your  majesty,  I  have  no  at- 
tachment hut  to  my  own  country^ 

The  king  replied  as  quick  as  lightning — 

'■'■An  honest  man  will  have  no  other  J^ 

The  king  then  said  a  word  or  two  to  the 


124 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


secretary  of  state,  which,  being  between 
them,  I  did  not  hear,  and  then  turned 
round  and  bowed  to  me,  as  is  customary 
with  all  kings  and  princes  when  they  give 
the  signal  to  retire.  I  retreated,  stepping 
backwards,  as  is  the  etiquette,  and  making 
my  last  reverence  at  the  door  of  the  chamber. 

Mr.  Adams  was  yet  to  pay  his  first 
court  of  homage  to  the  queen.  He  was 
presented  to  her  on  the  ninth  of  June,  by 
Lord  Allesbury,  her  lord-chamberlain, — 
having  first  been  attended  to  his  lordship 
and  introduced  to  him  by  the  master  of 
the  ceremonies.  The  queen  was  accompa- 
nied by  her  ladies-in-waiting,  and  Mr. 
Adams  made  his  compliments  to  her  maj- 
esty in  the  following  words : 

''Madam, — Among  the  many  circum- 
stances which  have  rendered  my  mission 
to  his  majesty  desirable  to  me,  I  have  ever 
considered  it  a  principal  one,  that  I  should 
have  an  opportunity  of  paying  my  court 
to  a  great  queen,  whose  royal  virtues  and 
talents  have  ever  been  acknowledged  and 
admired  in  America,  as  well  as  in  all  the 
nations  of  Europe,  as  an  example  to  prin- 
cesses and  the  glory  of  her  sex. 

Permit  me,  madam,  to  recommend  to 
your  majesty's  royal  goodness  a  rising  em- 
pire and  an  infant  virgin  world. 

Another  Europe,  madam,  is  rising  in 
America.  To  a  philosophical  mind,  like 
your  majesty's,  there  cannot  be  a  more 
pleasing  contemplation,  than  the  prospect 
of  doubling  the  human  species,  and  aug- 
menting, at  the  same  time,  their  prosperity 
and  happiness.  It  will,  in  future  ages,  be 
the  glory  of  these  kingdonis  to  have  peo- 
pled that  country,  and  to  have  sown  there 
those  seeds  of  science,  of  liberty,  of  virtue, 
and  permit  me,  madam,  to  add,  of  piety, 
which  alone  constitute  the  prosperity  of  na- 
tions and  the  happiness  of  the  human  race. 

After  venturing  upon  such  high  insinu- 
ations to  your  majesty,  it  seems  to  be  de- 
scending too  far,  to  ask,  as  I  do,  your 
majesty's  royal  indulgence  to  a  person  who 
is  indeed  unqualified  for  courts,  and  who 
owes  his  elevation  to  this  distinguished 
honor  of  standing  before  your  majesty,  not 
to  any  circumstances  of  illustrious  birth. 


fortune,  or  abilities,  but  merely  to  an 
ardent  devotion  to  his  native  country,  and 
some  little  industry  and  perseverance  in 
her  service." 

To  this  address  of  Mr.  Adams,  the 
queen  answered,  in  the  accustomed  royal 
brevity,  as  follows : 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,  for  your  civilities  to 
me  and  my  family,  and  am  glad  to  see 
you  in  this  country." 

The  queen  then  asked  Mr.  Adams  if  he 
had  provided  himself  with  a  house,  to 
which  question  answer  was  made  that  he 
had  agreed  for  one  that  morning.  She 
then  made  her  courtesy,  and  the  envoy 
made  his  reverence,  retiring  at  once  into 
the  drawing-room,  where  the  king,  queen, 
princess  royal,  and  the  younger  princess, 
her  sister,  all  spoke  to  the  new  minister 
very  courteously. 

But,  notwithstanding  the  memorable 
historical  bearings  of  this  mission  of  the 
great  American  statesman,  as  first  ambas- 
sador of  the  new-born  republic,  to  his  late 
august  sovereign, — a  mission  which  riveted 
the  attention  of  the  civilized  world, — and 
although  George  the  Third  had  submitted 
with  dignity  to  the  painful  necessity  of  such 
a  meeting,  the  embassy  was  attended  with 
no  permanently  favorable  result  either  to 
America  or  to  Mr.  Adams.  Indeed,  of  the 
many  humiliations  which  befell  the  un- 
happy George,  perhaps  few  were  felt  so 
bitterly  as  this  almost  compulsory  inter- 
view with  the  representative  of  a  i:)eople, 
once  his  subjects,  afterwards  rebels,  and 
now  free.  Well  and  truthfully  has  the 
historian  said,  that,  in  the  conduct  of  the 
king,  on  this  occasion,  the  obvious  wisdom 
of  conciliating  the  3'oung  and  rising  nation 
on  the  western  side  of  the  Atlantic  was 
forgotten,  and  the  error  of  supercilious 
neglect  was  preferred.  Throughout  the 
whole  political  history  of  Great  Britain 
this  marked  fault  may  be  traced  in  its 
relations  with  foreign  nations,  but  it  never 
showed  itself  in  more  striking  colors  than 
during  the  first  half  century  after  the  in- 
dependence of  the  United  States.  The 
effects  of  the  mistake  then  committed  have 
been  perceptible  ever  since. 


IX. 


FIRST    ORGANIZED    REBELLION"   IN  THE    UNITED 

STATES.— 1786. 


Daniel  Shays,  at  the  Head  of  an  Armed  and  Desperate  Force,  Boldly  Defies  the  State  and  Federal 
Lasvs  in  Massadiuselts — "  Taxation  and  Tyranny"  the  Alleged  Grievances — Alarming  Disaffection 
Throughout  all  New  England. — Bad  Leaders  and  Furious  Mobs. — Kout  of  the  Insurgents,  by  General 
Lincoln,  in  the  Dead  of  Winter. — Patriotic  Old  Massachusetts  in  a  Ferment. — Causes  of  Publie  Dis- 
content— Total  Exhaustion  of  Credit— Prostration  of  Trade — Ruinous  Debts,  Heavy  Taxation  — 
Weakness  of  the  Government. — An  Excited  Populace. — Turbulence  and  Lawlessness. — All  Authority 

Spurned. — A  Bloody  Conflict  Invited  — Courts  of  Justice 
Broken  Up. — Indignation  of  Washington  — Heroism  on 
the  Bench  — The  National  Forces  Augmented. — Fears 
of  a  General  Civil  War — Unscrupulousness  of  Shays  — 
Intention  to  Seize  the  Capital — Governor  Bowdoin's  De- 
fenses.— General  Lincoln  in  Command. — Active  Move- 
ment of  His  Troops. — A  Terrible  Snow-Storm. — Hard- 
ships of  Shays's  Army. — Federal  Bayonets  Triumphant. 


"  Sirs,  I  shall  sit  here  as  a  judse,  or  die  here  as  a  penerall"— Replt  OF 
General  Cobb,  a  MaS8acuu»eits  Jui^ge,  to  a  Slmkohs  to  Diisolte 
uis  Court. 


NE  of  the  most  noteworthy  facts  in  the  history 
of  the  early  period — the  first  decade — of  the 
American  Republic,  is,  that  in  the  state  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, the  state  which  had  been  foremost  in 
the  war  of  independenre  against  Great  Britain, 
occurred  the  first  instance  of  armed  and  organ- 
scEXE  IN  SHAYS'S  REBELLION.  izpd  rebellion  against  the  situation  and  conduct 

of  public  affairs  consequent  upon  the  changed  character  of  the  government  and  its 
administrators.  It  will  be  necessary,  however,  not  only  in  behalf  of  the  consistency 
of  popular  government,  but  as  vindicating  the  patriotic  old  commonwealth  in  question 
from  any  imputation  of  lawless  proclivities,  to  narrate,  first,  some  of  the  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances which  brought  distress  to  a  large  class  of  citizens,  and  provoked  jjolitical 
discontent,  finally  culminating  in  bloody  sedition. 

For  a  considerable  period  after  the  people  of  the  United  States  had  secured  peace, 
through  British  acknowledgment  of  their  independence,  was  the  exhausting  effect  felt 
by  them,  of  their  exertions  in  so  hard-fought  and  prolonged  a  contest.  The  popular 
enthusiasm,  excited  by  a  victorious  termination  of  the  struggle,  began  to  subside,  and 
the  sacrifices  of  the  revolution  soon  became  known  and  felt.  The  claims  of  those  who 
toiled,  and  fought,  and  suffered  in  the  arduous  contest,  were  strongly  urged,  and  the 
government  had  neither  resources  nor  power  to  satisfy  or  to  silence  them.     The  wealth 


126 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


of  the  country  had  been  totally  exhausted 
during  the  revolution,  and,  worse  than  all, 
the  public  credit  had  become  so  shaken 
and  prostrated  as  to  be  a  mere  by-word, 
at  home  and  abroad,  no  matter  what  might 
be  the  pledges  of  security  proffered.  Taxes 
could  not  be  collected,  because — even  if  for 
no  other  reason, — there  was  no  money  to 
represent  the  value  of  the  little  personal 
property  which  had  not  been,  and  the  land 
which  could  not  be,  destroyed;  and  com- 
merce, though  preparing  to  burst  from  its 
thraldom,  had  not  yet  had  time  to  restore 
to  the  annual  produce  of  the  country  its  ex- 
changeable value.  The  states  owed  each  a 
heavy  debt  for  local  services  rendered 
during  the  revolution,  for  which  it  was 
bound  to  provide,  and  each  had  its  own 
domestic  government  to  support. 

The  causes  of  discontent  which  thus  ex- 
isted after  the  restoration  of  peace,  in 
every  part  of  the  Union,  were  perhaps  no- 
where more  operative  than  in  New  En- 
gland, growing  out  of  the  following  circum- 
stances :  The  great  exertions  which  had 
been  put  forth  by  those  states  in  the  course 
of  the  war,  had  accumulated  a  mass  of 
debt,  the  taxes  for  the  payment  of  which 
were  felt  as  peculiarly  burdensome,  be- 
cause the  fisheries  of  this  j^eople  had  be- 
come so  iHiproductive.  This  important 
branch  of  industry,  which,  before  the  revo- 
lutionary war,  had  in  some  measure  com- 
pensated for  the  want  of  those  rich  staples 
that  were  possessed  by  the  middle  and 
southern  colonies,  liad  been  unavoidably 
neglected  during  the  struggle  for  inde- 
pendence ;  and,  as  a  consequence  of  that 
independence,  had  not  only  been  deprived 
of  the  encouragements  under  which  it  had 
flourished,  but  its  produce  was  excluded 
from  markets  which  had  formerly  been 
opened  to  it.  The  restlessness  produced 
by  the  uneasy  situation  of  individuals,  to- 
gether with  lax  notions  concerning  public 
and  private  faith,  and  erroneous  02:)inions, 
tended  to  confound  liberty  with  an  exemp- 
tion from  legal  control. 

This  turbulent  spirit  was  carried  out 
and  encouraged,  with  great  effect  upon  the 
minds  of  the  populace,  by  public  conven- 


tions, which,  after  voting  their  own  con- 
stitutionality, and  assuming  the  name  and 
authority  of  the  people,  arrayed  themselves 
against  the  regular  legislative  power,  and 
declared  in  the  most  exciting  language  the 
grievances  by  which  they  alleged  them- 
selves to  be  oppressed. 

Reckless  and  desperate,  a  body  of  mal- 
contents entered  the  legislative  chamber 
at  Exeter,  New  Hampshire,  and  deliber- 
ately overpowered  and  made  prisoners  the 
general  assembly  of  the  state  ;  the  citizens, 
however,  rose  and  crushed  the  movement 
in  a  few  hours. 

But  the  center  of  this  spirit  of  lawless 
violence  throughout  New  England,  culmin- 
ated in  1786,  in  the  state  of  Massachu- 
setts, where,  on  account  of  the  calamitous 
interruption  of  the  regular  trades  and  oc- 
cupations, on  land  and  sea,  a  vast  number 
of  the  male  population,  principally  young 
men,  became  impoverished,  and  were 
thrown  upon  society.  The  general  court, 
or  legislature,  of  Massachusetts,  had  found 
it  necessary  to  impose  taxes  which,  perhaps, 
in  any  case  would  have  been  ill-received, 
but  which,  in  the  existing  state  of  feeling 
and  social  disorganization,  led  to  general 
resistance  and  open  rebellion.  The  dis- 
contented, led  on  by  ambitious  and  un- 
principled leaders,  provided  themselves 
with  arms  of  every  description ;  they  had 
seen  the  country  free  itself  from  the  tyr- 
anny of  Britain  by  these  means,  and  now 
they  were  about  to  try  the  same  against 
what  they  considered  the  tyrann}^  of  their 
own  government.  Things  continued  to  go 
on  in  this  way  for  some  time,  when,  the 
number  of  the  malcontents  becoming  so 
large  and  formidable,  the  militia  were 
called  out  to  protect  the  sittings  of  the 
courts,  which  it  was  the  object  of  the  in- 
surgents to  prevent ;  and  so  conciliatory 
and  considerate  was  the  government,  that 
their  grievances  were  made  the  subject  of 
repeated  and  anxious  counsel,  and  as  much 
as  possible  redressed.  Bills  were  passed 
for  diminishing  legal  costs,  law  charges 
being  at  that  time  enormous  ;  and  for  al- 
lowing the  payment  of  taxes  and  private 
debts  in  specific  articles  instead  of  coin. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORAIiLE  EVENTS. 


127 


of  which  latter  there  was  scarce- 
ly any  in  circulation  ;  as  well  as 
for  applj'ing  certain   revenues, 
formerly  devoted  to  other  pur- 
poses, to  the  payment  of  govern- 
mental dues.     So  far  were  con-     "''' 
cessions  made ;  still  the  agitation  contin- 
ued, and  the  habeas  corpus  act  was  sus- 
pended for  eight  months.     Nevertheless, 
though  every  preparation  was  thus  made  to 
secure  protection  to  the  government,  full 
pardon  for  past  offenses  was  promised  to 
all,  if  they  would  cease  from  their  illegal 
agitations. 

Doubtless,  but  for  the  daring  and  des- 
peration of  one  man,  Daniel  Shays,  order 
would  have  been  restored. 

Great  anxiety  filled  the  minds  of  the 
patriotic  statesmen  throughout  the  coun- 
try, at  this  state  of  anarchy ;  and  from 
the  bosom  of  Washington,  in  especial, 
there  went  forth  utterances  of  profound 
indignation  and  alarm.  "For  God's  sake 
tell  me,"  said  he  in  a  letter  to  Colonel 
Humphrej-s,  "  what  is  the  cause  of  all 
these  commotions  ?  do  they  proceed  from 
licentiousness,  British  influence  dissemin- 
ated by  the  tories,  or  real  grievances 
which  admit  of  redress  ?  if  the  latter,  why 
was  redress  delayed  until  the  public  mind 
had   become   so   much   agitated  ?    if   the 


former, 
are 

powers 
government 
triedatonce? 
it  is  as  well 
to  be  with- 
out   as   not  to  SHATS'.S  forces  in  MASSACHUSETTS. 

exercise  them.  Commotions  of  this  sort, 
like  snowballs,  gather  strength  as  they 
roll,  if  there  is  no  opposition  in  the  way  to 
divide  and  crumble  them."  Such  was 
Washington's  horror  of  this  Massachusetts 
tumult. 

Colonel  Humphreys,  while  acknowledg- 
ing his  inabilit}'  to  give  any  adequate  ex- 
planation of  the  cause  and  origin  of  the 
difliculties,  yet  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that 
they  were  attributable  to  all  the  three 
causes  which  AVashington  had  suggested 
—  that,  in  Massachusetts  particular!}-, 
there  were  a  few  real  grievances,  and  also 
some  wicked  agents  or  emissaries  who 
made  it  their  business  to  magnify  every 
existing  evil,  and  to  foment  causeless  jeal- 


128 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ousies  and  commotions.  Under  the  influ- 
ence of  sucli  examples,  it  was  plain  to  see 
that  there  had  become  prevalent  among 
many  of  the  people  a  licentious  spirit,  a 
leveling  principle,  a  desire  of  change,  and 
a  wish  to  annihilate  all  debts,  both  public 
and  private. 

The  force  of  this  party  throughout  New 
England  was  computed  at  twelve  or  fifteen 
thousand  men,  chiefly  of  the  young  and 
active  part  of  the  community,  who  were 
more  easily  collected  than  kept  together. 
Many  of  these  were  desperate  and  unprin- 
cipled, opposed  to  all  good  government  and 
legal  discipline,  and  consequently  ready, 
when  any  demagogue  should  light  the 
spark  of  violence,  to  commit  overt  acts  of 
treason  and  bring  on  a  bloody  civil  war. 
This  state  of  things  alarmed  greatly  the 
friends  of  law  and  order,  and  made  them 
firm  in  the  conviction  that  there  needed  to 
be  established,  above  all  things,  a  govern- 


ment for  the  people  of  tlio  United  States, 
Avliicli  should  have  the  power  to  protect 
them  in  their  lawful  pursuits,  and  which 
would  be  efficient  in  cases  of  internal 
commotions,  or  foreign  invasions,  —  a  gov- 
ernment resting  upon  liberty,  and  regu- 
lated by  laws  firmly  administered. 

The  mob  spirit  grew  more  and  more 
rampant  in  Massachusetts,  and,  in  spite 
of  the  vigilance  which  the  authorities  now 
put  forth,  generally  succeeded  in  its  demon- 
strations of  violence,  and  in  thwarting  the 
plans  of  that  faithful  and  energetic  chief 
magistrate,   Governor  Bowdoin.      In  one 


instance,  however,  at  least,  their  proceed- 
ings in  this  respect  were  summarily 
brought  to  a  stand.  This  was  in  the  town 
of  Taunton,  where  Judge  Cobb,  formerly 
an  officer  under  Washington,  and  still  one 
of  the  state-militia  generals,  was  holding 
a  court  session  at  the  time.  On  the  ar- 
rival of  the  insurgents  at  the  court-house, 
General  Cobb  promptly  confronted  them, 
and,  after  exhorting  them  to  render  that 
obedience  to  the  laws  which  is  binding 
on  every  citizen,  emphatically  declared  to 
them,  "  Sirs !  I  shall  sit  here  as  a  judge, 
or  die  here  as  a  rjeneral!  "  Knowing  him 
to  be  a  man  who  knew  his  rights  and 
would  maintain  them  at  any  cost,  the  mob, 
though  more  numerous  than  the  force  that 
General  Cobb  could  summon,  concluded 
that  the  safest  course  for  them  to  pursue 
was  to  disperse. 

Ostensibly   on   account   of    the    danger 
which  threatened  the  frontiers,  but  really, 
it  would  seem,  with  a  view  to  the  sit- 
uation  of    affairs    in    Massachusetts, 
congress  had  agreed  to  augment  the 
military    establishment    to    a    much 
larger  and   more  effective   standard, 
and   had    detached   the   secretary  of 
war.  General  Knox,  to  the  eastward, 
with  directions  to  concert   measures 
with  the  government  of  the  state  for 
the  safety  of  the  public  arsenals.     So 
unfavorable,  indeed,  was  the  aspect  of 
affairs,  that  fears  Avere  seriously  en- 
*    tertained  that  the  torch  of  civil  dis- 
cord, about  to  be  lighted  up  in  Massa- 
chusetts, would  communicate  its  flame 
to  all  New  England,  and  perhaps  spread 
the  conflagration  throughout  the  Union. 

A  few  of  the  agitators  having,  at  length, 
been  seized  and  lodged  in  Boston  jail, — 
the  details  of  which  will  be  found  more 
particularly  narrated  on  a  subsequent  page, 
— the  exasperation  of  their  associates  was 
greatly  increased,  and  in  a  short  time  they 
organized  themselves  as  an  armed  force, 
under  the  command  of  Daniel  Shays,  Luke 
jDay,  and  Eli  Parsons ;  but  some  little 
time  elapsed  before  the  state  was  fully 
prepared  to  show  its  military  power, 
though   the  riotous  interference  with  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


129 


courts  of  justice  was  repeatedly  enacted. 
In  the  account  of  tliese  proceedings  given 
by  that  excellent  and  most  reliable  histo- 
rian, Mr.  Lossing,  it  is  stated  that,  while 
the  legislature  was  in  session,  early  in 
November,  there  were  indications  that  an 
attempt  would  be  made  to  interfere  with 
tlie  sittings  of  the  supreme  court  about  to 
be  held  in  Middlesex  county.  General 
Brooks,  a  gallant  officer  of  the  revolution, 
in  command  of  the  militia  of  that  district, 
was  ordered  to  have  a  strong  force  in 
readiness  to  march  to  Cambridge  if  neces- 
sary. Among  those  summoned,  and  held 
in  readiness,  were  three  regiments  and 
four  artillery  companies  of  Middlesex 
county,  and  one  company  of  infantry  and 
one  of  artillery,  in  Boston.  Tliis  formida- 
ble display  made  the  jMidJlesex  malcon- 
tents invisible  and  silent  at  that  time. 
Brooks  was  a  fine  officer,  and  had  showed 
himself  a  gallant  adherent  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief during  the  conspiracy  or 
mutiny  which  took  place  in  Newburgh 
camp  at  the  close  of  the  revolutionary  war. 
Washington  requested  him  to  keep  his 
officers  within  quarters,  that  they  might 
not  attend  the  insurgent  meeting,  his  reply 
was — 

"Sir,  I  have  anticipated  your  wishes, 
and  my  orders  are  given." 

"  Colonel  Brooks,  this  is  just  what  I  ex- 
pected from  3'ou,"  was  the  reply  of  the 
chieftain,  as  he  took  the  gallant  colonel  by 
the  hand. 

The  legislature  adjourned  after  a  session 
of  six  weeks.  Their  dispersion  was  the 
signal  for  greater  activitj^  on  the  part  of 
the  insurgents.  They  held  several  meet- 
ings in  the  western  counties,  and  severel}"^ 
censured  the  measures  recently  adopted  by 
the  legislature.  They  resolved,  by  acclam- 
ation, to  resist  the  execution  of  the  laws 
of  the  state ;  and  everywhere,  among  un- 
principled men,  the  most  lawless  and 
alarming  spirit  was  manifested.  The  len- 
iency of  the  governor  was  called  cowardice. 
The  acts  of  the  legislature  were  denounced 
as  instruments  of  tyranny.  The  people 
were  excited  by  inflammatory  appeals. 
They  were  incited  to  acts  of  violence,  and 


the  courts  of  justice  were  again  interfered 
with.  Toward  the  close  of  November,  the 
sitting  of  the  general  court  of  sessions  at 
Worcester  was  prevented  by  an  armed 
mob,  who,  taught  by  demagogues,  and  be- 
lieving that  they  owed  no  other  obedience 
to  government  but  in  so  far  as  tliej'  might 
approve  its  measures,  declared  that  they 
had  the  right,  if  they  chose,  to  dispense 
with  all  laws  which  were  obnoxious  to 
them,  and  that  they  intended  to  set  tlie 
state  authorities  at  defiance.  In  Hamp- 
shire and  Middlesex  counties,  similar  bold 
demonstrations  were  made.  Governor 
Bowdoin  perceived  that  the  time  for  ar- 
gument and  persuasion  was  at  an  end,  and 
that  the  safety  of  the  commonwealth,  now 
really  in  danger,  must  be  secured  by  ener- 
getic measures.  He  accordingly  issued  a 
general  order  for  the  major-generals 
throughout  the  state  to  see  that  the  mili- 
tia, under  their  respective  commands,  were 
equipped,  and  ready  to  respond  to  an_y 
sudden  demand  for  their  services.  This 
order  inflamed  the  leaders  of  the  malcon- 
tents and  their  deluded  followers,  and  the 
insurrection  now  began  to  assume  the 
alarming  form  of  a  rebellion.  The  leaders, 
expecting  severe  punishment  in  the  event 
of  failure,  became  desperate,  and  were 
ready  to  employ  desperate  measures  iot 
the  accomplishment  of  their  wicked 
scheme-  They  also  lioped  to  secure  a  suf- 
ficient number  of  adherents  or  defenders 
to  procure  the  governor's  pardon  in  the 
event  of  their  failure.  They  were  doomed 
to  be  disajipointed. 

In  December,  a  large  number  of  the  in- 
surgents assembled  at  Concord,  expecting 
to  be  joined  by  others  from  Bristol,  Wor- 
cester, and  Hampshire  counties.  Their 
object  was  to  prevent  the  sitting  of  the 
court  at  Cambridge,  the  dictation  of  meas- 
ures to  the  governor,  and  the  suspen- 
sion, for  a  time  at  least,  of  the  usual  proc- 
esses of  law.  It  is  evident,  that,  while 
these  objects  were  acknowledged,  they  in- 
tended, if  possible,  to  seize  the  capital, 
take  possession  of  the  archives,  and  pro- 
claim a  provisional  government.  But  the 
project  failed,   and  three   of    the    leading 


130 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


traitors  of  ^Middlesex  soon  found  them- 
selves within  the  walls  of  a  Boston  jail. 
The  sheriff,  in  the  execution  of  his  Avar- 
rant  for  their  arrest,  was  accompanied  by 
a  number  of  influential  gentlemen  and  a 
company  of  Boston  cavalry,  who  volun- 
teered their  services. 

Shays  and  his  followers,  desperate  but 
determined, — for  success  or  utter  ruin  Avas 
the  alternative  presented, — turned  their 
faces  westward,  and  marched  upon  Spring- 
field for  tlie  purpose  of  interfering  with 
the  sitting  of  the  court  appointed  for  the 
twenty-sixth  of  December,  and,  if  strong 
enough,  to  seize  the  continental  arsenal  at 
tliat  place.  They  arrived  there  on  the 
twenty-fifth,  took  possession  of  tlie  court- 
house, and  presented  to  the  judges  a  writ- 
ten declaration  that  the  court  should  not 
transact  business.  The  powerless  judges 
were  compelled  to  submit. 

Finding  that  the  lenient  measures  which 
liad  tlnis  far  been  taken  by  the  legislature 
to  subdue  tlie  violence  of  the  insurgents 
only  enlarged  their  demands, —  that  the 
pardon  proffered  to  those  who  would  re- 
turn to  their  duty  was  rejected  with  scorn, 
— tliat  the  conciliating  efforts  of  govern- 
ment only  increased  their  audacity, — and 
that  they  Avere  proceeding  with  more  and 
more  energy  to  marshal  their  military 
forces  for  an  aggi  >  've  movement, — Gov- 
ernor Bowdoin,  ^\llc  '^ad  probably  been 
restrained  by  the  temp  \  of  the  house  of 
representatives  from  an  earlier  resort  to 
the  final  extremity,  at  length  determined, 
witli  the  advice  of  council,  on  a  vigorous 
exertion  of  all  the  powers  he  possessed, 
for  the  protection  and  defense  of  the  com- 
monwealth. Upwards  of  four  thousand 
militia  Avere  ordered  into  service,  and  Avere 
placed  under  tlie  command  of  the  veteran 
General  Lincoln,  Avhose  gallant  military 
reputation,  and  well-balanced  judgment, 
rendered  him  doubly  capacitated  for  so 
critical  and  important  a  trust. 

It  Avas  in  the  depth  of  an  unusually  se- 
vere winter,  and  Avhich  caused  bitter  suf- 
fering, that  the  troops  thus  raised  in  the 
eastern  part  of  the  state  assembled  near 
Boston,  and  marched  towards  the  scene  of 


action.  Those  from  the  western  counties 
met  in  arms  under  General  Shepard,  an 
officer  who  had  served  Avith  honor  during 
the  Avar  of  the  rcAolution,  and  took  close 
possession  of  the  federal  arsenal  at  Spring- 


r^^^2^^^^ 


y 


field.  Before  the  arrival  of  Lincoln,  a  party 
of  the  insurgents  presented  themselves 
before  the  arsenal  and  demanded  its  sur- 
render. Attempting  to  carry  out  their 
demand,  General  Shejjard,  after  warning 
and  entreating  them  to  retire,  fired  upon 
them.  The  first  discharge  Avas  over  their 
heads  ;  they  took  no  notice  of  it.  Tlie  sec- 
ond was  into  the  ranks ;  a  cry  of  "  Mur- 
der ! "  arose,  and  all  fled  in  confusion, 
leaving  three  men  dead  on  the  field  and 
one  Avounded.  Urging  his  march  Avith  the 
utmost  celerity,  Lincoln  soon  came  up,  and 
pressing  the  insurgent  army,  endeavored 
by  a  succession  of  rapid  moA'ements,  in 
which  the  ardor  of  his  troops  triumphed 
over  the  extreme  severity  of  the  season,  to 
disperse  or  bring  it  to  action.  But  the 
insurgents  fled  to  Pelham,  Avhere  they 
posted  themselves  upon  tAvo  hills,  rendered 
almost  inaccessible  by  the  great  fall  of 
snow.  Tliey  used  all  their  address  to  pro- 
duce a  suspension  of  hostilities  until  an 
ac(;ommodation  might  be  negotiated  Avith 
the  legislature, — believing,  as  they  did, 
that,  if  they  could  keep  up  their  influence 
until  another  choice  of  legislature  and  gov- 
ernor came  around,  matters  might  be 
molded  to  their  liking.  Shays  now  of- 
fered to  lay  down  his  arms  on  condition  of 
general  pardon,  which  Lincoln,  however, 
Avas  not  empoAvered  to  grant.     At  length, 


I 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


131 


sorely  pressed  for  food,  a  sudden  retreat 
was  made  to  Petersham.  Discovering 
this,  Lincoln  set  off  at  six  in  the  evening, 
and  marching  all  night,  forty  miles, 
through  intense  cold  and  a  di'iving  storm, 


reached  Petersham  by  daybreak,  to  the 
astonishment  of  the  rebels,  who  liad  not 
the  least  idea  of  this  movement,  and  ac- 
cordingly tied  ill  dismay  or  were  iiAav 
prisoners. 


X. 

FORMATION  AND  ADOPTION  OF  THE  FEDERAL  CONSTI- 
TUTION.—178  T. 


The  United  States  no  Longer  a  People  Witliout  a  Government. — Establishment  of  the  Republic  on  a 
Permanent  Foundation  of  Unity,  Organic  Law  and  National  Polity. — Dignity,  Learning,  and  Elo- 
quence of  the  Delegates. — Sublime  Scene  on  Signing  the  Instrument. — Extraordinary  Ciiaracter  of 
the  Whole  Transaction. — State  of  Things  After  the  War — Financial  Embarrassment — Despondency 
of  the  People. — Grave  Crisis  in  Public  Affairs. — A  Grand  Movement  Initiated — Plan  of  Government 
to  be  Framed. — All  the  States  in  Convention — Washington  Chosen  to  Preside. — Statesmen  and  Sages 
in  Council. — The  Old  Compact  Abrogated. — New  Basis  of  Union  Proposed. — Various  Schemes  Dis- 
cussed.— Jealousy  of  the  Smaller  States. — Angry  Debates,  Sectional  Threats. — Bad  Prospects  of  the 
Convention. — Its  Dissolution  Imminent  — Franklin's  Impressive  Appeal. — Compromise  and  Concilia- 
tion— Final  System  Agreed  Upon. — Patriotism  Rules  all  Hearts. — llatiflcation  by  the  States — Na- 
tional Joy  at  the  Decision. 


■■  Should  the  states  reject  this  excellent  Constitution,  the  probability  is  that  an  opportunity  will  never  ag:nin  be  offered  to  cancel  another  in 
peace— the  next  will  be  drawn  in  blood."— Remaisk  of  Wasiii.noton  on  Sio.vixo  tue  Constitutios. 


ENROLLING  THE  CONSTITUTION. 


^  HOUGH  the  close  of  the 
war  of  independence 
resulted  in  the  establish- 
ment of  a  free  national- 
ity, it   nevertheless 
brought    anxious    solici- 
,  V-s,    tude    to    every    patriot's 
^%W         mind,  and  this   state  of 
"'  ~^  apprehension  and  disqui- 

etude increased  with  each 
succeeding  j'ear.  Tlie 
state  debts  which  had 
been  incurred  in  anticipation  of  prosperous  times,  operated  severely,  after  a  while,  on 
all  cla.sses  in  the  community;  to  meet  the  payment  of  these  debts,  at  maturity,  was 
impossible,  and  every  relief-act  only  a<lded  to  the  difficulty.  This,  and  kindred 
troubles,  financial  and  governmental,  impressed  the  people  with  tlie  gloomy  conviction 
that  the  great  work  of  independence,  as  contemplated  in  the  revolutionary  struggle, 
was  only  half  done.  It  was  felt  that,  above  all  things,  a  definite  and  organic  form 
of  government — reflecting  the  will  of  the  people — should  be  fixed  upon,  to  give  energy 
to  national  jrawor,  and  success  to  individual  and  public  enterprise.  So  portentous  a 
crisis  as  this  formed  another  epoch  for  the  display  of  the  intellectual  and  political 
attainments  of  American  statesmen,  and  the  ordeal  was  one  through  which  they  passed 
witli  tlir  highest  honor,  and  with  ever-enduring  fame,  at  home  and  abroad.  New  men 
appeared  on  the  stage  of  legislative  council  and  action,  and  it  was  found  that  the  quan- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


133 


tity  of  talent  and  information  necessary  in 
the  formation  period  of  a  new  republic 
had  greatly  increased  in  tlie  various  states. 
l>ut,  in  especial,  the  great  minds  that 
achieved  the  revolution  bi'held  with  deep 
concern  their  coiintry  impoverished  and 
distracted  at  home,  and  of  no  considera- 
tion among  the  family  of  nations. 

A  change  was  now  to  be  wrought,  the 
grandeur  of  which  would  be  acknowledged 
througliout  all  lands,  and  its  iuq)ortance 
reach  forward  to  the  setting  of  the  sun  of 
time.  The  same  hall  which  had  resounded 
with  words  of  patriotic  defiance  that  shook 
the  throne  of  King  George  and  proclaimed 
to  an  astonished  world  tlie  Declaration  of 
Independence, — that  same  hall  in  whicli 
congress  had  continued  to  sit  during  the 
greater  part  of  the  momentous  period  in- 
tervening,— in  the  state  house  at  Phila- 
delphia, was  soon  to  witness  the  assem- 
bling of  such  a  body  of  men  as,  in  point  of 
intellectual  talent,  personal  integrity,  and 
lofty  purpose,  had  perhaps  never  before 
been  brought  together.  The  curious  stu- 
dent of  this  page  in  modern  history  has 
sometimes  plausibly  but  speciously  attrib- 
uted to  mere  chance — instead  of  to  that 
Providence  which  rules  in  the  affairs  of 
men — this  timely  and  grand  event.  Thus, 
General  Washington,  having  contemplated 
with  great  interest  a  plan  for  uniting  the 
Potomac  and  the  Ohio  rivers,  and  by  this 
means  connecting  the  eastern  and  western 
waters,  made  a  journey  of  six  hundred  and 
eighty  miles  on  horseback,  taking  minute 
notes  of  everything  which  could  be  subserv- 
ient to  this  project.  His  influence,  and 
the  real  importance  pf  the  design,  induced 
the  legislatures  of  Virginia  and  Maryland 
to  send  commissioners  to  Alexandria  to 
deliberate  on  the  subject.  They  met  in 
March,  1785,  and  having  spent  some  time 
at  Mount  Vernon,  determined  to  recom- 
mend another  commission,  which  might 
establish  a  general  tariff  on  imports.  The 
Virginia  legislature  not  only  agreed,  but 
invited  the  other  states  to  send  deputies 
to  meet  at  Annapolis.  In  September, 
1786,  they  had  arrived  from  fiive  only,  and 
with  too  limited   powers.     A  number  of 


able  statesmen,  however,  were  thus  assem- 
bled, who,  feeling  deeply  the  depressed 
and  distracted  state  of  the  country,  became 
sensible  that  something  on  a  much  greater 
scale  was  necessary  to  raise  her  to  pros- 
perity, and  give  her  a  due  place  among 
the  nations.  They  therefore  drew  up  a 
report  and  address  to  all  the  states, 
strongly  representing  the  inefficiency  of 
the  present  federal  government,  and  earn- 
estly urging  them  to  send  delegates  to 
meet  at  Philadelphia  in  IMay,  1787.  Con- 
gress responded  to  this  proceeding  in  Feb- 
ruary, by  the  passage  of  resolutions  rec- 
ommending the  proposed  measure, — but  of 
which,  perhaps,  they  did  not  then  contem- 
plate all  the  momentous  results. 

On  the  day  appointed  for  the  meeting 
of  the  convention,  May  fourteenth,  1787, 
only  a  small  number  of  the  delegates  had 
arrived  in  Philadelphia.  The  delibera- 
tions did  not  commence,  therefore,  until 
May  twenty-fifth,  when  there  were  pres- 
ent twenty-nine  members,  representing 
nine  states.  Others  soon  after  came  in, 
till  the  whole  number  amounted  to  fift}-- 
five.  Never,  perhaps,  had  any  body  of 
men  combined  for  so  great  a  purpose — to 
form  a  constitution  which  was  to  rule  so 
numerous  a  people,  and  probably  during 
so  many  generations.  The  members,  con- 
sisting of  the  very  ablest  men  in  America, 
were  not  unworthy  of,  nor  unequal  to,  so 
high  a  trust. 

Towering  above  all  these  men  of  might, 
in  his  world-wide  fame  and  in  the  genius 
of  his  personal  ascendency,  was  WasJiing- 
ton,  intrusted  by  the  commonwealth  of 
A'irginia  with  the  work  of  cementing  to- 
gether the  sisterhood  of  states  in  one  in- 
dissoluble bond  of  mutual  interest,  co-ope- 
ration, and  renown.  And  there  was  Ruf  us 
King,  from  Massachusetts,  j'oung  in  j-ears, 
but  mature  in  wisdom  and  brilliant  in  ora- 
tory ;  Langdon,  from  New  Hampshire, 
strong  in  his  understanding  and  readily 
mastering  the  most  intricate  details  ;  El- 
bridge  Gerry,  of  ISIassachusetts,  exhibiting 
the  utmost  zeal  and  fidelity  in  the  per- 
formance of  his  official  duties;  Caleb 
Strong,  from  the  same  state,  plain  in  lii-^ 


134 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-187G. 


CONVENTION   AT  THI  I.ADELPHIA,   1787. 


appearance,  but  calm,  firm,  intelligent,  and 
well-balanced ;  Ellsworth,  from  Connecti- 
cut, elegant  in  liis  manners,  and  distin- 
guished for  his  energy  of  mind,  clear 
reasoning  powers,  and  effective  eloquence; 
Sherman,  his  colleague,  a  statesman  and 
jurist  Avhose  fame  has  extended  far  beyond 
the  western  world ;  Hamilton,  from  New 
York,  spare  and  fragile  in  person,  but 
keen,  active,  laborious,  transcendent  in 
his  abilities  and  of  unsullied  integrity; 
Livingston,  from  New  Jersey,  of  scholarly 
tastes,  uncomi)romisingly  republican  in  his 
politics,  and  fearless  in  the  expression  of 
his  opinions;  Franklin,  from  Pennsylvania, 
one  of  the  profoundest  philosophers  in  the 
world,  and,  though  now  rising  of  four- 
score years,  capable  of  grasping  and  throw- 
ing light  upon  the  most  recondite  ques- 
tions relating  to  the  science  of  govern- 
ment ;  Robert  Morris,  from  Pennsylvania, 
the  great  financier,  of  whom  it  has  been 
said,  and  with  much  truth,  that  'the 
Americans  owed,  and  still  owe,  as  much 
acknowledgment  to  the  financial  operations 
of  Robert  Morris,  as  to  the  negotiations  of 


Benjamin  Franklin,  or  even  to  the  arms 
of  George  AVashington ; '  Gouverneur 
INIorris,  from  the  same  state,  conspicuous 
for  his  accomplishments  in  learning,  his 
fluent  conversation,  and  sterling  abilities 
in  debate;  Clymer,  distinguished  among 
the  sons  of  Pennsylvania,  as  one  of  the 
first  to  raise  a  defiant  voice  against  the 
arbitrary  acts  of  the  mother  country ; 
Mifiiin,  another  delegate  from  the  land  of 
Penn,  ardent  almost  beyond  discretion,  in 
zeal  for  his  country's  rights  and  liberties; 
Dickinson,  from  New  Jersey,  a  jiatriot, 
who,  though  the  only  member  of  the  con- 
tinental congress  ojiposed  to  the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence,  on  the  ground  of  its 
being  premature,  was  nevertheless  the  only 
member  of  that  bod}^  Avho  immediately 
shouldered  his  musket  and  went  forth  to 
face  the  enemy  ;  Wythe,  from  Virginia, 
wise,  grave,  deeply  versed  in  the  law,  and 
undaunted  in  the  defense  of  liberty  for  the 
the  people;  IMadison,  also  from  Virginia, 
talented,  thoughtful,  penetrating,  one  of 
the  brightest  ornaments  of  his  state  and 
nation;   Martin,  from  jMaryland,  a  jurist 


GilEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


135 


of  vast  attainments  and  commanding 
powers;  Davie,  from  North  Carolina,  of 
splendid  pbytsitpie,  one  of  the  master-minds 
of  the  country  ;  Kutledge,  from  South  Car- 
olina, pronounced  by  Washington  to  be 
the  finest  orator  in  the  continental  con- 
gi-e>s;  Pinckney,  from  the  same  state, 
a  soldier  and  lawyer  of  unrivaled  abili- 
ties;— and  thus  the  record  might  go  on, 
until  it  embraced  all  the  names  of  this 
eminent  assemblage  of  America's  nrblest 
patriots  and  most  illustrious  historic  char- 
acters, "  all,  all,  honorable  men." 

On  proceeding  with  the  organization  of 
the  convention,  George  Washington  was 
nominated  by  Hobert  Morris  to  preside 
over  its  deliberations,  and  was  unanimously 
elected.  The  standing  rules  were  then 
adopted,  one  of  these  being  that  nothing 
spoken  in  the  house  be  printed  or  other- 
wise published,  or  made  known  in  any 
manner,  without  special  j^ermission.  And 
in  this  connection,  the  following  little  epi- 
sode, which  has  come  to  light,  Avill  doubt- 
less be  read  as  a  refreshing  reminiscence 
of  the  ''secret"  doings  among  those  grave 
old  worthies : 

One  of  the  members  of  the  Georgia  del- 
egation was   Mr.  ,  a  gentleman,  the 

zeal  of  whose  legislative  mind  and  efforts 
sometimes  quite  ate  up  his  attention  to 
mere  extraneous  matters.  Like  all  the 
rest  of  his  associates  in  the  assembly,  he 
had  been  furnished  with  a  schedule  of  the 
principal  points  of  debate,  or  subjects  of 
consideration,  which  were  to  be  brought 
before  the  convention  as  constituting  its 
business,  and,  in  accordance  with  the  par- 
liamentary usage  of  secrecy,  this  pro- 
gramme of  the  convention's  duties  and 
deliberations  was  with  especial  care  to  be 
kept  from  disclosure  during  the  period  of 
its  sittings.  It  happened,  however,  that 
one  of  the  delegates  unfortunately  lost  his 
copy  of  this  official  schedule  or  orders  of 
the  day.  General  Mitflin,  one  of  the  del- 
egates from  Pennsylvania,  by  good  chance 
discovered  the  stray  document,  and,  ex- 
plaining the  circumstances  to  Washing- 
ton, placed  it  in  the  latter's  hands,  who, 
in  silence  and  gravity,  deposited  it  among 


his  own  papers.  At  the  close  of  that  day's 
proceedings,  and  just  previously  to  the 
convention's  rising,  Washington,  as  pre- 
siding otiicer,  called  the  attention  of  the 
assembly  to  the  matter  in  question,  in  the 
following  characteristic  remarks  : 

"  Gentlemen,  I  am  sorry  to  find  that 
some  one  member  of  this  body  has  been  so 
neglectful  of  the  secrets  of  this  convention, 
as  to  drop  in  the  state  house  a  copy  of 
their  proceedings — which,  by  accident,  was 
picked  up  and  delivered  to  me  this  morn- 
ing. I  must  entreat  gentlemen  to  be 
more  careful,  lest  our  transactions  get  into 
the  newspapers,  and  disturb  the  j)ublic 
repose  by  premature  sjieculations.  I  know 
not  whose  paper  it  is,  but  there  it  is 
(throwing  it  down  on  the  table)  ;  let  him 
who  owns  it  take  it." 

But  to  proceed  with  the  historical 
sketch  of  this  most  august  bod}^  of  modern 
legislators. 

They  had  been  appointed  merely  with  a 
view  to  the  revision  or  improvement  of  the 
old  articles  of  confederation,  which  still 
held  them  precariously  together  as  a  na- 
tion ;  yet  they  had  not  deliberated  long, 
when  they  determined  that  the  existing 
comjDact  or  system  of  government  must  be 
swept  away.  The  question,  liowever,  as  to 
what  should  be  substituted  in  its  place,  was 
one  of  extreme  difficulty.  Mr.  Eandolj)h,  of 
Virginia,  opened  the  great  discussion  by  a 
speech  in  which  he  laid  bare  the  defects  of 
the  confederation,  and  then  submitted  a 
series  of  resolutions  embodying  the  sub- 
stance of  a  plan  of  government — the  same, 
in  character,  as  that  contained  in  letters 
written  by  Mr.  Madison  to  Mr.  Jefferson, 
Mr.  Randolph,  and  General  Washington, 
a  few  months  previous. 

The  plan  in  question  proposed  the  form- 
ation of  a  general  government,  consti- 
tuted as  follows  :  The  national  legislature 
to  consist  of  two  branches — the  members 
of  the  first  branch  to  be  elected  b}'  the 
people  of  the  several  states,  aud  the 
members  of  the  second  branch  to  be  elected 
by  the  first  branch,  out  of  a  proper  number 
nominated  by  the  state  legislatures;  the 
national  legislature  to  have  a  negative  on 


136 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


all  the  state  laws  contravening  the  articles 
of  union,  and  to  have  power  to  legislate  in 
all  cases  where  the  states  were  incompe- 
tent ;  the  right  of  suffrage  in  the  legisla- 
ture to  be  i)roportioned  to  the  quota  of 
contribution,  or  to  the  number  of  free  in- 
liabitants;  a  national  executive  to  be 
chosen  by  the  national  legislature ;  a  na- 
tional judiciary,  to  consist  of  one  or  more 
supreme  tribunals  and  inferior  ones,  the 
judges  to  be  chosen  by  the  national  legis- 
lature ;  the  executive,  and  a  convenient 
number  of  the  national  judiciary,  to  com- 


A  good  degree  of  favor  was  shown  to 
Mr.  Randolph's  plan,  but  not  sufficient  to 
prevent  other  projects,  conspicuous  among 
these  being  one  by  Mr.  Patterson,  of  New 
Jersey,  and  another  by  Alexander  Hamil- 
ton, from  being  brought  forward  and  urged 
by  their  respective  friends, — all  of  these 
being  republican  in  their  general  features, 
but  differing  in  their  details. 

For  some  days,  angry  debates  occurred 
which,  but  for  the  timehj  and  healing 
wisdom  of  Dr.  Franklin,  the  Mentor  of 
the  convention,  Avould  have  ended  in  the 
breaking  up  of  the  body.  As  soon 
as  there  was  an  opening  for  him  to 
speak,  the  doctor  rose,  and  in  a  most 


said. 


among 


FllAMiLIN  PLEADING  FOR  PACIFICATION. 

pose  a  council  of  revision  to  examine  every 
act  of  the  national  legislature  before  it 
should  operate,  and  every  act  of  a  particu- 
lar legi.slature  before  a  negative  thereon 
should  be  final;  provision  to  be  made  for 
the  admission  of  new  states  to  the  Union  ; 
a  repulilican  form  of  government  to  be 
administered  in  each  state;  provision  to 
be  made  for  amendments  to  the  articles  of 
union;  the  legislative,  executive,  and  judi- 
ciary powers,  or  officials,  of  the  several 
states,  to  be  bound  by  oath  to  support  the 
articles  of  union. 


impressive    manner, 
other  things : 

''It  is  to  be  feared  that  the  mem- 
bers of  this  convention  are  not  in  a 
temj^er,  at  this  moment,  to  approach 
the  subject  on  which  we  dii^er,  in 
a  candid  spirit.  I  would  therefore 
propose,  Mr.  President,  that,  without 
proceeding  further  in  this  business 
at  this  time,  the  convention  shall 
adjourn  for  three  days,  in  order  to  let 
the  preseiit  ferment  pass  off,  and  to 
afford  time  for  a  more  full,  free,  and 
dispassionate  investigation  of  the 
subject ;  and  I  would  earnestly  rec- 
ommend to  the  members  of  this  con- 
vention, that  they  spend  the  time  of 
this  recess,  not  in  associating  with 
their  own  part}',  and  devising  new 
arguments  to  fortify  themselves  in 
their  old  ojiinions,  but  that  they  mix 
with  members  of  opposite  senti- 
ments, lend  a  patient  ear  to  their  reason- 
ings, and  candidly  allow  them  all  the 
weight  to  which  they  may  be  entitled; 
and  when  we  assemble  again,  I  hope  it  will 
be  Avith  a  determination  to  form  a  consti- 
tution; if  not  such  an  one  as  we  can  indi- 
vidually, and  in  all  respects,  approve,  yet 
the  best  which,  under  existing  circum- 
stances,  can  be  obtained."  (Here  the 
countenance  of  Washington  brightened, 
and  a  cheering  ray  seemed  to  break  in 
upon  the  gloom  of  the  assembly.)  The 
doctor  continued : 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


137 


"Before  I  sit  down,  IMr.  President,  I 
will  suggest  another  matter;  and  I  am 
really  surprised  that  it  has  not  been  pro- 
posed by  some  other  member,  at  an  earlier 
period  of  our  deliberations.  I  will  sug- 
gest, Mr.  President,  the  propriety  of  nom- 
inating and  appointing,  before  we  separate, 
a  chaplain  to  this  convention,  whose  duty 
it  shall  be  uniformly  to  assemble  with  us, 
and  introduce  the  business  of  each  day  by 
imploring  the  assistance  of  Heaven,  and 
its  blessing  upon  our  deliberations." 

The  doctor  sat  down,  and  never  did  a 
countenance  appear  at  once  so  dignified 
and  so  delighted  as  that  of  Washington, 
at  the  close  of  this  address.  The  motion 
for  appointing  a  chaplain  was  instantly 
seconded  and  carried.  The  convention 
also  chose  a  committee,  by  ballot,  consist- 
ing of  one  from  each  state,  to  sit  during  the 
recess,  and  then  adjourned  for  three  days. 

The  three  days  were  spent  in  the 
manner  advised  by  Doctor  Franklin.  On 
re-assembling,  the  chaplain  appeared  and 
led  the  devotions  of  the  assembly,  and  the 
minutes  of  the  last  sitting  were  read.  All 
eyes  were  now  turned  to  the  venerable 
doctor.  He  rose,  and  in  a  few  words 
stated,  that  during  the  recess  he  had  list- 
ened attentively  to  all  the  arguments,  pro 
and  con,  which  had  been  urged  by  both 
sides  of  the  house;  that  he  had  himself 
said  much,  and  thought  moi'e,  on  the  sub- 
ject ;  he  saw  difficulties  and  objections, 
which  might  be  urged  by  individual  states, 
against  every  scheme  which  had  been  pro- 
posed ;  and  he  was  now,  more  than  ever, 
convinced  that  the  constitution  which  they 
were  about  to  form,  in  order  to  be  just  and 
equal,  must  be  formed  on  the  basis  of 
compromise  and  mutual  concession.  With 
such  views  and  feelings,  he  would  now 
move  a  reconsideration  of  the  vote  last 
taken  on  the  organization  of  the  senate. 
The  motion  was  seconded,  the  vote  carried, 
the  former  vote  rescinded,  and  by  a  suc- 
cessive motion  and  resolution,  the  senate 
was  organized  on  the  present  plan. 

On  the  seventeenth  of  September,  the 
final  debate  closed,  the  last  amendment  was 
adopted,  and  the  result  of  the  convention's 


labors  was  the  formation  of  a  constitution 
establishing  a  national  government  on  the 
following  prescribed  princii)les  :  That  the 
affairs  of  the  people  of  the  United  States 
were  thenceforth  to  be  administered,  not 
by  a  confederacy,  or  mere  league  of  friend- 
ship between  the  sovereign  states,  but  by 
a  government,  distributed  into  the  three 
great  departments  —  legislative,  judicial, 
and  executive ;  that  the  powers  of  govern- 
ment should  be  limited  to  concerns  per- 
taining to  the  whole  people,  leaving  the 
internal  administration  of  each  state,  in 
time  of  peace,  to  its  own  constitution  and 
laws,  provided  that  they  should  be  repub- 
lican, and  interfering  with  them  as  little 
as  possible  in  case  of  war;  that  the  legis- 
lative power  of  this  government  should  be 
divided  between  the  two  assemblies,  one 
representing  directly  the  people  of  the 
separate  states,  and  the  other  their  legisla- 
tures ;  that  the  executive  power  of  this 
government  should  be  vested  in  one  person 
chosen  for  four  j-ears,  with  certain  quali- 
fications of  age  and  nativity,  and  invested 
with  a  qualified  negative  upon  the  enact- 
ment of  the  laws;  and  that  the  judicial 
power  should  consist  of  tribunals  inferior 
and  supreme,  to  be  instituted  and  organ- 
ized by  congress,  the  judges  removable 
only  by  impeachment. 

Thus,  finally  amended,  the  constitution 
was  signed  b}'  all  the  members  present, 
except  by  Messrs.  Randolph  and  Mason,  of 
Virginia,  and  Gerry,  of  IVIassachusetts. 
The  scene  is  described  as  one  of  historic 
solemnity,  rising  almost  to  the  sublime. 
When  Washington,  whose  turn  came  first, 
was  about  to  sign  the  instrument  ordained 
to  be  henceforth — if  ratified  hy  the  several 
states — the  palladium  of  his  country's  na- 
tional existence,  and  the  formation  of 
which  he  had  watched  over  with  such 
anxious  solicitude,  he  rose  from  his  seat, 
and  holding  the  pen  in  his  hand,  after  a 
short  pause,  pronounced  these  words  : 

"  Sliould  the  states  reject  this  excellent 
Constitution,  the  prohahilitij  is  that  an  op- 
portunity ivill  never  arjain  be  offered  to 
cancel  another  in  peace — tliC  next  will  be 
drawn  in  blood." 


138 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


And  Avhen,  following  the  exami^le  of 
their  illustrious  leader,  the  other  members 
of  the  convention  appended  their  signa.- 
tures,  Doctor  Franklin,  with  his  eye  tixed 
upon  the  presiding  officer's  seat,  in  the 
rear  of  which  was  the  picture  of  a  halo  or 
sun,  made  the  characteristic  remark: 

"  I  have  often  and  often,  in  the  course 
of  tlie  session,  and  in  tJie  vicissitudes  of 
my  hopes  and  fears  as  to  its  issue,  looked 
at  tliat  sun  behind  the  president,  without 
being  able  to  tell  whether  it  was  rising  or 
sinking;  at  length  I  have  the  hajjpiness 
to  know  it  is  a  rising  and  not  a  setting 
sun." 

The  convention,  however,  which  framed 
the  constitution,  was  not  clothed  with  leg- 
islative power,  nor  was  the  congi'ess  of  the 
confederation  competent  to  accept  it  or 
reject  the  new  form  of  government.  It 
was  referred  by  them  to  the  several  states, 


represented  by  conventions  of  ihe  people; 
and  it  was  provided  in  the  instrument  it- 
self, that  it  should  become  the  supreme 
law  of  the  land,  when  adopted  by  nine 
states.  It  was  not  till  the  summer  of 
1788  that  the  ratification  of  nine  states 
was  obtained,  beginning  with  Delaware, 
some  by  large,  and  some  by  very  small 
majorities.  The  violence  of  the  opposition 
party  was  in  some  sections  very  great,  re- 
sulting, in  New  York,  in  tumultuous  riots. 
Of  the  thirteen  original  states,  Rhode 
Island  was  the  last  to  accept  the  constitu- 
tion, which  she  did  in  May,  1790. 

The  3-ear  of  suspense,  while  the  Ameri- 
can people  were  debating  the  great  question 
whether  to  accept  or  reject  the  constitu- 
tion offered  them  by  Washington  and  his 
associate  compatriots,  was,  on  the  an- 
nouncement of  the  result;  succeeded  by  a 
national  jubilee. 


XI. 

FIRST  ELECTION  AND  INAUGURATION  OF  A  PRESIDENT 

OF  THE  UNITED  STATES.— 1789. 


Washington,  "  First  in  War,  First  in  Peace,  and  First  in  tlie  Hearts  of  his  Countrymen/'  the  Nation's 
Spontaneous,  Unanimous  Choice  — His  Triumphal  Progress  from  Home,  anil  Solemn  Induction  into 
Office — Jubilee  tlirougliout  tiie  Republic,  over  the  August  Event. — Auspicious  Commencement  of 
the  National  Executive  Government  — Meqiiirements  of  the  Constitution  — A  I'lesident  to  be  Chosen. 
— Four  Years  the  Term  of  Service  — All  Eyes  Fixed  Upon  Washington. — His  Reluctance  to  Accept. 
— Reasons  Given  for  this  Course — Urgent  Appeals  to  Him. — The  Result  of  the  Election  —  One 
Voice  and  One  Mind  — He  Bows  to  the  People's  Will — Joy  Produced  by  His  Decision. — Departs  at 
Once  from  Mount  Vernon. — Farewell  Visits  to  His  Mother. —  Inauguration  Appointed  for  .March 
Fourth. — Postponement  to  April  Thirtieth. — Order  of  Ceremonies — New  Spectacle  in  the  Western 
World. — Distinguished  Celebrities  Present — Washington's  Elegant  A|)pearance. — Dignity  when 
Taking  the  Oath. — Reverentially  Kisses  the  Bible. — Curious  Customs  Initiated. 


"  Whore  shall  the  eye  rest,  weary  of  gazing  on  the  great, 
where  find  a  glory  that  is  not  criminal  a  pomp  that  is  not  con- 
tcinptihle?  Yes,  there  is  a  man,  the  first,  the  Inst,  the  best  of 
all,  the  Cincinnatus  <»f  tlie  West,  whom  envy  itself  does  not 
hate.  The  name  of  Washington  is  bequeathed  to  us  to  make 
liurnanity  blush  that  such  a  man  is  alone  in  history  "—LoKD 

liVKO.V. 


CCORDIXG  to  the  terms  of  the  new 
federal    constitution,    whicli    had    now 
been    assented   to  and  ratified  by   the 
wASHixGTox's  INAUGURATION  BIBLE.  requisitc  number  of  states,  a  President 

of  the  United  States  was  required  to  be  elected  for  a  term  of  four  years ;  and,  amidst 
all  the  discordances  of  political  opinion  respecting  the  merits  of  the  constitution  itself, 
there  was  but  one  sentiment  tlirougliout  the  country  as  to  the  man  who  should  admin- 
ister the  affairs  of  the  government.  AU  eyes  were  directed  to  Washington,  and  at  an 
early  period  his  correspondents  endeavored  to  prepare  his  mind  to  gratify  the  expecta- 
tions of  the  people.  Mr.  Johnson,  a  distinguished  patriot  of  Marj'land,  wrote  him, 
"We  can  not  do  without  you."  Indeed,  he  alone  was  believed  to  fill  so  pre-eminent  a 
place  in  the  public  esteem,  that  he  might  be  called  to  the  head  of  the  nation  without 
exciting  envy;  and  he  alone  possessed  in  so  unlimited  a  degree  the  confidence  of  the 
masses,  that,  under  his  auspices,  the  friends  of  tl;e  new  political  system  might  hope  to 
see  it  introduced  with  a  degree  of  firmness  which  would  enable  it  to  resist  the  open 
assaults  and  secret  plots  of  its  many  enemies. 

By  almost  all  who  were  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  Washington,  fears  were  enter- 
tained that  his  earnest  desire  for  private  life  and  the  improvement  of  his  vast  and  long- 
neglected  plantations,  would  prevail  over  the  wishes  of  the  public, — an  acquiescence 
in  which  wishes  was  believed  to  be  absolutely  essential  to  the  completion  of  that  great 
work,  the  Constitution,  on  which  the  grandeur  and  happiness  of  America  was  deemed  to 


140 


OUll  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


depend.  The  struggle,  on  his  part,  be- 
tween inclination  and  dut}',  was  long  and 
severe,  as  is  evident  by  the  letters  which  he 
wrote  on  the  subject,  in  response  to  the  ap- 
peals and  importunities  constantly  made  by 
his  friends.  Colonel  Lee,  then  a  distin- 
guished member  of  congress,  communicat- 
ing^ to  Washin2;ton  tlie  measures  which  that 
body  were  adopting  to  introduce  the  govern- 
ment just  ordained,  thus  alludes  to  the 
presidency :  "  Without  you,  the  govern- 
ment can  have  but  little  chance  of  success  ; 
and  the  people,  of  that  happiness  which 
its  prosperity  must  yield."  So,  also,  Mr. 
Gouverneur  Morris,  a  patriot  who  had  been 
one  of  the  most  valuable  members  of  con- 
gress during  a  great  part  of  the  war,  and 
who  had  performed  a  splendid  part  in  the 
general  convention,  wrote :  "  I  have  ever 
thought,  and  have  ever  said  that  you  must 
be  the  president ;  no  other  man  can  fill 
that  office."  The  great  Hamilton  likewise 
urged  him  to  accept  the  office,  and  thus 
yield  to  the  general  call  of  the  country  in 
relation  to  its  new  and  untried  govern- 
ment. ''  You  will  permit  me  to  say," 
wrote  Hamilton,  "  that  it  is  indispensable 
you  should  lend  yourself  to  its  first  opera- 
tions. It  is  to  little  purpose  to  have  in- 
troduced a  system,  if  the  weightiest  influ- 
ence is  not  given  to  its  firm  establishment 
at  tlie  outset."  Such  arguments  and  en- 
treaties as  these  poured  in  ujjon  "Washing- 
ton from  all  quarters  of  the  broad  land, 
that  he  should  consent  to  assume  the  pres- 
idential chair. 

]5ut  the  election  had  taken  place,  in 
obedience  to  the  fundamental  law;  and  at 
length,  the  votes  for  the  president  and 
vice-president  of  the  United  States  were, 
as  i)rescribed  in  the  constitution,  opened 
and  counted  in  tlie  senate.  The  result 
showed,  that  neither  the  animosity  of  par- 
ties, nor  the  activity  of  the  enemies  of  the 
newly-formed  government,  could  deprive 
General  Wasliington  of  a  single  vote  in 
the  electoral  college.  I'y  the  voluntary 
and  spontaneous  voice  of  a  great  people, 
he  was  called  to  the  chief  magistracy  of 
the  nation.  Tlie  second  number  of  votes 
was  given  to  ]\[r.  John  Adams,  of  IMassa- 


chusetts.  George  Washington  and  John 
Adams  were  therefore  declared  to  be  duly 
elected  president  and  vice-president  of  the 
United  States,  to  serve  for  four  3'ears  from 
the  fourth  of  March,  1789. 

At  Mount  Vernon,  on  the  fourteenth  of 
April,  1789,  the  appointment  of  General 
Washington  as  supreme  executive  of  the 
republic  was  officially  announced  to  him. 
This  commission  was  performed  by  j\Ir. 
Charles  Thomson,  secretary  of  the  late 
congress,  who  presented  to  him  a  certifi- 
cate signed  by  John  Langdon,  president 
X>ro  tempore  of  the  senate,  stating  that  he 
was  unanimouslj'  elected. 

Accustomed  to  resj^ect  the  wishes  of  his 
fellow-citizens,  Washington  did  not  think 
himself  at  liberty  to  decline  an  office  con- 
ferred upon  him  by  the  unsought  suffrage 
of  an  eutire  people.  His  acceptance  of  it, 
and  the  expressions  of  gratitude  he  in- 
dulged in  for  this  fresh  proof  of  the  esteem 
and  confidence  of  his  country,  were  min- 
gled with  declarations  of  extreme  diffidence 
in  himself.  '•  I  wish,"  lie  said,  "  that  there 
may  not  be  reason  for  regretting  the 
choice,  for,  indeed,  all  I  can  promise  is, 
to  accomplish  that  which  can  be  done  by 
an  honest  zeal."  In  this  spirit  of  devoted 
self-sacrifice,  and  realizing  that  the  ur- 
gency of  public  affairs  must  require  the 
immediate  attendance  of  the  president  at 
the  seat  of  government,  he  liastened  his 
departure ;  on  the  sixteenth  of  April, 
therefore, — the  second  day  after  receiving 
the  certificate  of  his  election, — he  bade 
adieu  to  Mount  Vernon,  to  private  life, 
and  to  domestic  felicity,  and,  in  company 
with  Mr.  Thomson  and  Colonel  Hum- 
phreys, proceeded  to  New  York,  where 
congress  was  then  in  session,  to  assume 
the  administration  of  the  new  government. 
])Ut,  notwithstanding  the  weight  of  anxi- 
ety upon  his  mind  concerning  the  public 
business,  he  did  not  omit  to  pa}^  a  parting 
visit  to  his  venerable  mother.  Embracing 
his  mother,  Washington  bowed  liis  head 
upon  her  shoulder  and  wept,  murmuring 
at  the  same  time  something  of  a  hope  that 
they  should  meet  again.  "No,  George," 
she  replied,  "  this  is  our  last  parting ;   my 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


141 


daj^s  to  come  are  few.  But  go,  fulfill  your 
high  duties,  and  may  God  bless  and  keep 
you."      She    was    then    afflicted    with    a 


town,  where  the  whole  population  turned 
out  to  do  him  honor.  And  thus  it  was, 
that,  notwitlistanding  Washington  wished 


cancer,  of  which  she  died  in  her  eighty- 
second  year. 

Leaving    Alexandria,  he  was  accompa- 
nied by  a  throng  of  citizens  to   George- 


to  make  a  private  journey,  his  desire  could 
not  be  gratified.  The  public  feelings  were 
too  strong  to  be  suppressed.  Crowds 
flocked  around  him  enthusiastically  wher- 


142 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ever  he  stopped ;  and  corps  of  militia,  and 
processions  of  citizens,  attended  him 
through  their  respective  states.  At  Phil- 
adelpliia,  lie  was  received  hy  a  concourse 
of  tlie  most  distinguished  personages  of 
the  city  and  state,  and  followed  hy  thou- 
sands of  people  to  a  grand  banquet,  jii-e- 
pared  for  the  occasion,  where  addresses 
and  sentiments  were  interchanged,  while 
the  air  was  filled  with  the  shouts  of  popu- 
lar exultation,  and  Avith  one  universal 
acclaim,  invoking  hlessings  upon  him.  As 
he  crossed  the  Schuylkill,  a  civic  crown  of 
laurel  was,  unperceived  by  him,  let  down 
upon  his  head  by  a  youth  who  was  con- 
cealed in  the  arch  of  evergreen  which  dec- 
orated the  bridge.  At  night,  the  Avhole 
town  was  brilliantly  illuminated,  and  all 
classes  and  ages  spontaneously  united  in 
the  happy  festivities. 

The  next  day,  at  Trenton,  he  was  wel- 
comed in  a  manner  exceedingly  novel  and 
touching.  In  addition  to  the  usual  dem- 
onstrations of  respect  and  attachment, 
which  were  given  by  the  discharge  of 
cannon,  by  military  corps,  and  by  private 
persons  of  distinction,  the  gentler  sex  pre- 
pared, in  their  own  taste,  a  most  unique 
tribute  of  their  regard,  indicative  of  the 
grateful  recollection  in  which  they  held 
their  deliverance  twelve  years  before  from 
an  insulting  enemy.  On  the  bridge  ex- 
tending across  the  stream  which  passes 
through  the  town, — the  place  where  Wash- 
ington, atone  time,  made  so  gallant  a  sur- 
prise on  the  enemy  of  his  country,  and  at 
another,  so  important  a  stand,  and  a  re- 
treat worth  more  than  a  victory, — a  tri- 
umphal arch  was  erected,  with  evergreen 
and  floral  adornments,  and  supported  by 
thirteen  pillars  similarly  en  wreathed.  On 
the  front  was  inscribed,  in  large  golden 
letters:  'The  Dkfkn-deu  of  the  Moth- 

EIIS     WIM.     I5E     TFIE     l^ROTRCTOIl     OF    THE 

Dauohteus.'  Over  this,  in  the  center  of 
the  arch,  above  the  inscription,  was  a 
dome  or  cupola  of  evergreens  and  flowers 
eiM-iivliiig  tlir  (l;,f,..s  of  two  nKMuonibl,. 
events,  one  <>i  tlicse  being  tlie  bold  and 
judicious  stand  made  by  the  American 
troops,  by  which  the  progress  of  the  Brit- 


ish army  was  arrested  on  the  evening  pre- 
ceding the  battle  of  Princeton ;  the  other 
AA'as  the  date  of  Washington's  glorious 
A'ictory  at  Trenton,  Avhen  nine  hundred 
Hessians  were  made  prisoners,  and  the 
horizon  of  American  affairs  was  illumined 
by  a  radiance  which  never  again  Avholly 
forsook  it.  On  the  summit  of  the  arch  a 
large  sun-flower,  as  always  pointing  to  the 
sun,  Avas  designed  to  express  this  motto, — 
'To  You  Aloxe.'  The  ladies  had  ar- 
ranged themselves  on  the  side  of  the 
street,  betAveen  the  arch  and  the  town, 
Avith  their  daughters  in  front,  to  a  Aery 
considerable  number,  all  dressed  in  Avhite, 
and  decorated  A\ath  floral  Avreaths  and 
chaplets.  Six  of  these  held  baskets  of 
flowers  in  their  hands,  and,  as  soon  as  the 
general  had  passed  under  the  arch,  the 
beautiful  choristers  adA'anced,  singing  a 
sonnet  composed  for  the  occasion ;  as  the}^ 
sung  the  last  lines  they  strcAved  the  flowers 
before  the  general. 

At  BrunsAvick,  he  was  joined  by  Goa*- 
ernor  William  Livingston,  of  Ncav  Jersey, 
Avho  accompanied  him  to  ElizabethtoAvn 
Point.  On  the  road,  the  committee  of 
congress  received  and  attended  him  Avith 
much  military  parade  to  the  point  Avhere 
he  was  to  embark  for  Ncav  York.  The 
embarkation  took  place  in  a  magnificently- 
decorated  barge,  manned  and  rowed  by 
thirteen  branch  pilots,  attired  in  Avhite. 
There  Avere  also  other  barges,  filled  Avith 
eminent  dignitaries  from  all  j^arts  of  the 
land. 

Arriving  at  Ncav  York,  the  president 
A\^s  received  by  the  governor  of  the  state, 
and  by  an  immense  concourse  of  citizens, 
headed  by  the  military.  IMultitudes  of  his 
old  and  faithful  officers  and  felloAv-patriots 
pressed  around  him  to  offer  their  congrat- 
ulations, and  to  express  the  joy  Avhich 
glowed  in  their  l)osoms  at  seeing  the  man 
in  Avhom  all  confided,  at  the  head  of  the 
nation's  affairs. 

Thus  it  appears  that  the  president's  first 
arrival  at  the  seat  of  gOA'ernment  Avas  a 
national  ovation  Avhich  shoAved,  by  its 
spontaneousness,  enthusiasm,  and  unanim- 
ity, that  all  hearts  and  voices  Avere  united 


GREAT  AND  ^[EMORAP.LE  EVENTS. 


143 


in  liis  favor.  It  was  an  occasion  wliich 
excited  the  groat  heart  of  tlie  peopU'  l>e- 
yoiul  all  jxiwia-s  of  descrijition  ;  the  hand 
of  industry  was  suspended,  and  the  xarimis 
pleasures  of  the  capital  were  centered  in  a 
single  and  universal  enjoyment.  ]\Iany 
aged  patriots  were  heard  to  say  that  they 
should  now  die  contented,  having  had  a 
siglit  of  the  Father  of  his  Country. 


PRESIDENTIAL  MANSION,  1789. 

The  fourth  of  March  was  the  day  wliicli 
had  been  a^ipointed  for  the  new  national 
government  to  commence  operations,  but 
so  many  impediments  occurred  that  it  was 
not  lentil  the  thirtieth  of  April  that  this 
took  place. 

Vice-president  Adams  arrived  in  New 
York,  escorted  by  a  troop  of  horse,  on  the 
twenty-first  of  April,  and,  two  days  before 
Washington's  arrival,  took  his  seat  as  the 
constitutional  presiding  officer  of  the 
senate.  On  doing  this,  he  addressed  that 
body  in  a  dignified  speech  adapted  to  the 
occasion,  and  warmly  eulogistic  of  the 
new-born  republic  and  its  illustrious  chief 
magistrate. 

On  Thursday,  the  thirtieth  of  April, 
1789,  the  ceremony  of  Inaugurating  the 
First  President  of  the  United  States  took 
place  in  New  York,  which  at  that  time 
was  the  fedei'al  capital.  Long  before  the 
hour  arrived,  the  town  swarmed  with 
people ;  every  tavern  and  boarding-house 
was  full,  and  private  residences  teemed 
with  guests  and  lodgers.  Many  persons 
are  said  to  have  slept  in  tents  on  '  the 
Common.'  The  Hudson  was  studded  with 
boats  bearing  visitors,  and  long  caravans 
of  carts  began  to  arrive  before  daybreak, 
from  Westchester,  Long  Island,  and  the 
Jerseys.      The  ceremony  of  the  day  was 


ushered  in  by  a  salute  fired  from  the  bat- 
tery. This  was  about  six  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and,  even  at  this  early  hour,  the 
streets  were  fast  filling  up.  At  nine,  the 
ehui-cli  hells  rang  out  a  ineriy  peal  ;  at  ten 
they  summoned  the  worshipers  to  church, 
each  pastor  devoting  the  occasion  to  im- 
[)l(n'ing  Heaven's  blessing  upon  the  nation 
and  the  first  president.  General  Wash- 
ington had  now  been  in  the  city  a  week, 
having  arrived  on  the  twenty-third.  He 
was  living  in  a  private  house,  the  prop- 
erty of  Mr.  Osgood,  on  the  corner  of 
Cherry  street  and  Franklin  square;  but 
his  household  arrangements  had  not  j'et 
been  [)erfected,  as  Mrs.  Washington  did 
not  arrive  for  some  litile  time,  remaining 
at  Mount  Vernon  until  affairs  were  in  a 
state  of  readiness  for  her  presence  at  the 
new  presidential  mansion. 

At  eight  oclock,  on  this  memorable 
morning,  the  sky  was  overcast,  and  the 
appearance  was  that  of  a  gathering  storm. 
Everybody  noticed,  however,  that  the  mo- 
ment the  bells  began  to  ring  the  sky 
cleared,  and  by  the  close  ot  divine  service 
the  weather  was  serene  and  beautiful.  At 
noon,  the  procession  that  was  to  conduct 
the  president  to  Federal  hall  assembled 
in  due  style  opposite  his  residence  in 
Cherry  street.  There  were  the  usual  mil- 
itary companies — a  trooj)  of  horse,  one  or 
two  companies  of  grenadiers,  a  company  of 
Higlilanders,  in  kilts, — all  the  chief  mu- 
nicipal officers,  the  congressional  commit- 


i'iu:siui:xri.vL  mansion,  1876. 

tees,  and  the  new  cabinet, — multitudes  of 
distinguished  citizens  bringing  up  the 
rear.  By  this  assemblage  the  new  presi- 
dent was  escorted  to  Federal  hall,  which 
stood  at  the  head  of  Broad  street,  in  Wall, 


144 


OUR  FIllST  CENTURY.— 177G-1S76. 


where  the  custom-house  was  subsequently 
built.  The  old  building  had  been  jiut  in 
repair  at  a  considerable  expense,  but  it 
was  still  so  rickety  that  cautious  persons 
looked  forward  to  the  ceremony  with  un- 
easiness. The  procession  having  arrived, 
and  the  hall  occupied  according  to  the  pro- 
graming, nothing  remained  but  to  proceed 
with  the  solemn  formalities ;  and,  when  it 
is  remembered  that  there  was  no  precedent 
in  history  for  the  inauguration  of  a  repub- 
lican president,  one  can  not  but  admire  the 
striking  dignity  which  characterized  the 
wlinle  occasion.  At  the  door  of  the  senate 
chamber,  to  which  the  eyes  of  the  whole 
vast  multitude  were  intensely  directed,  the 
vice-president  met  General  Washington, 
and  with  consummate  but  unaffected  ease 
and  grace  of  manner  said — 

''  Sir,  the  senate  and  house  of  represent- 
atives of  the  United  States  are  ready  to 
attend,  ijoii  to  take  the  oath  required  hy 
the  Constitution,  xch'ich  iclll  be  adminis- 
tered to  you  hy  the  chancellor  of  the  state 
of  l^eiu  Yorlcy 

^^  I  am  ready  to  proceed,''^  was  Washing- 
ton's reply,  made  with  his  accustomed 
elegant  dignity. 

The  vice-president  now  led  the  way  to 
the  outside  giillery ;  the  president  fol- 
lowed, with  as  nv.iny  of  the  high  function- 
aries as  could  iinil  room,  and  all  were  pres- 
ently gathered  on  the  balcony  fronting  on 
Wall  street.  Of  the  group,  perhaps  the 
most  striking  person  was  Chancellor  Liv- 
ingston, in  a  full  suit  of  black,  and,  like 
Washington,  one  of  the  finest-looking  men 
anywhere  to  be  seen.  Secretary  Otis  car- 
ried the  Bible  on  a  crimson  cushion,  and 
near  him  were  Generals  Knox  and  St. 
Clair,  Roger  Sherman,  Hamilton,  and 
other  noted  persons  of  revolutionary  fame. 
At  the  projter  moment,  the  chancellor  ad- 
ministered the  oath,  with  great  delibera- 
tion and  eiiii)hasis,  to  Washington,  who, 
bowing  down,  seized  tlie  book,  kissed  it, 
and  exclaimed,  with  closed  eyes  and  much 
emotion — 

^^  I  swear,  so  help  me  God  '.'''' 

"  It  is  dojif',^^  the  chancellor  declared^ 
and,    turning    to    the    crowd    exclaimed, 


'•'  Lony  lire  G  orrje  Washington,  President 
0  *'  t'.e  United  States/'^ 

This  last-named  declaration,  on  the  part 
of  the  chancellor,  was  in  imitation  of  mo- 
narchical custom.  The  error  of  this  prac- 
tice was,  however,  soon  exposed  and 
abandoned;  but  at  this  time,  the  crowd 
thought  of  nothing  but  the  exciting  solem- 
nity of  the  scene,  and  many  who  demon- 
stratively waved  their  hats  were  too 
overcome  by  emotion  to  join  in  the  huzzas. 

Of  course,  Washington  was  the  observed 
of  all  observers  in  that  mighty  crowd,  and 
his  grandly-commanding  figure  made  this 
both  natural  and  easy,  and  so  too  did  the 
construction  of  the  balcony,  conspicuously 
fronting  the  edifice,  where  the  remarkable 
ceremony  was  performed.  He  was  dressed 
in  a  complete  suit  of  dark  brown  broad- 
cloth, of  American  production,  white  silk 
long  stockings,  silver  shoe-bucldes  upon 
his  polished  shoes,  a  steel-hilted  dress 
sword,  and  his  hair  dressed  and  powdered 
according  to  the  style  then  in  vogue,  and 
gathered  up  in  a  bag.  This  attire,  it  may 
be  remarked,  was  Washington's  personal 
choice.  On  the  occasion  of  his  second  in- 
auguration, however,  Washington  was 
dressed  precisely  as  Stuart  has  painted 
him  in  Lord  Lansdowne's  full-length  por- 
trait— in  a  full  suit  of  the  richest  black 
velvet,  with  diamond  knee-buckles,  and 
square  silver  buckles  set  upon  shoes  ja- 
panned with  the  most  scrupulous  neatness, 
black  silk  stockings,  his  shirt  ruffled  at  the 
breast  and  wrists,  a  light  dress-sword;  his 
hair  profusely  powdered,  fully  dressed,  so 
as  to  project  at  the  sides,  and  gathered  be- 
hind in  a  silk  bag,  ornamented  with  a 
large  rose  of  black  ribbon.  He  held  his 
cocked  hat,  which  had  a  large  black  cock- 
ade on  one  side  of  it,  in  his  hand,  while 
standing,  but  laid  it  on  the  table  when  he 
sat  down. 

Washington,  on  taking  the  oath,  as  ad- 
ministered by  Chancellor  Livingston,  is 
said  to  have  laid  his  hand  upon  that  page 
of  the  Bible  containing  the  fiftieth  chapter 
of  Genesis,  opposite  to  which  were  two 
illustrations  of  the  text,  one  being  a  pic- 
ture of  '  The  Blessing  of  Zebulon,'  and  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


145 


other  of  '  The  Prophecy  of  Issachar.'  That 
memorable  volume,  of  such  peculiar  his- 
torical associations,  now  belongs  to  one  of 
the  masonic  lodges  in  New  York.  Upon 
each  of  the  two  outside  surfaces  of  the  vol- 
ume, there  is  engraved  in  golden  letters  a 
commemorative  record  of  the  interesting 
circumstances  attaching  to  it ;  and  on  the 
inside,  beautifully  written  upon  parch- 
ment, in  ornamental  style,  surmounted  by 
an  engraved  portrait  of  Washington,  is 
the  following  statement : 

'  On  this  Sacred  Volume,  on  the  30th  day 
of  April,  1789,  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
was  administered  to  George  Washington 
the  first  President  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  the  oath  to  support  the  Constitu- 
tion of  the  United  States.  This  imjiortant 
ceremony  was  performed  by  the  Most 
Worshipful  Grand  Master  of  Free  and 
Accepted  Masons  of  the  state  of  New 
York,  the  Honorable  Robert  R.  Livings- 
ton, Chancellor  of  the  state.' 

The  inaugural  address  delivered  by 
Washington,  and  which,  like  all  the  early 
inaugurals,  possessed  the  merit  of  brevity, 
was  pronounced  in  the  senate  chamber.  It 
was  considered,  in  those  days,  a  speech  to 
congress  and  not  to  the  people ;  and  both 
houses  felt  it  incumbent  on  them — follow- 
ing the  usage  of  monarchies, — to  jjresent 
replies  to  the  president,  at  his  residence. 

Prom  the  senate  chamber,  the  president 
was  escorted  to  St.  Paul's  church,  where 
he  heard  an  appropriate  religious  service, 
conducted  by  Dr.  Prevost;  and  thence 
home  to  his  house.  In  the  evening  the 
whole  city  was  one  blaze  of  illumination, 
all  classes  participating  in  this  attractive 


feature  of  the  general  jubilee.  Many  of 
the  illuminations  were  very  beautiful — 
none  more  so  than  those  of  the  French  and 
Spanish  ministers,  who  both  lived  in 
Broadway,  near  the  Bowling  Green  ;  and 
the  whole  scene  was  unique,  animated,  and 
enchanting.  General  Washington  him- 
self went  '  down  town,'  that  is  to  say, 
toward  the  Battery,  to  see  the  spectacle,  of 
which  he  expressed  the  warmest  admira- 
tion ;  returning  about  ten  o'clock  on  foot, 
the  crowd  being  too  dense  for  a  carriage 
to  pass. 

As  the  sujireme  head  of  the  nation. 
President  Washington  at  once  endeavored 
to  acquaint  himself  fully  with  the  state  of 
public  affairs,  and  for  this  purpose,  he 
called  upon  those  who  had  been  the  heads 
of  departments  under  the  confederation,  to 
report  to  him  the  situation  of  their  respec- 
tive concerns.  He  also,  having  consulted 
with  his  friends,  adopted  a  system  for  the 
order  of  his  own  household,  for  the  regu- 
lation of  his  hours  of  business,  and  of  in- 
tercourse with  those  who,  in  a  formal 
manner,  visited  him  as  the  chief  magis- 
trate of  the  nation.  But  he  publicly  an- 
nounced that  neither  visits  of  business  nor 
of  ceremony  would  be  expected  on  Sunday, 
as  he  wished  to  reserve  that  day  sacredly 
to  himself.  One  of  the  most  important 
and  delicate  of  the  president's  duties  was 
to  fill  those  dejDartments  which  congress  at 
an  early  day  had  established  to  aid  the 
executive  in  the  administration  of  the 
government.  His  judgment  and  prudence 
were  consistently  exhibited  in  this  resj^ect, 
by  his  selecting  such  able  men  for  his 
cabinet. 


10 


XII. 

GREATEST  DEFEAT  AND  YICTORY  OF  AMERIOAlSr  ARMS 

IN  THE  INDIAN  WARS.— 1791. 


Headlong  Flight  and  Destruction  of  St.  Clair's  Army,  in  1791,  Before  the  Trained  "Warriors  of  "Lit- 
tle Turtle." — This  Mortifying  Disaster  Retrieved  by  Wayne's  Overwhelming  Triumph  in  1794. — Final 
and  Crushing  Blow  Dealt  by  Jackson,  in  1814. — The  Question  of  Power  Between  the  Two  Races  For- 
ever settled  in  Favor  of  the  Whites. — Old  Feuds  Between  the  Races. — Ilarmer's  Expedition  to  the 
North-west. — Powerless  in  Ambush  Warfare. — Repeated  and  Bloody  Reverses. — St.  Clair  put  in  Com- 
mand.— Warning  Words  of  Washington. — Sudden  Attack  by  the  Miamis. — Terrible  Slaughter  of  the 
■yiVhites. — Overthrow  of  the  Whole  Campaign. — Washington's  Reception  of  the  News. — Ilis  Appall- 
ing Wrath. — Sketch  of  St.  Clair's  Conqueror. — His  Fame  at  Home  and  Abroad. — General  Wayne 
Sent  to  the  Field. — Unsuccessfully  Proffers  Peace. — Instantly  Prepares  for  Battle. — Great  Army  of 
Indian  Warriors  — Their  Sagacious  Choice  of  Position. — Desperate  Fury  of  the  Conflict. — Wayne's 
Prowess  Irresistible. — Death  Knell  of  the  Savages. — Their  Confederacy  Shattered. 


"  Nothin;;  but  lamentable  sounds  was  heard, 
NoraUi;ht  was  «een  but  ^rhastly  views  of  death, 
Infeeiious  horror  ran  from  tace  to  face, 
And  pale  despair." 


LL  historians  agree  in  declaring  that  the 
defeat  of  General  St.  Clair,  in  1791,  by 
the  Indians  of  the  north-west  territory, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


147 


was  the  most  signal  and  disastrous  ever 
sustained  by  the  American  army,  in  its 
battles  with  the  warriors  of  the  forest. 

On  tlie  otlier  hand,  this  defeat — the 
news  of  which  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  upon 
the  then  struggling  and  distracted  govern- 
ment,— was  retrieved  by  a  most  complete 
and  decisive  victory,  under  General 
Wayne,  over  these  same  tribes,  collected 
together  in  a  vast  and  powerful  horde,  at 
the  rapids  of  the  Maumee,  in  1794 ;  a  vic- 
tory which,  taken  in  connection  with  the 
subsequent  overwhelming  triumph  of  Gen- 
eral Jackson,  in  his  campaign  against  the 
Creeks,  gave  the  finishing  stroke  to  the 
power  of  the  Indian  race  in  North  Amer- 
ica,—  settling  forever  the  long  struggle 
that  had  been  carried  on  between  the  white 
man  and  the  red  man,  in  favor  of  the 
former,  though  the  warlike  propensities  of 
the  savages  occasionally  broke  out  in  sub- 
sequent years,  as  in  1811,  under  Tecum- 
seh ;  the  Creek  war,  of  1814,  under 
Weatherford  ;  the  terrible  Seminole  cam- 
paign ;  the  Cherokee  contest ;  the  hostili- 
ties of  the  Sacs,  Foxes,  and  Winnebagoes, 
under  Black  Hawk ;  the  renowned  Flor- 
ida war,  of  1835,  under  Micanopy  and  Os- 
ceola; etc.  These  later  wars  tasked,  to 
the  utmost,  the  military  skill  of  such 
trained  soldiers  as  Jackson,  Harrison, 
Worth,  Harney,  Jessup,  Clinch,  Thomp- 
son, Dade,  Atkinson,  Gaines,  Taylor.  Red 
Jacket,  and  Cornplanter,  were  prominent 
chieftains  in  the  wars  of  the  Senecas. 

In  the  month  of  September,  1790,  Gen- 
eral Harmer  was  intrusted  with  the  import- 
ant duty  of  looking  after  the  fierce  tribes 
i.n  the  Miami  and  Wabash,  between  whom 
and  the  Kentuckians  there  had  long  waged 
a  relentless  Avar.  The  general  went  for- 
ward with  a  body  of  three  hundred  and 
twenty  regulars,  who,  being  re-enforced  by 
the  militia  of  Pennsylvania  and  Kentucky, 
formed  a  corps  of  one  thousand  four  hun- 
dred and  fifty-three  men.  The  Indians, 
on  his  approach,  set  fire  to  their  villages  ; 
but  this  was  nothing,  unless  they  could  be 
brought  to  an  engagement.  Harmer, 
however,  instead  of  advancing  himself, 
with  the  main  body,  sent  forward  Colonel 


Hardin,  with  two  hundred  and  ten  men, 
of  whom  only  thirty  were  regulars.  They 
were  attacked  ;  the  militia  fled  ;  the  others 
were  nearly  cut  off.  The  general  then 
sent  forward  Hardin,  with  three  hundred 
men,  who  speedily  encountered  another 
large  body.  After  a  brave  contest,  in 
which  this  party  lost  nearly  half  their 
number,  they  retreated  on  the  main  body. 
Thus  disaster  followed  disaster,  and  the 
nation  became  sore  and  mortified  under 
such  repeated  humiliations. 

One  of  the  last  measures,  therefore, 
adopted  by  the  United  States  congress, 
the  ensuing  year,  1791,  was  to  augment 
the  national  military  force,  to  a  suitable 
degree  of  power,  and  to  place  in  the  hands 
of  President  Washington  more  ample 
means  for  the  protection  of  the  frontier,  as 
the  Indians  on  the  north-west  side  of  the 
Ohio  still  continued  their  hostilities.  A 
new  expedition  against  the  belligerent 
tribes  had,  in  consequence,  been  projected ; 
and  General  St.  Clair,  then  governor  of 
the  territory  west  of  the  Ohio,  was  ap- 
pointed commander  of  the  forces  to  be  em- 
ployed. Washington  had  been  deeply 
chagrined  by  the  mortifying  disasters  of 
General  Harmer's  expedition  to  the  Wa- 
bash, resulting  from  Indian  ambushes. 
In  taking  leave,  therefore,  of  his  old  mili- 
tary comrade,  St.  Clair,  he  wished  him 
success  and  honor,  and  added  this  solemn 
warning  : 

"  You  have  your  instructions  from  the 
secretary  of  Avar.  I  had  a  strict  eye  to 
them,  and  will  add  but  one  word, — Be- 
ware of  a  surprise !  You  know  how  the 
Indians  fight.  I  repeat  it — Beware  of  a 
surprise  !  " 

With  these  warning  words  sounding  in 
his  ear,  fresh  with  Washington's  awful 
emphasis,  St.  Clair  departed. 

On  the  fourth  of  November,  while  the 
main  body  of  St.  Clair's  army  were  en- 
camped in  two  lines  on  rising  ground, 
some  fifteen  miles  south  of  the  Miami  vil- 
lages on  one  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Wa- 
bash, and  the  militia  upon  a  high  flat  on 
the  other  side  of  the  stream,  they  were 
surprised  and  terribly  attacked  by  an  In- 


148 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


dian  force  which  lay  concealed,  in  the 
woods.  General  St.  Clair,  who  was  suffer- 
ing severely  from  gout,  was  unable  to 
mount  his  horse,  and  had  to  be  carried 
about  in  a  litter,  from  -vhich  he  gave  his 
orders  with  discretion  and  the  most  perfect 
coolness.  The  battle  raged  fearfully  for 
nearly  three  hours,  and  after  nearly  half 
of  his  army  had  been  slaughtered,  St.  Clair 
beat  a  headlong  retreat.  Thus  were  all 
the  plans,  hopes  and  labors  of  President 
Washington,  congress,  and  the  cabinet,  in 
reference  to  the  Indian  campaign,  utterly 
and  deplorably  overthrown  in  a  single 
day  !  This  result  is  stated  to  have  arisen 
thus  :  On  the  third  of  November,  St.  Clair 
formed  his  force  into  two  lines ;  the  first, 
under  the  command  of  General  Butler, 
composed  the  right  wing,  and  lay  with  a 
creek  immediately  in  their  front.  The 
left  wing,  commanded  by  Colonel  Darke, 
formed  the  second,  and  lay  with  an  inter- 
val of  about  seventy  yards  between  them 
and  the  first  line.  The  militia  were  ad- 
vanced beyond  the  creek,  about  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  in  front.  About  half  an  hour 
before  sunrise  the  next  morning,  just  after 
the  troops  had  been  dismissed  from  the 
parade,  an  unexpected  attack  was  made 
ujjon  the  militia,  who  fled  in  the  utmost 
confusion,  and  rushing  into  camp  through 
the  first  line  of  regular  troops,  which  had 


been  formed  the  instant  the  first  gun  was 
discharged,  threw  them  too  into  disorder. 
Such  was  the  panic,  and  so  rapid  and  irreg- 
ular the  flight,  that  the  exertions  of  the 
officers  to  recall  the  men  to  their  senses 
and  to  duty  Avere  quite  unavailing. 

It  was  soon  perceived  that  the  American 
fire  could  produce,  on  a  concealed  enemy, 
no  considerable  effect,  and  that  the  only 
hoi^e  of  victory  was  in  the  bayonet.  At 
the  head  of  the  second  regiment,  which 
formed  the  left  of  the  left  wing,  Darke 
made  an  impetuous  charge  upon  the 
enemy,  forced  them  from  their  ground 
with  some  loss,  and  drove  them  about  four 
hundred  yards.  He  was  followed  by  that 
whole  wing ;  but  the  want  of  a  sufficient 
number  of  riflemen  to  press  this  advan- 
tage, deprived  him  of  its  benefit,  and,  as 
soon  as  he  gave  over  the  pursuit,  the  In- 
dians renewed  the  attack.  In  the  mean- 
time.     General      Butler      was      mortally 


WAYNE  S  DEFEAT  OF  THE  INDLANS. 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


149 


wounded,  the  left  of  tlie  right  wing  was 
broken,  the  artillerists  almost  to  a  man 
killed,  the  guns  seized,  and  the  camp  pen- 
etrated by  the  enemy.  Orders  were  given 
to  again  charge  with  the  bayonet;  this 
was  done  with  spirit  and  momentary  suc- 
cess, the  Indians  being  driven  out  of  the 
camp,  and  the  artillery  recovered. 

To  save  the  remnant  of  the  army  was 
all  that  now  remained  to  be  done ;  and, 
about  half-past  nine  in  the  morning.  Gen- 
eral St.  Clair  ordered  Colonel  Darke,  with 
the  second  regiment,  to  charge  a  body  of 
Indians  who  intercepted  their  retreat,  and 
to  gain  the  road.  Major  Clarke,  with  his 
battalion,  was  directed  to  cover  the  rear. 
These  orders  were  executed,  and  then  a 
disorderly  flight  commenced.  The  pursuit 
was  kept  up  about  four  miles,  when,  fortu- 
nately for  the  surviving  Americans,  the 
victorious  savages,  eager  for  plunder, 
stopped  at  the  camp  of  their  vanquished 
foes,  to  divide  the  spoils.  The  routed 
troops  continued  their  flight  to  Fort  Jef- 
ferson —  some  thirty  miles,  —  throwing 
away  their  arms  along  the  road.  At  this 
place  they  met  the  detached  regiment,  and 
leaving  their  wounded  at  Fort  Jefferson, 
the  army  continued  its  retreat  to  Fort 
Washington,  the  site  of  the  present  city 
of  Cincinnati. 

Poor  St.  Clair's  defeat  has  been  aptly 
paralleled  with  that  of  Braddock.  No 
doubt,  when  he  realized  the  terrible  havoc 
that  had  been  made,  he  thought  sadly  of 
Washington's  parting  words,  "  Beware  of 
a  surprise  !  "  The  manner  in  which  the 
news  of  this  disaster  affected  Washington 
is  thus  described  by  Mr.  Rush  : — 

Towards  the  close  of  a  winter's  da}',  in 
December,  an  officer  in  uniform  was  seen 
to  dismount  in  front  of  the  president's 
house  in  Philadelphia,  and,  giving  the 
bridle  to  his  servant,  knock  at  the  door  of 
the  mansion.  Learning  from  the  porter 
that  the  president  was  at  dinner,  he  said 
he  was  on  public  business,  having  dis- 
patches which  he  could  deliver  only  to  the 
commander-in-chief.  A  servant  was  sent 
into  the  dining-room  to  give  the  informa- 
tion to  Mr.   Lear,  the  president's   private 


secretary,  who  left  the  table  and  went  into 
the  hall,  where  the  officer  repeated  what 
he  had  said.  Mr.  Lear  replied  that,  as 
the  president's  secretary,  he  would  take 
charge  of  the  dispatches  and  deliver  them 
at  the  proper  time.  The  officer  made 
answer  that  he  had  just  arrived  from  the 
western  army,  and  his  orders  were  explicit 
to  deliver  them  with  all  promptitude,  and 
to  the  president  in  person  ;  but  that  he 
would  wait  his  directions.  Mr.  Lear  re- 
turned, and  in  a  whisper  imparted  to  the 
president  what  had  passed.  General 
Washington  rose  from  the  table  and  went 
to  the  officer.  He  was  back  in  a  short 
time,  made  a  word  of  apology  for  his  ab- 
sence, but  no  allusion  to  the  cause  of  it. 
He  had  company  that  day.  Everything 
went  on  as  usual.  Dinner  over,  the  gen- 
tlemen passed  to  the  drawing-room  of  Mrs. 
Washington,  which  was  open  in  the  even- 
ing. The  general  spoke  courteously  to 
every  lady  in  the  room,  as  was  his  custom. 
His  hours  were  earh',  and  by  ten  o'clock 
all  the  company  had  gone.  Soon  Mrs. 
Washington  left  the  room,  and  the  general 
and  Mr.  Lear  remained.  The  chief  now 
paced  the  room  in  hurried  strides,  and 
without  speaking,  for  several  minutes. 
Then  he  sat  down  on  a  sofa  by  the  fire, 
telling  Mr.  Lear  to  sit  down.  He  rose 
again,  and,  as  he  walked  backward  and 
forward,  Mr.  Lear  saw  a  storm  gathering. 
In  the  agony  of  his  emotion,  he  struck  his 
clenched  hands  with  fearful  force  against 
his  forehead,  and  in  a  paroxj'sm  of  anguish 
exclaimed — 

"It's  all  over!  St.  Clair's  defeated— 
routed ;  the  officers  nearly  all  killed — the 
men  by  wholesale — that  brave  army  cut  to 
pieces — the  rout  complete !  too  shocking  to 
think  of — and  a  surprise  in  the  bargain  !  " 

He  uttered  all  this  with  great  vehe- 
mence. Then  he  paused,  and  walked 
about  the  room  several  times,  agitated,  but 
saying  nothing.  Near  the  door  he  stoj^ped 
short  and  stood  still  a  few  seconds;  then, 
turning  to  the  secretary,  who  stood  amazed 
at  the  spectacle  of  Washington  in  all  his 
terrors,  the  general,  in  his  wrath,  again 
broke  out,  saying. 


150 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


"  Yes,  si?',  HERE,  in  this  very  room,  07i 
this  very  spot,  I  took  leave  of  him;  I 
wished  him  success  and  honor.  '  You 
have  your  instructions,'  I  said,  'from  the 
secretary  of  war ;  I  had  a  strict  eye  to 
them,  and  will  add  but  one  word — beware 
of  a  surprise !  I  repeat  it — beware  of  a 
surprise/  You  know  how  the  Indians 
fight  us.'  He  went  off  with  that  as  my 
last  solemn  warning  thrown  into  his  ears. 
And  yet,  to  suffer  that  army  to  be  cut  to 
pieces,  hacked  by  a  surprise — the  very 
thing  I  guarded  him  against !  0  God ! 
O  God !  he's  worse  than  a  murderer ! 
How  can  he  answer  it  to  his  country  ? 
The  blood  of  the  slain  is  upon  him — the 
curse  of  widows  and  orphans — the  curse  of 
heaven ! " 

This  torrent  came  out  in  tone  appalling. 
His  very  frame  shook.     "  It  was  awful !  " 


said  Mr.  Lear.  More  than  once  he  threw 
his  hands  up  as  he  hurled  imprecations 
upon  St.  Clair.  Mr.  Lear  remained  speech- 
less— awed  into  breathless  silence.  Pres- 
ently the  roused  chief  sat  down  on  the 
sofa  once  more.  He  seemed  conscious  of 
his  passion,  and  uncomfortable.  He  was 
silent;  his  wrath  began  to  subside.  He 
at  length  said,  in  an  altered  voice, 

"This  must  not  go  beyond  this  room." 
Another  pause  followed — a  longer  one — 
when  he  said,  in  a  tone  quite  low, 

"General   St.  Clair  shall  have  justice. 
I  looked  hastily  through  the  dispatches — 


saw  the  whole  disaster,  but  not  all  the  par- 
ticulars. I  will  hear  him  without  preju- 
dice ;  he  shall  have  full  justice  ;  yes,  long, 
faithful,  and  meritorious  services  have 
their  claims." 

Washington    was    now   perfectly  calm. 
Half  an  hour  had  gone  by ;  the  storm  of 
indignation  and  passion  was  over,  and  no 
sign  of  it  was  afterward  seen  in  his  con- 
duct or  heard  in  his  conversation.     His 
wrath  on  this  occasion  was  perhaps  never 
before  aroused  to  so  great  a  pitch,  except 
when  he  confronted  Lee,  when  the  latter 
w'as  retreating  at  the  battle  of  Monmouth. 
St.   Clair  was  succeeded  bj-  the  brave 
General  Wayne,  whose  successes  retrieved 
the  misfortunes  of  his  predecessor,  as  the 
following   stirring   record  will   show.     It 
will  be  interesting,  however,  to  have  some 
account  of  the  character  and  personal  ap- 
pearance   of     Michikiniqua,     or 
"Little  Turtle,"  the  Missesago 
chief,  who  conquered  St.  Clair, 
for  in  no  recorded  battle  did  the 
sons   of    the    forest    ever    show 
themselves    better   warriors,    or 
achieve   more    renown  at  home 
and  abroad. 

Notwithstanding     his     name. 
Little  Turtle  was  at  this  time  at 
least  six  feet  high,  strong,  mus- 
cular, and  remarkably  dignified 
in  his  manners,  though  of  a  very 
sour    and   morose    countenance, 
and  apparently  very  crafty  and 
subtle.     He    was    the   son  of   a 
Miami  chief,  and  w^as  forty-five 
years   of   age   when   he  led   his    warriors 
against  poor  St.  Clair.     His  warlike  train- 
ing was  of  that  stern  and  hardening  kind 
which  was  never  omitted  in  his  nation. 

It  was  on  the  banks  of  the  Miami,  or 
Maumee,  in  1794,  that  General  Anthony 
Wayne,  the  successor  of  St.  Clair  in  the 
command  of  the  American  army  in  the 
Miami  country,  dealt  a  retributive  and 
staggering  blow  to  the  power  of  the  In- 
dians in  that  vast  and  magnificent  region, 
— a  blow  from  which  they  never  recovered. 
Realizing  the  terrible  shock  which  the 
nation  received  l)y  the  defeat  of  St.  Clair, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


151 


the  brave  Wayne — "  mad  Anthony,"  as  he 
was  commonly  called,  on  account  of  his 
reckless  courage, — at  once  made  the  best 
of  his  way  to  the  theater  of  action,  for  it 
was  easy  to  foresee,  what  indeed  immedi- 
ately ensued,  that,  under  the  encourage- 
ment of  the  successes  against  Harmer  and 
St.   Clair,  all  the  treaties  would  be   dis- 


solved, and  a  general  savage  confederacy 
formed  against  the  United  States. 

On  the  eighth  of  August,  1794,  Wayne 
had  reached  the  confluence  of  the  Au 
Glaize  and  the  Miamis  of  the  lakes,  with- 
out opposition.  The  richest  and  most 
extensive  settlements  of  the  western  In- 
dians were  here.  Halting  at  this  place, 
a  few  days,  the  Americans  threw  up  some 
works  of  defense.  A  fort  had  also  been 
built  on  the  St.  Mary,  twenty-four  miles 
in  advance  of  Fort  Recovery. 

Unwilling  to  lose  time,  or  to  be  in  any 
way  outwitted,  Wayne  moved  forward  on 
the  fifteenth  of  August,  and  on  the  six- 
teenth met  his  messenger  returning  from 
the  Indians,  and  bearing  word  from  them, 
that,  if  the  Americans  would  wait  ten  days 
at  Glaize,  they,  the  Indians,  would  decide 
for  peace  or  war.  Wayne's  only  notice  of 
this  evasive  message  was  to  march  straight 
on,  arriving,  on  the  eighteenth,  at  the 
rapids  ;  here  they  halted,  and  labored  the 
next  day  in  erecting  works  for  the  protec- 
tion of  their  baggage.  At  eight,  on  the 
morning  of  the  twentieth,  the  American 
army  moved  down  the  north  bank  of  the 


Maumee ;  Wayne's  legion  was  on  the 
right,  its  flank  covered  by  the  Maumee; 
one  brigade  of  mounted  volunteers  Avas  on 
the  left,  under  Brigadier-General  Todd; 
and  the  other  was  in  the  rear,  under  Brig- 
adier-General Barbee.  A  selected  battal- 
ion of  mounted  volunteers  moved  in  front 
of  the  legion,  commanded  by  Major  Price, 
who  was  directed  to  keep  sufficiently  ad- 
vanced, so  as  to  give  timely  notice  for  the 
troops  to  form  in  case  of  action,  it  being 
yet  undetermined  whether  the  Indians 
would  choose  peace  or  war. 

Wayne  says,  in  his  official  dispatch, 
that,  after  advancing  about  five  miles, 
Major  Price's  corps  received  so  severe  a 
fire  from  the  enemy,  who  were  secreted  in 
the  woods  and  high  grass,  as  to  compel 
them  to  retreat.  The  legion  was  immedi- 
ately formed  into  two  lines,  principally  in 
a  close  thick  wood,  which  extended  for 
miles  on  the  left,  and  for  a  verj'  consider- 
able distance  in  front ;  the  ground  was 
covered  with  old  fallen  timber,  probably 
occasioned  by  a  tornado,  which  rendered  it 
impracticable  for  the  cavalry  to  act  with 
effect,  and  afforded  the  enemy  the  most 
favorable  covert  for  their  mode  of  warfare. 
The  savages  were  formed  in  three  lines, 
within  supporting  distance  of  each  other, 
and  extending  for  nearly  two  miles  at 
right  angles  with  the  river.  Wayne  soon 
discovered,  from  the  weight  of  the  fire  and 
the  extent  of  their  lines,  that  the  enemy 
were  in  full  force  in  front,  in  possession 
of  their  favorite  ground,  and  endeavoring 
to  turn  the  American  left  flank.  He  there- 
fore gave  orders  for  the  second  line  to 
advance  and  support  the  first,  and  directed 
Major-General  Scott  to  gain  and  turn  the 
right  flank  of  the  savages,  with  the  whole 
of  the  mounted  volunteers,  by  a  circuitous 
route  ;  at  the  same  time,  the  front  line  was 
ordered  to  advance  and  charge  with  trailed 
arms,  and  rouse  the  Indians  from  their 
coverts  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  and 
when  up  to  deliver  a  close  and  well-directed 
fire  on  their  backs,  followed  by  a  brisk 
charge,  so  as  not  to  give  them  time  to 
load  again. 

All  these  orders  were  obeyed  with  spirit 


152 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


and  promptitude ;  but  such  was  the  im- 
petuosity of  the  charge  by  the  first  line  of 
infantr}',  that  the  Indians  and  Canadian 
militia  and  volunteers  were  driven  from 
their  coverts  in  so  short  a  time,  that, 
although  every  possible  exertion  was  used 


LITTLE  TURTLE. 


by  the  officers  of  the  second  line  of  the 
legion,  and  by  Generals  Scott,  Todd,  and 
Barbee,  of  the  mounted  volunteers,  to  gain 
their  proper  positions,  only  a  part  of  each 
could  get  up  in  season  to  participate  in  the 
action, — the  enemy  being  driven,  in  the 
course  of  one  hour,  more  than  two  miles, 
through  the  thick  woods,  by  less  than  one- 
half  their  numbers.  Thus  did  this  power- 
ful horde  of  savages,  who  had  assumed  to 
dictate  terms  and  throw  down  the  gauntlet 
to  the  American  nation,  abandon  them- 
selves to  flight,  and  flee  in  terror  and  dis- 
may, before  Wayne  and  his  victorious 
army.  They  were  compelled  to  sue  for 
peace  on  the  conqueror's  own  terms ;  their 


confederacy  was  shattered  into  fragments ; 
their  power  was  forever  annihilated.  On 
the  return  of  Waj'ne  to  Philadelphia,  then 
the  nation's  capital,  there  was  a  cessation 
of  all  business,  as  on  some  great  holiday ; 
the  military  turned  out  in  legions  to  meet 
him ;  the  bells  rang  out  their  merriest 
peals,  cannon  boomed  from  ever}?^  hill-top, 
and  the  plaudits  of  the  multitude  attended 
him  at  every  step.  General  Harrison's 
defeat  of  the  Indians  under  Tecumseh,  at 
Tippecanoe,  in  1811,  was  another  victory 
of  similar  brilliancy  and  importance,  de- 
serving of  mention  here. 

It  only  remains  to  add  to  this  chapter. 
General  Jackson's  crowning  achievement 
in  the  work  of  grinding  to  powder  the  mil- 
itary prestige  of  the  Indian  race  in  North 
America.  The  Creeks  and  Seminoles  had 
long  disputed  the  intrusion  of  the  white 
race,  and,  though  dreadfully  cut  to  pieces 
in  the  battles  of  Talluschatches,  Talladega, 
Emuckfaw,  Enotochopco,  and  others,  de- 
termined to  make  one  more  great  and  final 
struggle  in  the  field.  Accordingly,  with 
consummate  sagacity  and  skill,  they  se- 
lected a  position  at  the  great  bend  of  the 
Tallajjoosa,  called  by  them  Tohopeka,  and 
by  the  whites  Horseshoe  Bend.  Here, 
strongly  fortified,  were  collected  together 
the  proudest,  fiercest,  most  victorious  war- 
riors, of  all  that  race  and  region.  On  the 
27th  of  March,  1814,  Jackson  advanced 
and  attacked  them  with  tremendous  en- 
ergy, the  troops  leaping  over  the  walls  of 
the  fort,  and  engaging  in  a  hand-to-hand 
combat  with  the  savages,  the  latter  fight- 
ing with  characteristic  fury  and  despera- 
tion. Of  the  nine  hundred  warriors, — the 
flower  of  their  tribes, — who  defended  the 
fort,  seven  hundred  and  fifty  were  killed 
or  drowned ;  for,  seeing  no  chance  of 
escape,  and  scorning  to  surrender,  they 
fought  with  bloody  energy  until  nearly  all 
were  slain. 


XIII. 


WHITNEY'S  EXTPvAORDINARY   COTTON-GIN  INVEN- 
TION.—1793. 


Amazing  Impetus  Given  to  the  Culture,  Uses  and  Consumption  of  Cotton. — Revolution  in  the  In- 
dustrial Prospects  and  Political  Power  of  tlie  Soutli. — How  Cotton  Became  "  King." — Its  Relation  to 
the  Great  Themes  and  Events  in  American  History. — Ingratitude  to  Whitney. — His  Brilliant  Change 
of  Fortune  in  Another  Sphere. — Whitney's  Obscure  Circumstances. — His  Early  Mechanical  Genius. 
— Determined  to  Get  an  Education. — Goes  to  the  South  as  a  Teacher. — Change  of  Pursuits — Be- 
friended by  General  Greene's  Widow. — Amateur  Inventive  Efforts. — Low  State  of  Southern  In- 
dustry.— Objection  to  Cotton-Raising. — 
Mrs.  Greene's  Apt  Suggestion. — Whit- 
ney's Characteristic  Resolve. — Secret  and 
Persevering  Toil. — E.xciting  Rumors  as 
to  His  Purpose. — Great  Expectations  En- 
tertained.—  Triumphant  Success.  — En- 
thusiasm of  the  Cotton-Growers. — His 
Machine  Stolen  from  Him. — Infringe- 
ments upon  His  Patent. — Law-Suits,  but 
no  Redress  for  Him. — His  Pathetic  Let- 
ter to  Fulton. — He  Invents  a  Valuable 
Firearm. — Southern  Strides  in  Wealth. 


"  What  Peter  the  Great  did  to  make  Russia  dominant, 
Eli  Whilne.v't  invention  of  the  Coiton-Gin  ha»  more  than 


S:         equaled  in  its  relation  to  the  progress  and  power  of  the 


eqij 
Un 


ited  Stales."— Lord  Macaulay. 


RESULTS  OF  THE  COTTOJf-GIN. 


EYOND  all  doubt  or  question,  the 
invention  of  the  cotton-gin,  just  at 
the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
was  an  event  which  most  wonder- 
fully accelerated  the  high  career  of 
the  United  States,  in  an  industrial  point  of  view,  and,  indeed,  revolutionized,  by  an 
extraordinary  impetus,  the  manufactures  and  commerce  of  the  world.  It  may  be  re- 
garded, in  a  word,  as  the  first  key  which  was  applied  to  the  unlocking  of  those  won- 
drous natural  capabilities  of  the  new-born  republic,  the  continued  development  of 
which  has  given  her  such  a  foremost  place,  in  respect  to  material  and  political 
power,  among  the  nations  of  the  earth.  So  direct  is  its  identity  with  the  facts  and 
causes  which  have  led  to  the  country's  prodigious  progress  during  the  hundred  years 
of  its  national  history,  that  he  who  would  trace  to  their  primary  source— with  even 
ordinary  philosophical  acuteness  of  judgment  —  those  momentous  events,  whether 
material,  political,  military,  or  social,  which  have  distinguished  the  greater  part  of 
that  century,  may  well  pause  longest  and  take  his  latitude  at  this  point.  Such,  in- 
deed, is  the  great  national  consequence  accorded  by  historians  to  this  machine,  that,  of 


154 


OUR  riEST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  thousands  upon  thousands  of  inven- 
tions and  discoveries  recorded  in  the 
patent  office  at  Washington,  many  of 
them,  of  course,  of  ahnost  incalculable 
value,  only  some  half  a  dozen,  or  less, 
are  comprised  in  the  '  chronology  of 
important  dates,'  in  the  New  American 
Cyclopedia, — that  marvelous  portrayal  of 
man  and  civilization  during  the  known 
ages.  First  among  the  triumphs  of  Amer- 
ican ingenuity  thus  made  conspicuously 
historical,  is  the  invention  and  introduc- 
tion of  the  cotton-gin,  in  1793,  which  is 
the  subject  of  this  article.  That  it  should 
have  a  place  among  the  few  of  its  kind 
capable  of  coming  within  the  plan  and 
scoi>e  of  this  volume,  will  be  at  once  ap- 
parent. 

Before  entering  into  the  more  elaboi'ate 
details  pertaining  to  this  remarkable  ma- 
chine and  its  bearing  upon  American 
industry  and  commerce,  it  may  be  useful 
to  give,  in  the  first  place,  a  sketch  in  brief 
of  the  career  of  Eli  Whitney,  whose  genius 
gave  to  his  country,  and  to  mankind,  this 
great  boon.  At  an  eax-ly  age,  he  gave  in- 
dications of  that  mechanical  and  inventive 
talent,  for  which  he  was  afterwards  so 
gi'eatly  celebrated.  His  father  was  a 
farmer  in  Westborough,  Massachusetts,  a 
village  where  only  the  ordinary  advantages 
of  a  common-school  education  were  availa- 
ble. But  Mr.  Whitney  was  desirous  of 
the  benefits  of  a  more  complete  course  of 
instruction,  and  at  the  age  of  twenty-three 
entered  the  college  in  New  Haven.  He 
received  the  honors  of  this  institution  in 
1792,  and  soon  after  went  to  Georgia,  in 
the  expectation  of  opening  a  i)rivate 
school,  and  devoting  himself  to  that  profes- 
sion. In  this  expectation  he  was  disap- 
pointed, for,  on  arriving  at  the  place  of  his 
destination,  he  was  informed  that  another 
tutor  was  already  filling  the  station  he  ex- 
pected to  occupy. 

Having  traveled  from  the  north,  to  Sa- 
vannah, in  company  with  Mrs.  Greene,  the 
wjdow  of  the  revolutionary  general  and 
hero  of  that  name,  he  received  from  that 
lady  a  courteous  invitation  to  make  her 
house   his    home,    while   engaged   in   his 


course  of  studies  preparatory  to  entering 
the  legal  j^rofession.  This  most  favorable 
offer,  so  timely  in  view  of  his  shattered 
health  and  scanty  means,  he  gratefully 
availed  himself  of. 

It  was  on  the  occasion  of  a  social  gath- 
ering of  some  neighbors  and  others,  one 
afternoon,  at  the  residence  of  Mrs.  Greene, 
— a  party  including  several  planters  of 
distinction,  a  few  of  whom  had  served  as 
officers  under  General  Greene's  command, 
— that  Whitney  first  resolved  to  rouse  his 
genius  to  its  utmost  accomplishment. 
Among  other  remarks  made  by  the  gentle- 
men present,  on  the  occasion  referred  to, 
was  one  in  regard  to  the  depressed  condi- 
tion of  the  agricultural  interests  of  Geor- 
gia, namely,  that  since  all  the  lands  in 
that  region,  not  suitable  for  the  cultivation 
of  rice,  were  eminently  favorable  for  the 
production  of  heavy  cotton-crops,  it  was 
exceedingly  to  be  regretted  that  no  means 
existed  of  cleansing  the  green  seed-cotton, 
or  of  sej^arating  it  from  its  seed,  in  a 
manner  sufficiently  thorough  to  make  it 
profitable, — it  being  almost  useless,  in  the 
absence  of  such  a  method  or  contrivance, 
to  undertake  to  grow  cotton-crops  for  sale, 
because  only  a  pound  of  this  green  seed- 
cotton  could  be  cleaned  and  made  mer- 
chantable, per  day,  by  a  single  laborer, 
and  the  price  obtainable  for  it,  when  thus 
prepared,  was  but  a  few  cents  per  pound. 

In  response  to  these  suggestions,  Mrs. 
Greene,  with  true  womanly  perceptions, 
and  knowing  Whitney's  ingenious  turn  of 
mind  in  the  sphere  of  mechanics,  naively 
remarked,  "  Well,  gentlemen,  apply  to  my 
young  friend,  Mr.  Whitney, — he  can  make 
anything;"  and,  suiting  the  action  to  the 
word,  she  led  them  into  the  room  where 
her  tambour  or  embroidery-frame  was 
kept,  together  with  some  other  ingenious 
contrivances,  and  exhibited  them  to  the 
company  as  evidences  of  Whitney's  sin- 
gular skill.  On  being  introduced  to  these 
gentlemen,  and  entering  into  conversation 
with  them  on  the  subject,  Mr.  Whitney 
was  obliged  to  inform  them  that  he  had 
never  seen  cotton  nor  cotton-seed  in  his 
life ! 


156 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


In  a  few  months,  he  had  advanced  so 
far  and  so  successfully  with  his  machine, 
as  to  leave  no  doubt  of  his  having  achieved 
a  complete  triumph.  In  acknowledgment 
of  Mrs.  Greene's  many  and  valued  atten- 
tions to  him  during  his  labors,  and  her 
steadfast  interest  in  his  fortunes,  the  grat- 
ifying privilege  was  accorded  her,  on  a 
day  duly  appointed,  of  exhibiting  to  an 
invited  assembly  of  guests,  principally 
planters,  a  model  of  the  saw-gin  that  was 
to  produce  such  a  mighty  change.  Their 
astonishment  was  almost  unbounded, 
when,  on  examining  the  principle  and 
working  of  the  instrument,  they  fouixl 
that  more  cotton  could  be  separated  from 
the  seed  in  one  day  by  the  labor  of  a  single 
hand,  than  could  be  done,  in  the  usual 
manner,  in  many  months.  Enthusiasm 
over  such  a  result,  and  in  view  of  such  a 
prospect,  was  very  natural. 

The  report  of  Mr.  Whitney's  invention 
spread  very  rapidly  throughout  the  South, 
exciting  intense  interest,  and  the  planters 
in  especial  were  eager  to  see  a  machine 
that  promised  such  incalculable  benefits  to 
themselves  and  to  the  nation.  For  a  time, 
however,  Whitney  declined  showing  the 
gin,  as  it  was  not  entirely  perfected,  and 
because  it  might  be  imitated  by  others, 
and  he  be  deprived  in  that  way  of  his 
right  to  a  patent.  But,  so  great  was  the 
excitement  to  which  the  people  had  been 
wrought  up,  and  so  tempting  was  the 
chance  which  presented  itself  to  the  un- 
principled, to  appropriate  to  themselves 
the  fruits  of  other  men's  toils,  that  the 
building  in  which  Whitney  carried  on  his 
labors  was  actually  broken  into,  one  night, 
by  a  party  of  lawless  individuals,  and  the 
instrument  secretly  carried  off.  Thus  it 
was  that  several  machines  were  constructed 
on  the  basis  of  Whitney's  invention,  and 
indeed  varying  but  little  from  the  original, 
though  it  was  artfully  attempted  to  have 
the  deviation  sufficiently  obvious  to  escape 
the  penalties  of  imitation. 

It  may  well  be  supposed  that  the  vari- 
ous lawsuits  growing  out  of  the  infringe- 
ments upon  his  rights,  was  an  exhausting 
draft  upon  Mr.  NVhitney's  funds.     But,  in 


addition  to  this  drawback  upon  his  enter- 
prise, there  befell  him  the  successive 
calamities  of  prolonged  sickness,  tjie 
destruction  of  his  manufacturing  estab- 
lishment by  fire,  and,  worse  than  all,  the 
assertion  on  the  part  of  certain  unfriendly 
persons,  that  the  use  of  the  machine  ought 
to  be  abandoned,  because  it  greatly  in- 
jured the  fiber  of  the  cotton.  The  testi- 
mony of  some  of  the  British  manufacturers 
was  industriously  circulated,  to  the  effect 
that  the  old  roller-gin,  which  ground  the 
seed  to  impalpability,  was  preferable  to 
that  which  separated  the  seed  from  the 
staple,  at  the  sacrifice  of  its  quality !  And 
here  it  may  be  of  interest  to  state,  that,  in 
order  to  overcome  the  difficulty  of  separat- 
ing the  seed  from  the  wool  by  hand,  a 
rude  hand-mill,  or  roller-gin,  was  at  an 
early  period  substituted,  in  some  parts  of 
India  and  China,  by  which  from  forty  to 
sixty-five  pounds  could  be  cleaned  in  a 
day.  After  this,  the  cotton  was  further 
cleaned  from  dirt  and  knots  by  '  bowing.' 
A  large  bow  being  placed  in  a  heap  of 
cotton,  the  string  was  made  to  vibrate  pow- 
erfully, thus  dispersing  and  cleaning  the 
heap.  These  means,  employed  from  re- 
mote times  in  eastern  countries,  M-ere  also 
formerly  used  by  American  growers. 
Much  of  the  sea-island  cotton  is  still  separ 
rated  from  its  seeds  by  rollers  constructed 
on  a  large  scale,  and  worked  by  horses, 
steam,  or  water.  These  rollers  are  of 
wood,  and  revolve  rapidly  in  contact  with 
each  other ;  as  they  do  so,  a  sort  of  comb 
with  iron  teeth  acts  on  the  cotton  as  it 
passes  between  them,  and  detaches  the 
seeds,  which  fly  off  like  sparks  in  all  direc- 
tions. Particles  of  seeds  which  escape  and 
pass  through  with  the  cotton,  are  removed 
by  hand.  The  cotton  is  then  whisked 
about  in  a  light  wheel,  and,  when  well 
winnowed,  it  is  conveyed  to  the  packing- 
house, and  forced  into  bags  bj'^  means  of 
screws,  until  each  bag  contains  the  requi- 
site number  of  pounds.  But  short-stapled 
cotton  cannot  be  properly  cleaned  by  this 
process  ;  the  seeds  are  so  firmly  attached 
to  the  wool,  that  a  more  powerful  machine 
is  needed, — a7ul  here  the  utilty  of  the  saw- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


157 


gin  over  the  roller-contrivance  is  manifest. 
The  cotton  is  put  into  a  long  and  narrow 
hopper,  one  side  of  wliich  is  formed  by  a 
grating  of  strong  paraHel  wires,  one-eightli 
of  an  inch  apart.  Close  to  the  hoi)per  is  a 
roller  set  with  circular  saws,  an  inch  and  a 
half  apart.  These,  as  they  revolve,  pass 
within  the  grating  of  the  hopper  to  a  cer- 
tain depth,  and  seize  by  their  teeth  on  the 
locks  of  cotton,  dragging  them  through  the 
wires,  which  are  not  wide  enough  apart  to 
allow  the  seeds  to  pass  also.  The  cotton 
is  afterwards  swept  from  the  saws  by  a 
revolving  cylindrical  brush.  Thus  the 
separation  is  effected  in  a  cheap,  easy,  and 
rapid  manner.  At  first,  Whitney  used 
bent  wires  or  teeth,  like  those  of  the 
common  card,  but  much  larger  and 
stronger,  and  these  were  placed  in  rows  on 
a  revolving  cylinder.  The  cotton  was 
separated  from  this  cylinder  by  a  frame  of 
parallel  wires ;  as  the  cylinder  revolved, 
the  teeth  extending  through  the  wire- 
frame caught  the  cotton  and  drew  it 
through  the  grating,  but  the  seeds  being 
too  large  to  pass  between  the  wires,  were 
of  course  separated  from  the  fiber.  These 
teeth,  however,  being  found  too  weak  to 
pull  the  cotton  from  the  seed  without  be- 
coming bent  or  broken,  Whitney  substi- 
tuted a  circular  saw  in  their  place.  The 
teeth  of  the  saw  being  large,  and  shaped 
like  the  beak  of  a  bird,  had  more  strength 
and  were  equally  effective. 

So  serious  an  objection  as  that  brought 
by  the  British  manufacturers,  namely,  that 
the  operation  of  this  machine  injured  the 
quality  of  the  cotton,  was  a  most  disheart- 
ening one  to  Mr.  Whitney  and  his  part- 
ner, Mr.  Miller,  for,  on  its  truth  or  falsity, 
their  fortune  and  fate  depended.  For  a 
time,  the  process  of  patent  ginning  was 
quite  at  a  stand ;  and,  indeed,  little  was 
heard  of  it  by  the  originators,  except  the 
condolence  of  a  few  real  friends,  who  ex- 
pressed their  regret  that  so  promising  an 
invention  had  entirely  failed.  Of  the  in- 
ventor's state  of  mind,  as  well  as  the  con- 
dition of  his  purse,  at  this  time,  some  idea 
may  be  formed  from  a  letter  written  by 
"Whitney,  in  the  autumn  of  1797,  in  which 


he  sa^'s :  'The  extreme  embarrassments 
which  have  for  a  long  time  been  accumu- 
lating upon  me  are  now  become  so  great 
that  it  will  be  impossible  for  me  to  strug- 
gle against  them  many  days  longer.  It 
has  required  my  utmost  exertions  to  exist, 


without  making  the  least  progress  in  our 
business.  I  have  labored  hard  against  the 
strong  current  of  disappointment,  which 
has  been  threatening  to  carry  us  down  the 
cataract ;  but  I  haA'e  labored  with  a  shat- 
tered oar,  and  struggled  in  vain,  unless 
some  speedy  relief  is  obtained.  Life  is 
but  short,  at  best,  and  six  or  seven  years 
out  of  the  midst  of  it  is,  to  him  who  makes 
it,  an  immense  sacrifice.  My  most  unre- 
mitted attention  has  been  directed  to  our 
business.  I  have  sacrificed  to  it  other 
objects,  from  which,  before  this  time,  I 
might  certainly  have  gained  twenty  or 
thirty  thousand  dollars.  M3'  whole  j»ros- 
pects  have  been  embarked  in  it,  with  the 
expectation  that  I  should,  before  this  time, 
have  realized  something  from  it.'  Against 
all  opposition,  the  machine  finally  became 
appreciated  according  to  its  merits,  and, 
though  the  country  was  flooded  with  imi- 
tations,— against  the  manufacturers  of 
which,  it  seemed  almost  impossible  to 
obtain  any  redress  or  protection  in  the 
courts  of  law, — a  large  demand  set  in,  and 


158 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Whitney's  golden  visions  appeared  likely 
to  be  realized. 

At  the  suggestion  made  to  them  hy 
some  of  their  business  friends,  Miller  and 
Whitney  were  induced,  in  view  of  the 
public  benefit  that  would  accrue  to  the 
cotton-growing  states,  by  the  general  and 
inexpensive  introduction  of  the  saw-gin,  to 
offer  the  exclusive  disposal  of  the  machine 
in  South  Carolina  to  the  legislature  of 
that  state,  which  offer  was  finallj^  accepted ; 
the  sum  paid  to  the  inventors,  for  this 
privilege,  being  &ity  thousand  dollars. 
Though  this  sum  was  only  one-half  of  that 
which  had  originally  been  fixed  upon  by 
the  patentees,  it  seems  to  have  given  quite 
a  zest  to  IVIr.  Whitney's  feelings  and  an- 
ticipations, for  he  wrote  in  relation  to  the 
new  arrangement :  '  The  use  of  the  machine 
here  (in  South  Carolina)  is  amazingly  ex- 
tensive, and  the  value  of  it  beyond  all 
calculation.  It  may,  without  exaggera- 
tion, be  said  to  have  raised  the  value  of 
seven-eighths  of  all  the  three  southern 
states  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  per  cent. 
We  get  but  a  song  for  it  in  comparison 
with  the  worth  of  the  thing;  but  it  is  se- 
curing  something.  It  will  enable  Miller 
and  Whitney  to  pay  all  their  debts,  and 
divide  something  between  them.  It  es- 
tablishes a  precedent  that  will  be  valuable 
as  respects  our  collections  in  other  states, 
and  I  think  there  is  now  a  fair  prospect 
that  I  shall  in  the  event  realize  property 
enough  to  render  me  comfortable,  and,  in 
some  measure,  independent.'  It  was  not, 
however,  without  much  trouble  and  litiga- 
tion, that  Whitney  realized  the  fulfillment 
of  this  contract. 

But  the  expense  involved  in  numerous 
suits  at  law  against  the  encroachers  upon 
his  patent,  was  more  than  the  profits 
yielded  by  the  sales,  and  these  struggles 
and  expenditures,  and  constantly-recurring 
discouragements,  sent  Mr.  Miller  to  a  pre- 
mature grave,  at  the  close  of  1803.  In  the 
year  1812,  Mr.  Whitney  applied  to  con- 
gress for  a  renewal  of  his  patent,  in  the 
hope  of  still  receiving  some  substantial 
benefit  from  his  invention.  But  the 
southern    delegation    generally  —  though 


with  some  honorable  exceptions — were  op- 
posed to  it ;  which  was  of  course  the  more 
unexpected,  as  well  as  wounding,  in  view 
of  the  immense  advantage  of  the  machine 
to  that  part  of  the  United  States.  In 
regai'd  to  this  last-mentioned  point,  no  tes- 
timony could  be  more  weighty  or  emphatic 
in  the  affirmative  than  that  by  Judge 
Johnson,  an  eminent  South  Carolinian, 
and,  at  the  time  of  speaking,  a  judge  of 
the  United  States  supreme  court : — '  The 
whole  interior  of  the  southern  states  (these 
are  the  words  of  Judge  Johnson,  as  judi- 
cially uttered)  was  languishing,  and  its 
inhabitants  emigrating  for  want  of  some 
object  to  engage  their  attention,  and  em- 
ploy their  industry,  when  the  invention  of 
this  machine  at  once  opened  views  to  them 
which  set  the  whole  country  in  active 
motion.  From  childhood  to  age,  it  has 
presented  to  us  a  lucrative  employment. 
Individuals  who  were  depressed  with  pov- 
erty, and  sunk  in  idleness,  have  suddenly 
risen  to  Avealth  and  respectability.  Our 
debts  have  been  j)aid  off.  Our  capitals 
have  increased,  and  our  lands  trebled 
themselves  in  value.  We  cannot  express 
the  weight  of  the  obligation  which  the 
country  owes  to  this  invention.  The  ex- 
tent of  it  cannot  now  be  seen.  Some  faint 
presentiment  may  be  formed  from  the  re- 
flection that  cotton  is  rapidly  supplanting 
wool,  flax,  silk,  and  even  furs,  in  manufac- 
tures, and  may  one  day  profitably  supply 
the  use  of  specie  in  our  East  India  trade. 
Our  sister  states  also  participate  in  the 
benefits  of  this  invention ;  for,  beside  af- 
fording the  raw  material  for  their  manu- 
facturers, the  bulkiness  and  quantity  of 
the  article  afford  a  valuable  employment 
for  their  shipping.' 

Such  was  the  testimony  borne  by  the 
highest  possible  authority,  in  regard  to 
the  wonderful  value  and  effect  of  this  in- 
vention. And  yet,  though  full  a  dozen 
years  had  elapsed  since  Whitney  had 
staked  his  all  upon  the  machine,  and  was 
even  now  pleading  for  redress  against  the 
piracies  committed  upon  his  rights  and 
property,  he  was  actually  a  j^oor  man, 
struggling  against  remorseless  fate.     Mr. 


GKEAT  AND  MEMOKABLE  EVENTS. 


159 


^Yliitney,  in  a  letter  almost  pathetic  in  its 
rehearsal  of  his  wrongs,  addressed  to 
Robert  Fulton,  the  inventor  of  the  first 
successful  steamboat,  remarks,  that  'the 
difficulties  witli  which  he  had  to  contend 
originated,  principally,  in  the  want  of  a 
disposition  in  mankind  to  do  justice.  The 
invention  was  new  and  distinct  from  every 
other ;  it  stood  alone.  It  was  not  inter- 
woven with  anything  before  known;  and 
it  can  seldom  happen  that  an  invention  is 
so  strongly  marked,  and  can  be  so  clearly 
and  specifically  identified ;  and  I  have 
always  believed  that  I  should  have  had  no 
difficulty  in  causing  my  rights  to  be  re- 
spected, if  it  had  been  less  valuable,  and 
been  used  only  by  a  small  portion  of  the 
community.  But  the  use  of  this  machine 
being  immensely  profitable  to  almost  every 
planter  in  the  cotton  districts,  all  were  in- 
terested in  trespassing  upon  the  patent 
right,  and  each  kept  the  other  in  counte- 
nance. Demagogues  made  themselves 
popular  by  misrepresentation  and  un- 
founded clamors,  both  against  the  right, 
and  the  law  made  for  its  protection. 
Hence  there  arose  associations  and  combi- 
nations to  oppose  both.  At  one  time,  few 
men  in  Georgia  dared  to  come  into  court 
and  testify  to  the  most  simple  facts  within 
their  knowledge,  relative  to  the  use  of  the 
machine.     In  one  instance,  I  had   great 


difficulty  in  proving  that  the  machine  had 
been  lined  in  Georgia,  although,  at  the 
same  moment,  there  were  three  separate 
sets  of  this  machinery  in  motion  within 
fifty  yards  of  the  building;  in  which  the 
court  sat,  and  all  so  near  that  the  rattling 
of  the  wheels  was  distinctly  heard  on  the 
steps  of  the  court-house.'  Surely,  few 
men  of  genius  have  rendered  so  great  ben- 
efits to  their  country,  by  means  of  an  in- 
vention, who  have  been  so  heartlessly 
treated  and  so  poorly  remunerated.  De- 
spairing of  ever  realizing  an  adequate 
return,  therefore,  for  his  cotton-gin,  Whit- 
ney applied  his  inventive  skill  to  the  im- 
proved manufacture  of  firearms,  in  which 
he  was  very  successful,  and,  having  ob- 
tained valuable  contracts  from  the  govern- 
ment for  his  improved  muskets,  he 
ultimately  acquired  a  fortune, — a  strange 
but  most  deserved  sequel  to  his  hitherto 
checkered  career. 

The  progress  and  value  of  the  cotton 
production  in  the  United  States,  under  the 
impetus  given  to  it  by  "Whitney's  inven- 
tion, may  be  characterized  as  simply 
prodigious  ;  and,  in  the  mind  of  the  philo- 
sophic statesman  and  student,  the  story  of 
the  cotton-gin  will  forever  weave  itself, 
most  intimately  and  wonderfully,  with 
those  great  themes  and  events  which  make 
up  the  nation's  history. 


XIY. 

THE    FAMOUS    WHISKEY    INSURKECTION    IN   PENNSYL- 
VANIA.—1794. 


Violent  Resistance  to  the  United  States  Excise  Laws. — Monster  Meetings  and  Inflammatory  Appeals 
— Officials  and  Loyal  Citizens  Whipped,  Branded,  Tarred,  and  Feathered. — Intense  Excitement  in  all 
the  States. — Washington  Declares  that  the  Union  is  in  Peril  and  Heads  an  Army  to  Meet  the  Crisis. 
— Precipitate  Flight  of  the  Armed  Rebels. — Congressional  Tax  on  Spirits. — Cry  of  "  Tyranny  !  "  from 
Distillers. — Western  Pennsylvania  in  a  Blaze. — Extent  of  her  Whiskey  Interests. — Ambitious  Politi- 
cians at  Work. — A  Revolt  Incited  by  Them. — Bradford  the  Chief  Desperado. — Reign  of  Terror 
Inaugurated. — Tax-Collectors  Roughly  Handled. — The  Incendiary's  Torch. — "  Tom  the  Tinker's  " 
Ruffianism — Fury  of  the  Factionists. — Firm  Courage  of  Loyal  Men. — Perplexity  of  the  United  States 
Government. — Presidential  Proclamation. — Law  and  Order  to  be  Maintained. — Troops  Summoned 
into  Service. — Prompt  and  Patriotic  Response. — The  Olive  Branch  vs.  the  Sword. — Bradford  Scorna 
Conciliation. — Washington's  Mind  Made  Up. — Prevents  the  Effiision  of  Blood. 


*'  Here's  to  your  fery  goot  health. 
And  tainn  ta  whusky  duty  I  "— Soiro  of  the  Times. 


X  HE  year  1794  is  distinguished   in  American  history  by  a  remark- 

^     able  revolt   among    a   portion  of  the    inhabitants    of   Pennsylvania, 

^  _^^        and    which    is    known    as    the    Whiskey    Insurrection.      In 

1791,   congress  had  enacted  laws   laying  excise  duties  upon 

spirits  distilled  within  the  United  States.     This  tax  excited 

^^    great  and  general  opposition,  but  nowhere  else  was  such  vio- 


lence exhibited  in  resisting  the  execution  of  the  law,  as  in  the 
western  counties  of  Pennsylvania,  where  the  crops  of  grain 
were  so  over-abundant,  that,  in  the  absence  of  an  adequate 
market  for  its  sale,  an  immense  quantity  of  the  cereal  was 
distilled  into  whiskey, — the  far-famed  "  Monongahela,"  so 
called  from  the  name  of  the  principal  river  of  the  region  where 
the  manufacture  was  carried  on.  It  was  insisted  upon,  by 
tliese  people,  that  an  article  produced  so  exclusively,  by  an 
isolated  community,  as  their  sole  and  necessary  dependence, 
ought  not  to  be  taxed  for  the  support  of  the  federal  government;  and  this  opinion 
they  adhered  to  —  as  the  following  pages  will  be  found  to  show  —  Avith  a  tenacity 
worthy  of  a  better  cause,  notwithstanding  the  day  of  temperance  societies  had  not 
then  dawned 

Public  meetings  were  held   in  all  the  chief  towns,  at  which  the  action  of  congress 
was   loudly  denounced  as  oppression  to  be  battled  against  to  the  very  last  extremity; 


CAUSES  OF  THE  WHISKEY  IN- 
8UKUECTION   IN   I'ENN. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


IGl 


dfihiriiig,  too,  tliut  an}- 
j)(.'rson  wlio  liad  acceptinl 
or  luiglit  accept  an  office 
under  government,  in  or- 
der to  curry  tlie  law  into 
effect,  should  be  regarded 
as  an  enemy  of  liis  country-, 
to  Le  treated  with  contempt 
and  total  non-intercourse, 
official  and  personal.  The 
federal  government  was 
scoffed  at,  its  coercive 
authority  disavowed;  thus, 
with  the  motto,  ^^Liherfif 
and  No  Excise!^''  the  hall 
of  rebellion  rolled  on. 

It  was  at  this  stage  in 
the  progress  of  Jtff.urs,  and 
only  one  day  preceding  the 
assembling  of  an  import- 
ant meeting  of  malcon- 
tents of  Pittsburg,  that 
the  tax  collector  for  the 
counties  of  Alleghany  and 
Washington  made  his  ap- 
pearance. Aware  of  his 
business,  a  party  of  men, 
armed  and  disguised,  way- 
laid him  at  a  jilace  on 
Pigeon  Creek,  in  AVashing- 
ton  count}',  seized,  tarred 
and  feathered  him,  cut  off 
his  hair,  and  deprived  him 
of  his  horse,  obliging  him 
to  decamp  on  foot  in  that 
ludicrous  and  painful  con- 
dition. In  attempting  to 
serve  legal  processes  upon 
the  perpetrators  of  this  out- 
rage, the  marshal's  deputy 
was  also  seized,  whipped, 
tarred  and  feathered;  and, 
after  having  his  money  and 
horse  taken  from  him,  the 
ruffians  blindfolded  and  led 
him  into  the  depths  of  the 
forest,  where  he  was  tied 
and  left  to  his  fate.  He 
was  fortunately  discovered 
in  season,  and  rescued,  by 
some  friends. 


162 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Not  long  after,  a  person  of  the  name  of 
Roseberry  underwent  the  humiliating  pun- 
ishment of  tarring  and  feathering,  with 
some  attendant  aggravations,  for  having 
in  conversation  hazarded  the  very  natural 
and  just,  but  unpalatable  remark,  that  the 
inhabitants  of  a  county  could  not  reasona- 
bly expect  protection  from  a  government 
whose  laws  they  so  strenuously  opposed. 
So  great,  too,  was  the  audacity  of  the  per- 
petrators of  these  outrages,  that  an  armed 
banditti  of  them  ventured  to  seize  and 
carry  off  two  persons  who  were  witnesses 
against  the  rioters  in  the  case  of  Wilson, 
in  order  to  prevent  their  giving  testimony 
in  a  court  then  sitting,  or  about  to  sit. 

On  the  part  of  the  executive,  suc^li  open 
defiance  of  the  laws,  and  of  the  authority 
of  the  government,  was  believed  to  imperi- 
ously require  that  the  strength  and  effi- 
ciency of  those  laws  should  be  tried,  by 
the  governing  power.  Accordingly,  Wash- 
ington issued  his  proclamation,  emphati- 
cally condemning  the  lawless  acts  and  pro- 
ceedings, warning  all  to  return  at  once  to 
their  allegiance,  and  assuring  them  that 
the  laws  should  be  executed  at  any  hazard. 
Against  the  leaders  in  some  of  the  out- 
rages which  had  been  committed,  bills  of 
indictment  were  found  in  a  court  of  the 
United  States,  upon  which  process  was 
directed  to  issue,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
process  was  also  issued  against  a  great 
number  of  non-complying  distillers. 

This  proclamation  not  producing  the 
desired  effect,  President  Washington  next 
endeavored  to  prevent  the  necessity  of 
liaving  recourse  to  active  military  meas- 
ures, by  making  it  the  interest  of  the  dis- 
tillers to  pay  the  duty.  To  this  end,  in 
addition  to  the  prosecutions  instituted 
against  di-linquents,  the  spirits  distilled  in 
the  counties  op])osing  the  law  were  ordered 
to  be  seized  ou  their  way  to  market,  by 
the  officers  of  the  revenue,  and  the  con- 
tractors for  tlic  army  wore  directed  to 
purchase  oidy  the  spirits  on  which  the 
duties  had  been  paid.  But,  whatever  were 
the  inclinations  of  tlie  distillers — or  some 
of  them, — the  fear  of  an  infuriated  popu- 
lace   prevented   a  compliance  with   these 


orders;  and  the  factionists  continued  to 
take  encouragement  from  the  lenity  of  the 
executive,  in  the  expectation  of  ultimate 
success.  By  violent  threats  tliey  still 
kept  the  marshal  from  serving  his  precepts, 
committed  numerous  outrages  upon  the 
friends  of  government,  and  perfected  their 
organization  into  military  bands,  to  resist 
any  force  that  might  be  sent  to  subject 
them  to  the  laws.  They  styled  their  acts, 
^^  mending  the  stil/." 

It  is  not  to  be  doubted  that  this  inflamed 
state  of  the  public  mind  was  greatly  ag- 
gravated b}^  the  ambitious  designs  and 
intemperate  speeches  of  a  few  leading 
men.  Conspicuous  among  the  friends  of 
the  malcontents  were  Bradford,  Marsliall, 
Smilie,  Brackenridge,  Husbands,  Findley, 
and  Gallatin.  The  first-named,  David 
Bradford,  was  the  chief  agitator,  and  led 
in  person  the  desperate  bands,  in  their 
career  of  violence.  He  was  an  old  settler 
in  Washington  county,  had  accumulated  a 
large  fortune,  and,  being  bold  and  unscru- 
pulous in  his  politics,  wielded  a  powerful 
influence  over  a  certain  class.  Those  asso- 
ciated with  him  were  men  of  decided  abil- 
ity, being  of  Scotch  or  Irish  birth,  and 
possessing  their  dominant  characteristics 
of  nationality. 

In  the  early  part  of  1794,  the  hostility 
of  the  law-breakers  seemed  to  become  more 
implacable  and  demonstrative.  William 
Richmond,  who  had  given  information 
against  some  of  the  rioters,  in  the  affair 
of  Wilson,  had  his  barn  burnt,  with  all  its 
valuable  contents;  and  the  same  thing 
happened  to  Robert  Shawan,  a  distiller, 
who  had  been  among  the  first  to  comply 
with  the  law,  and  who  had  always  spoken 
favoral)l_y  of  it.  These  instances  were 
multiplied.  The  law-abiding  inhabitants 
were  dogged  and  pui-sued  by  disorderly 
persons,  their  houses  and  distilleries 
broken  into,  property  destroyed,  conflagra- 
tions kindled,  machinery  disabled,  life 
threatened. 

June  being  the  month  for  receiving  an- 
nual entries  for  stills,  endeavors  were  used 
to  open  offices  in  AVestmoreland  and 
AV'ashington,  where  it  had  liitherto  been 


GREAT  AND  ME:\I0KAI;LE  EVENTS. 


163 


found  impracticable.  With  much  pains 
and  difficulty,  places  were  at  last  procured 
for  the  pur])ose. 

That  in  Westmoreland  was  repeatedly 
attacked  by  armed  men,  in  the  niglit,  who 
frequently  fired  upon  it ;  but  it  was  de- 
fended with  so  much  determination  and 
perseverance,  as  to  have  been  maintained 
during  the  remainder  of  the  month.  That 
in  Washington,  after  repeated  attempts, 
was  sui>pressed. 

Charging  himself  with  the  service  of  the 
processes  officially  intrusted  to  him,  the 
marshal  repaired  in  person  to  the  country 
which  was  the  scene  of  these  disorders. 
He  continued  unmolested  in  the  perform- 
ance of  this  duty,  until,  being  seen  in 
company  with  General  John  Neville,  in- 
spector of  the  county  and  a  zealous  advo- 
cate of  the  tax,  they  were  assaulted  on  the 
road  by  a  body  of  armed  men,  who  fired, 
but  without  doing  any  injury.  Early  the 
next  morning,  a  party  attacked  the  house 
of  General  Neville,  the  inspector,  but  he 
defended  himself  bravely  and  successfully. 

Apprehending,  however,  that  the  busi- 
ness would  not  terminate  here,  Neville 
made  application  by  letter  to  the  judges, 
generals  of  militia,  and  sheriff  of  the 
county,  for  protection.  A  reply  to  his 
application,  from  John  Wilkins,  Jr.,  and 
John  Gibson,  magistrates  and  militia-offi- 
cers, informed  him  that  the  laws  could  not 
be  executed,  so  as  to  afford  him  the  pro- 
tection to  which  he  was  entitled,  owing  to 
the  too  general  combination  of  the  people 
in  that  part  of  Pennsylvania  to  oppose  the 
revenue  law  ;  adding,  that  they  would  take 
every  step  in  their  power  to  bring  the 
rioters  to  justice,  and  would  be  glad  to 
receive  information  relative  to  the  individ- 
uals concerned  in  the  attack  on  his  house, 
that  prosecutions  might  be  commenced 
against  them — at  the  same  time  expressing 
regret  that,  should  the  citizens  of  the 
county  be  ordered  out,  in  support  of  the 
civil  authority,  very  few  could  be  gotten 
who  were  not  of  the  party  of  the  rioters. 

The  day  following,  the  insurgents  re- 
assembled with  a  considerable  augmenta- 
tion  of   numbers,    amounting   to   at  least 


five  hundred,  and,  on  the  seventeenth  of 
July,  renewed  their  attack  upon  the  house 
of  the  inspector,  who,  in  the  interval,  had 
taken  the  pi-ecaution  of  calling  to  his  aid 
a  small  detachment  from  the  garrison  of 
Fort  Pitt,  which,  at  the  time  of  the  attack, 
consisted  of  eleven  men,  who  had  been 
joined  by  Major  Abraham  Kirkpatrick,  a 
friend  and  connection  of  the  ins^^ector. 
The  leader  of  the  insurgents  was  a  despe- 
rado named  John  Holcroft,  or  "  I'om  the 
Tinker^''  as  he  was  familiarly  called. 

There  being  scarcel}'^  a  prospect  of  ef- 
fectual defense  against  so  large  a  number 
as  then  appeared,  and  as  the  inspector  had 
everything  to  apprehend  for  his  person,  if 
taken,  it  was  judged  advisable  that  he 
should  withdraw  from  the  house  to  a  place 
of  concealment;  Major  Kirkpatrick  gen- 
erously agreeing  to  remain  with  the  eleven, 
intending,  if  practicable,  to  make  a  capit- 
ulation in  favor  of  the  property,  or,  if  un- 
successful, to  defend  it  as  long  as  possible. 

A  parley  took  ])lace,  under  cover  of  a 
flag,  which  was  sent  by  the  insurgents  to 
the  house,  with  a  demand  that  the  inspec- 
tor should  come  forth,  renounce  his  office, 
and  stipulate  never  again  to  accept  an 
office  under  the  same  laws.  To  this  it  was 
replied,  that  the  inspector  had  left  the 
house  upon  their  first  approach,  and  that 
the  place  to  which  he  had  retired  was  un- 
known. They  then  declared  that  they 
must  have  whatever  related  to  his  office ; 
to  which,  answer  was  made  they  might 
send  persons,  not  exceeding  six,  to  search 
the  house,  and  take  away  whatever  papers 
they  could  find,  pertaining  to  the  office. 
But,  not  satisfied  with  this,  they  insisted, 
unconditionally,  that  the  armed  men  who 
were  in  the  house  for  its  defense,  should 
march  out  and  ground  their  arms.  Major 
Kirkpatrick  peremptorily  refused,  consid- 
ering it  and  representing  it  to  them  as  a 
proof  of  a  design  to  destroy  the  jiroperty  ; 
and  this  refusal  put  an  end  to  the  parley. 

Brisk  firing  now  took  place  between  the 
insurgents  and  the  party  in  the  house, 
lasting  for  about  an  hour,  till  the  assail- 
ants, having  set  fire  to  the  neighboring 
and  adjacent  buildings,  eight  in  number, 


K4 


OUR  FIRST  CEXTURY.— 177G-1S7G. 


the  intensenoss  of  tlie  lieat,  and  the  danger 
of  an  immediate  communication  of  fire 
to  the  house,  obliged  tlie  brave  Ivirkpat- 
rick  and  his  small  party  to  come  out  and 
surrender  themselves. 

Desirous  of  ascertaining  their  full 
strength,  and  also  to  discover  any  secret 
enemies  that  might  remain  unsuspected  in 
the  midst  of  these  treasonable  movements, 
Bradford  and  his  comrades  proceeded  with 
a  high  and  unsparing  hand.  INIonster 
meetings  of  friends  and  sympathizers  were 


DAVID  BR.IDFORD. 

appointed,  to  determine  the  fii'st  question ; 
and,  to  obtain  satisfaction  in  regard  to  the 
second,  the  luail  between  Pittsburg  and 
Philadelphia  was  stopped  b}'^  armed  men, 
who  cut  it  open,  and  took  out  the  letters 
which  it  contained.  In  some  of  these 
letters,  a  direct  disapprobation  of  the  vio- 
lent measures  which  had  been  adopted 
was  openly  avowed.  Upon  acquiring  thus 
the  names  of  their  opponents,  messengers 
were  sent  to  Pittsbui-g,  where  the  writers 
of  the  offensive  letters  resided,  demanding 
the  banishment  of  the  offenders.  A 
prompt  obedience  to  these  demands  was 
unavoidable.  Another  plan  was,  for  seiz- 
ing the  United  States  military  stores  at 
Pittsburg,  and  using  them  in  carrying  on 
the  revolt.  In  order  to  accomplish  this,  a 
mammoth  gathering  of  the  anarchists  was 
appointed  to  be  held  on  Braddock's  field, 
August  first.  This  call  was  made  in  the 
form  usual  for  militia  musters,  and  all 
were  notified  to  come  armed  and  equipped. 
Seven  thousayid  men  anstvered  to  this  call, 
and  Bradford,  assuming  the  office  of  major- 
general,  reviewed  the  dense  mass  of  troops. 
The  main  purpose,  however,  of  this  assem- 
blage, namely,  to  march  upon  Pittsburg, 


take  possession  of  Fort  Pitt  and  the 
United  States  arsenal,  and  then  form  an 
independent  state,  or  sovereignty,  com- 
posed of  the  counties  west  of  the  Alleghany 
range,  had  been  divulged  to  few,  and, 
upon  farther  consultation,  it  was  found 
that  the  desperation  of  some  of  the  leaders 
failed  them  at  this  point,  and  the  project 
was  abandoned.  But  it  was  determined  to 
march  to  Pittsburg  at  any  rate, — a  march 
that  was  attended  b^^  a  wholesale  intimi- 
dation of  the  disaffected,  the  robbing  of 
houses,  and  the  burning  of  buildings.  But 
the  greatest  popular  demonstration  made 
of  the  law-breakers'  strength,  was  the 
meeting  at  Parkinson's  Ferry,  where  there 
assembled  representatives  of  the  whole 
vast  region  in  insurrection,  and,  in  the 
mad  enthusiasm  of  the  hour,  pledfjed  them- 
selves to  follow,  sixteen  thousand  strong, 
under  the  banner  of  Bradford,  in  resisting 
and  overturning  the  government.  There 
were  at  this  meeting  many  able  men,  but 
the  attendant  throng  was  of  a  far  different 
class. 

The  president  had  now,  for  three  j-ears, 
patiently  awaited  the  effect  of  conciliatory 
measures,  but  these  had  onl}'  continued  to 
render  the  opposition  more  desperate.  He 
therefore  had  only  to  choose  between  the 
alternative  of  permitting  the  jirostration 
of  the  government,  or  to  call  out  its  force 
in  support  of  the  laws.  It  was  not  in  the 
nature  of  Washington  to  allow  the  former. 

The  subject,  in  all  its  momentous  con- 
sequences, was  laid  by  President  Wash- 
ington before  the  cabinet,  for  final  action, 
and  General  jNIitHin,  the  governor  of  Penn- 
sylvania, was  on  this  occasion  called  into 
the  council.  Their  unanimous  desire  was 
to  avoid,  if  possible,  a  resort  to  arms  and 
bloodshed,  and  they  therefore  advised  that 
commissioners  should  be  sent  to  the  insur- 
gents to  warn  them  of  their  danger,  and  to 
offer  a  pardon  of  past  offenses,  on  condi- 
tion of  future  obedience  to  the  laws.  It 
was  also  advised  that  a  proclamation 
should  be  issued,  in  conformitj^  to  the  act 
of  congress,  commanding  the  insurgents 
to  disperse  by  a  given  da}'.  All  agreed 
that  a  crisis  had  arrived  which  was  testing 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLK  EVENTS. 


1G5 


the  strength  and  practicability  of  republi- 
can institutions. 

The  president  did  not  hesitate  to  do  his 
duty.  He  could  no  longer  see  the  laws 
prostrated,  and  the  authority  of  the  United 
States  defied,  without  exerting  the  means 
of  prevention.  He  resolved,  therefore,  to 
issue  the  proclamation,  which,  by  law,  was 
to  precede  the  employment  of  force.  Tliis 
proclamation,  issued  August  seventh,  con- 
tained a  brief  but  distinct  recapitulation 
of  the  measures  which  had  been  adopted 
by  the  government,  as  well  as  the  pro- 
ceedings on  the  part  of  the  insurgents,  and 
the  preparatory  steps  which  had  been 
taken  to  authorize  the  executive  to  employ 
coercion  —  and  Avhich,  though  with  the 
deepest  regret,  he  had  determined  to  do, 
in  the  interests  of  national  preservation 
and  social  order ;  and  commanding  all 
persons  being  in  the  position  of  insurgents, 
and  all  others  whom  it  might  concern,  on 
or  before  the  first  day  of  the  ensuing 
month  of  September,  to  disperse  and  re- 
tire peaceably  to  their  homes. 

On  the  same  day  of  this  proclamation, 
a  requisition  was  made  on  the  governors 
of  New  Jerse}-,  Pennsylvania,  Maryland, 
and  Virginia,  for  their  several  quotas  of 
militia  to  compose  an  army  of  twelve  or 
fifteen  thousand  men,  who  were  to  be  im- 
mediately organized  and  prepared  to  march 
at  a  minute's  warning. 

While  the  necessary  steps  were  being 
talvcn  to  bring  this  force  into  the  field,  a 
last  attempt  was  made  to  render  its  em- 
ployment unnecessary.  To  this  end,  the 
attorney-general  of  the  United  States,  who 
was  also  a  citizen  of  Pennsylvania,  to- 
gether with  Judge  Yates,  of  the  superior 
court,  and  Senator  Ross  of  Pennsylvania, 
who  was  particularly  popular  in  the  west- 
ern section,  were  deputed  by  the  govern- 
ment to  be  the  bearers  of  a  general 
amnesty  for  jjast  offenses,  on  the  sole  con- 
dition of  future  obedience  to  the  laws. 

It  having  been  deemed  advisable  that 
the  executive  of  the  state  in  which  the 
insurrection  was  rampant  should  act  in 
concert  with  that  of  the  United  States,  a 
proclamation,  similar  in  tone  and  spirit  to 


that  of  the  president,  was  now  issued  by 
Governor  Mifflin,  and  commissioners  were 
appointed  by  him  to  unite  with  those  of 
the  general  government. 

But  Bradford,  whose  sway  over  his  fol- 
lowers was  well  nigh  despotic,  inspiring 
them  with  slavish  terror,  laughed  at  the 
government  j)rochimation  and  measures, 
claimed  that  he  could  marshal  an  army 
that  would  scatter  the  federal  force  to  the 
four  winds,  and,  under  the  banner  of 
"  Liberty  and  No  Excise — No  Asi/lum  for 
Cowards  and  Traitors/"  the  insurgent 
spirit  waxed  fiercer  and  more  bold.  At- 
tempts were  made  to  embark  the  adjacent 
counties  of  Virginia  in  tlieir  cause,  and 
their  violence  was  extended  to  JNIorgan- 
town,  at  which  place  an  inspector  resided, 
who  only  saved  himself  by  ffight,  and  pro- 
tected his  property  by  advertising,  on  his 
own  door,  that  he  had  resigned  his  office. 
Similar  excursions  were  made  into  the 
eastern  counties  of  Pennsylvania. 

The  great  convention  of  malcontents  at 
Parkinson's  Ferry  had,  under  the  advice 
of  IJrackenridge,  Marshall,  Gallatin,  and 
some  others,  appointed  a  committee  of 
safety,  of  sixty  members,  who  chose  fifteen 
of  their  body  to  confer  with  the  commis- 
sioners of  the  United  States,  and  of  Penn- 
s^'lvania.  This  committee  was  to  receive 
proposals,  but  neither  offer  nor  accept 
terms  of  settlement. 

In  their  report  of  the  conference  thus 
held,  the  committee  expressed  themselves 
in  favor  of  accejiting  the  accommodation 
offered  by  the  government.  But,  though 
many  of  the  insurgents,  trembling  at  the 
extent  of  the  conflagration  they  had  kin- 
dled, were  now  disposed  to  yield,  a  vast 
number  still  continued,  under  Bradford's 
fiery  lead,  to  go  on  in  their  revolutionary 
violence,  and  so  the  last  door  to  reconcilia- 
tion was  shut.  Meanwhile,  the  president's 
call  for  troops  was  being  responded  to  in 
overwhelming  numbers,  under  the  patriotic 
lead  of  Governor  jMifflin. 

The  president  issued  a  second  proclama- 
tion, September  25,  describing  in  terms  of 
great  energy  the  obstinate  and  perverse 
spirit  with  which  the  government's  lenient 


166 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


propositions  had  been  received,  and  de- 
claring liis  fixed  determination,  in  virtue 
of  the  higli  and  imperative  duty  imposed 
upon  liim  by  the  constitution  to  "  take  care 
that  the  laws  be  faithfulbj  executed,''^  to 
reduce  the  refractor^'^  to  obedience. 

On  every  side,  the  signals  of  war  were 
now  displayed !  The  troops  of  Xew  Jersey 
and  Pennsylvania  were  directed  to  ren- 
dezvous at  Bedford,  and  those  of  Maryland 
and  Virginia  at  Cumberland,  on  the  Poto- 
mac. The  command  of  the  expedition  Avas 
given  to  General  Henry  Lee,  of  Virginia; 
and  the  governors  of  New  Jersey  and 
Pennsylvania  commanded,  under  him,  the 
militia  of  their  respective  states.  The 
president,  in  person,  pushed  on  for  Phila- 
d'-'lphia,  through  deep  roads  and  a  three 
days'  drenching  rain,  A'isiting,  as  com- 
mander-in-chief, each  of  the  two  grand 
divisions  into  v/hich  he  liad  divided  the 
forces.  He  had  intended  to  continue  to 
lead  the  army  solely  himself;  but,  ascer- 
taining that  this  would  not  be  called  for, 
and  feeling  confident  that  the  force  em- 
ployed must  break  down  all  resistance,  he 
left  General  Hamilton,  as  his  deputy, 
giving    directions   to   Lee   to   march   each 


division  across  the  Alleghany  mountains, 
meet  on  the  other  side,  and  act  against  the 
insurgents  as  circumstances  might  require. 
But,  as  had  been  sagaciously  foreseen,  the 


GEN.  HENKY   LEE. 


greatness  of  the  force  prevented  the  effu- 
sion of  blood.  The  rebellious  hordes  fled 
before  such  a  demonstration,  the  clemency 
of  the  government  was  solicited,  and  sub- 
mission to  every  law  freely  promised. 
Some  of  the  more  axW  disposed  were  ar- 
rested and  tried,  but  pardon  was  ultimately 
extended  to  all.  Bradford  escaped  to 
Spanish  territory.  And  thus,  in  the 
words  of  AVashington,  was  decided  "  the 
contest,  whether  a  small  proportion  of  the 
United  States  shall  dictate  to  the  Avhole 
Union." 


XY. 

FOUNDING  AND    ESTABLISHMENT   OF   THE   NATIONAL 

CAPITAL.— 1709. 


Bitter  Sectional  Contest  in  Deciding  the  Location. — First  "Compromise"  in  Congress  between  the 
Nortii  and  the  Soutii.— Final  Kemoval  of  the  Government  and  its  Archives  to  Washington  — Official 
Ohservance  of  the  Event.— Magnificent  Site  and  Plan  of  tiie  City.— Splendor  of  its  Public  Build- 
ings.—Congress  First  Sits  in  Philadelphia.— Need  of  a  Permanent  Capital  — National  Dignity  Involved. 
—  Violent  Agitation  of  the  Subject.— Philadelphia  and  New  York  Proposed. — They  are  Ohjected  toby 
the  South —Northern  Disunion  Threats —Schemes  of  Conciliation. — How  the  Question  was  Settled. 
— Sweetening  Two  Bitter  Pills.— Jefferson's  Graphic  Account.— General  Washington's  Preference.— 
His  Site  on  the  Potomac  Adopted. — Some  Rather  Personal  Anecdotes. — Work  of  Laying  Out  the  City. 
— Its  Original  Aspect  and  Condition  — Early  Trials  of  the  President's  Wite. — Construction  of  the  Cap- 
itol.—Its  Corner-Stone  Laid  by  Washington. — Congress  in  its  New  Halls. — Growth  of  the  Metropolis. 
— The  New  Corner-Stone  of  1851. 


"  Where  poorcd  the  hut  the  pnlace  tnwers  ; 
Where  Bkimined  tie  hark  the  W!l^-^hiI)  lowera  ; 
Joy  ;ruilv  ciiniN  \vhere  whs  i>ile?K'e  riif'e  ; 
Aud  cultured  thou^aada  thruui;  the  buliludc. 


.EXT  in  importance  to  the  founding  of  a  free  and  independent 
nationality,  and  the  inauguration  of  a  supreme  legishitive  and 
executive  government,  was  the  act  of  establishing  a  permanent 
capital, —  one  on  a  scale,  and  of  a  character,  commensurate  with 
the  dignity  and  prospects  of  the  new  republic.  Indeed,  from  as  early  a  period  as  June, 
1783,  when  congress  was  virtually  driven  from  its  halls  in  Philadelphia  by  the  mutiny 
of  a  part  of  the  Pennsylvania  line,  the  necessity  was  very  evident  of  some  place  being 
fixed  tijjon  where  the  government  of  the  Union  might  at  least  be  secure  from  violence 
and  insult.  As  this  remarkable  and  untoward  circumstance  was,  perhaps,  one  of  the 
most  notable  in  its  bearing  upon  subsequent  events,  in  this  connection,  it  may  be  worth 
while  to  recite  some  of  its  chief  features.  While  the  patriot  army,  encamped  under 
'the  eye  of  Washington,  bore  their  hardships  and  privations  without  flinching,  and,  at 
the  close  of  the  struggle,  in  1783,  returned  quietly,  though  poor  and  unpaid,  to  their 
homes,  some  of  the  newly-recruited  soldiers  of  Pennsylvania,  stationed  at  Lancaster, 
suddenly  mutinied  and  set  off  in  a  body  for  Philadelphia,  to  demand  redress  of  fancied 
grievances  from  the  legislature  of  the  state.  Arriving  at  that  cit3',  they  were  joined 
by  a  force  from  the  barracks,  and  proceeded  on  the  second  of  June  with  beat  of  drum 
and  fixed  bayonets  to  the  state  house,  where  congress  and  the  supreme  executive  council 
of  Pennsylvania  were  both  holding  their  sessions.  After  placing  sentinels  at  all  the 
doors,  they  sent  in  a  written  message,  threatening  the  president  and  the  council  of  the 
state  to  let  loose  an  enraged  soldiery  upon  them,  if  their  demands  were  not  acceded  to 
in  twenty  minutes.     Although  the  resentments  of  this  banditti  were  not  directed  par- 


168 


OUR  FIEST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


ticiilai-ly  against  congress,  the  government 
of  the  Union  -was  grossly  insulted,  and 
those  who  administered  it  were  blockaded 
for  several  hours  in  the  discharge  of  their 
duties,  by  an  armed  band.  Fearing  lest 
the  authorities  of  Pennsylvania  might  not 
be  able  to  furnish  adequate  protection,  it 
adjourned  to  meet  within  a  few  days  at 
Princeton, — sending  information,  in  the 
meantime,  to  "Washington,  of  this  outbreak. 
The  latter  immediately  sent  fifteen  hun- 
dred men  under  General  Howe  to  suppress 
the  mutiny ;  but  before  the  detachment 
could  reach  Philadelphia,  the  mutiny  was 
in  a  great  degree  subdued,  and  fortunately 
without  bloodshed. 

When  once  the  subject  of  definitely 
fixing  upon  a  location  for  the  seat  of  gov- 
ernment was  before  congress  and  the 
people,  the  question  seemed  to  overshadow 
all  otliers.  Being  in  session  at  Princeton, 
under  the  circumstances  above  narrated,  it 
was  resolved  by  congress  that  a  building 
for  the  national  legislature  be  erected  near 
the  Falls  of  the  Delaware. 

The  commissioners  to  la}''  out  a  town  on 
the  Delaware  reported  their  proceedings 
to  congress,  but  no  furtlier  steps  were 
taken  to  carry  the  resolution  into  effect. 
Some  were  very  strenuous  for  New  York, 
others  proposed  some  convenient  place  on 
the  banks  of  the  Susquehanna.  To  the 
latter  ])roposition,  southern  membei'S, 
among  whom  was  Mr.  Madison,  were  un- 
alterably opposed.  All  admitted  tlie  im- 
portance of  the  step  to  be  taken,  involving, 
perhaps,  the  perpetuity  of  the  government 
itself. 

At  length,  a  compact  respecting  the 
temporar}^  and  permanent  seat  of  govern- 
ment was  entered  into  between  the  friends 
of  Philadelphia,  and  the  Potomac,  whereby 
it  was  stipulated  that  congress  should 
hold  its  sessions  in  Pliiladelphia,  for  ten 
years,  during  which  time,  buildings  for 
the  accommodation  of  the  government 
should  be  erected  at  some  place,  to  be  se- 
lected,  on  the  Potomac,  and  which  latter 
should  become,  on  the  expiration  of  the 
ten  years,  the  permanent  capital  of  the 
nation.     This  compromise  having  united 


the  representatives  of  Pennsj'lvania  and 
Delaware  with  the  friends  of  the  Potomac, 
in  favor  both  of  the  temporary  and  perma- 
nent locality  which  had  been  mutuall}' 
agreed  on  between  them,  a  majority  was 
thus  finally  secured  in  favor  of  the  project, 
and  a  bill  which  was  brought  into  the 
senate  in  conformity  with  this  arrange- 
ment, passed  both  houses  by  small  major- 
ities, though,  according  to  Judge  Marshall, 
these  majorities  would  have  been  larger, 
if  necessary. 

But,  as  the  final  compromise  briefly  re- 
corded above  shows,  the  die  xoas  cast,  at 
last,  to  mutual  satisfaction.  How  this  was 
brought  about,  Jefferson's  graphic,  and, 
it  may  be,  highly-colored  portraiture  gf  the 
closing  hour  and  result  of  the  struggle  will 
give  some  idea:  'The  eastern  members 
particularly,  who,  with  Smith  from  South 
Cai'olina,  were  the  principal  gamblers  in 
these  scenes,  threatened  secession  and  dis- 
solution. Hamilton  was  in  despair.  As 
I  was  going  to  the  president's,  one  day,  I 
met  him  in  the  street.  He  walked  me 
backwards  and  forwards  before  the  presi- 
dent's door  for  half  an  hour.  He  painted 
patheticall}'  the  temper  into  which  the 
legislature  had  been  wrought ;  the  disgust 
of  tliose  who  were  called  the  creditor 
states  ;  the  danger  of  the  secession  of  their 
members,  andjthe  separation  of  the  states. 
He  observed  that  the  members  of  the  ad- 
ministration ought  to  act  in  concert ;  that 
though  this  question  was  not  of  my  de- 
partment, yet  a  common  dut}'  should  make 
it  a  common  concern ;  that  the  president 
was  the  center  on  which  all  administration 
questions  ultimately  rested,  and  that  all  of 
us  should  rally  around  him,  and  support, 
with  joint  efforts,  measures  approved  by 
him ;  and  that  the  question  having  been 
lost  by  a  small  majority'  only,  it  was  prob- 
able that  an  appeal  from  me  to  the  judg- 
ment and  discretion  of  some  of  my  friends, 
might  effect  a  change  in  the  vote,  and  the 
machine  of  government,  now  suspended, 
might  be  again  set  into  motion.  I  told  him 
that  I  was  reall}'  a  stranger  to  the  whole 
subject ;  that  not  having  yet  informed  my- 
self of  the  system  of  finance  adopted,  1 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


icy 


know  not  how  far  this  was  a  necessary  se- 
(luoiK-e ;  tliat  undoubti'dl}',  if  its  rejection 
en(Uingerecl  a  dissolution  of  our  Union  at 
tliis  incipient  stage,  I  should  deem  that 
tlie  most  unfortunate  of  all  consequences, 
to  avert  which  all  partial  and  temporary 
evils  should  be  yielded.  I  proposed  to 
him,  however,  to  dine  with  me  the  next 
day,  and  I  would  invite  another  friend  or 
two,  bring  them  into  conference  togetlier, 
and  I  thought  it  impossible  that  reasona- 
ble men,  consulting  together  coolly,  could 
fail,  by  some  mutual  sacrifices  of  opinion, 
to  form  a  compromise  which  was  to  save 
the  Union.  The  discussion  took  place.  I 
could  take  no  part  in  it  but  an  exhortatory 
one,  because  I  was  a  stranger  to  the  cir- 
cumstances which  should  govern  it.  But 
it  was  finally  agreed,  that  whatever  im- 
portance had  been  attached  to  the  rejection 
of  tliis  proposition,  the  preservation  of  the 
Union  and  of  concord  among  the  states, 
was  more  important,  and  that,  therefore, 
it  would  be  better  that  the  vote  of  rejec- 
tion should  be  rescinded,  to  effect  which 
some  members  should  change  their  votes. 
But  it  was  observed  that  this  pill  would  be 
peculiarly  hitter  to  the  southern  states, 
and  that  some  concomitant  measure  should 
be  adopted  to  sweeten  it  a  little  to  them. 
There  had  before  been  projects  to  fix  the 
seat  of  government  either  <it  Philadelphia, 
or  at  Georgetown  on  the  Potomac ;  and  it 
was  thought  that,  by  giving  it  to  Phila- 
delphia for  ten  years,  and  to  Georgetown 
permanently  afterwards,  this  might,  as  an 
anodyne,  calm  in  some  degree  the  ferment 
which  might  be  excited  by  the  other  meas- 
ure alone.  So  two  of  the  Potomac  mem- 
bers (White  and  Lee,  but  White  with  a 
revulsion  of  stomach  almost  convulsive) 
agreed  to  change  their  votes,  and  Hamilton 
undertook  to  carry  the  other  point.  In 
doing  this,  the  influence  he  had  established 
over  the  eastern  members,  with  the  agency 
of  Robert  Morris  with  those  of  the  middle 
states,  effected  his  side  of  the  engagement.' 
Thus  it  was  that  the  assumption-bill  was 
passed,  and  thus  it  was  that  the  far  more 
important  measure  was  enacted,  which 
provided — 


"  That  a  district  of  territory  on  the 
river  Potomac,  at  some  place  Ijetween  the 
mouths  of  the  eastern  branch  and  the 
Connogocheague,  be,  and  the  same  is 
hereby,  accepted,  for  the  jjermanent  seat 
of  the  government  of  the  United  States." 
In  enduring  honor  of  the  father  of  his 
countr}',  the  name  given  to  the  projected 
city  was  Washixgtox. 

From  the  beginning.  General  Washing- 
ton advocated  the  site  wliich  was  finally 
fixed  upon,  and  its  establishment  there 
was  due  in  a  large  measure  to  liis  counsels 
and  influence.  It  is  related,  though  some- 
what questionable,  that  during  the  hot  and 
angry  discussion  on  the  subject,  in  con- 
gress, pending  the  determination  of  a 
locality,  a  person  who  was  in  company 
with  Washington  remarked,  one  da^-, — 

"  I  know  very  well  where  the  federal 
cit}'  ought  to  be." 

"Where  then  would  you  put  it,  sir?" 
Avas  the  serene  inquiry  of  Washington. 

"  It  ought  to  be  located  in  Philadelphia," 
was  the  reply. 

"  W^hy  are  you  sure  it  should  be  there  ?  " 

"  For  the  most  satisfactory  of  all  rea- 
sons," was  the  sinister  answer  ;  ''  because 
nearly  the  whole  of  my  property  lies  there 
and  in  the  neighborhood." 

In  stern  silence  did  Washington  fasten 
his  eye  upon  the  man  who  thus  dared  the 
insolent  insinuation  that  the  president 
favored  the  location  of  the  capital  in  its 
present  site  because  it  was  near  his  Mount 
Vernon  estates ;  and  the  offender  soon 
vanished  out  of  sight. 

Another  little  anecdote  in  this  connec- 
tion will  be  here  given,  as  showing  that 
"  no  sea  is  free  from  ripples."  It  was  for 
many  years  traditional  in  the  federal  cai)i- 
tal,  that  one  man  was  found  not  awed  by 
the  presence  of  the  great  founder  of  that 
city.  "\^niile  the  president  was  procuring 
the  ground  which  was  to  be  the  seat  of 
government,  he  had  but  little  difficulty  in 
obtaining  the  necessary  releases,  except  in 
one  instance.  Mr.  James  Byrnes  was  tlie 
owner  of  a  lot  or  tract  which  it  was  advis- 
able should  be  included  in  tlie  plan.  The 
creneral  had  various  conferences  with  M/. 


170 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


Byrnes,  avIio  was  especially  obstinate,  and, 
liiglily  prizing,  as  he  did,  the  tract  in  ques- 
tion, flatly  resisted  all  the  reasonings  and 
persuasions  of  the  great  man.  Unused  to 
opposition,  Washington  at  last  turned 
upon  him  and  said,  as  only  he  could  say 

it  — 

"Mr.  James  Byrnes!  what  would  3'our 
land  have  been  worth  if  I  had  not  placed 
this  city  on  the  Potomac  ?  " 

Byrnes  was  not  at  all  crushed  by  this 
peculiar  flanking  argument  on  the  part  of 
the  general;  but,  undismayed,  coolly 
turned  to  him  and  said, — 

"George  Washington,  what  would  you 
have  been  worth  if  you  had  not  married 
the  widow  Custis  ?  " 

It  will  not  do  to  judge  of  the  nation's 
metropolis  at  that  day  by  what  it  is  now. 
At  that  time  it  was  desolate  in  the  ex- 
treme, with  its  long  unimproved  avenues 
and  streets,  its  deep  morasses,  and  its  vast 
area  covered  with  trees  instead  of  houses. 
Mrs.  Adams,  the  wife  of  President  John 
Adams,  who  first  occupied  the  Wliite 
House,  in  writing  to  a  friend  regarding 
the  city  and  the  presidential  mansion  at 
that  period,  says:  'In  the  city  are  build- 
ings enough,  if  they  were  compact  and 
finished,  to  accommodate  congress  and 
those  attached  to  it,  but  as  they  are,  I  see 
no  great  comfort  in  them.  The  river, 
which  runs  up  to  Alexandria,  is  in  full 
view  of  my  window,  and  I  can  see  the 
vessels  as  they  pass  and  re-pass.  The 
house  is  upon  a  grand  and  superb  scale, 
requiring  about  thirty  servants  to  attend 
and  keep  the  apartments  in  proper  order, 
and  perform  the  ordinary  business  of  the 
house  and  stables ;  an  establishment  very 
well  pro[>ortioned  to  the  president's  salary. 
The  lighting  the  apartments,  from  the 
kitchen  to  the  parlors  and  chambers,  is  a 
t.ix  indeed;  and  the  fires  we  are  obliged 
to  keep,  to  secure  us  from  daily  agues,  is 
another  very  cheering  comfort.  To  assist 
us  in  this  great  castle,  and  render  less  at- 
tendance necessar}',  bells  are  wholly  want- 
ing, not  one  being  hung  through  the 
whole  house,  and  promises  are  all  we  can 
obtain.     This  is  so  great  an  inconvenience 


that  I  know  not  what  to  do,  or  how  to  do. 
If  they  will  put  me  up  some  bells,  and  let 
me  have  wood  enough  to  keep  fires,  I  de- 
sign to  be  pleased.  I  could  content  my- 
self anywhere  tliree  months,  but  sur- 
rounded by  forests,  can  3'ou  believe  that 
wood  is  not  to  be  had,  because  people  can 
not  be  found  to  cut  and  cart  it  ?  Briesler 
entered  into  a  contract  with  a  man  to 
supply  him  with  wood.  A  small  part,  a 
few  cords  only,  has  he  been  able  to  get. 
Most  of  that  was  expended  to  dry  the  walls 
of  the  house  before  we  came  in,  and  yes- 
terday the  man  told  him  it  was  impossible 
for  him  to  procure  it  to  be  cut  and  carted. 
He  has  had  recourse  to  coals;  but  we  can 
not  get  grates  made  and  set.  We  have 
indeed  come  into  a  new  country?  These 
and  kindred  inconveniences  were  naturally 
incident  to  the  new  order  of  tilings;  they 
were  only  temporary'. 

As  has  already  appeared,  it  was  reserved 
to  Washington's  immediate  successor  in 
the  presidential  office,  to  be  the  first  occu- 
pant of  the  executive  mansion.  Neverthe- 
less, the  superintending  mind  and  hand  of 
Washington  are  broadly  identified  with 
the  conception  not  only  of  that  elegant 
building,  but  of  the  capitol  and  other  gov- 
ernment structures.  On  the  fifteenth  day 
of  April,  1791,  the  Hon.  Daniel  Carroll 
and  Dr.  David  Stewart  sujierintended  the 
fixing  of  the  first  corner-stone  of  the  Dis- 
trict of  Columbia,  at  Jones's  Point,  near 
Alexandria;  it  was  laid  with  all  the  usual 
masonic  ceremonies,  an  address  being  also 
delivered  on  the  occasion  by  Rev.  James 
Muir.  "  May  this  stone,"  said  the  orator, 
"  long  commemorate  the  goodness  of  God 
in  those  uncommon  events  which  have 
given  America  a  name  among  nations. 
Under  this  stone  may  jealous\'  and  selfish- 
ness be  forever  buried.  From  this  stone 
may  a  superstructure  arise  whose  glory, 
whose  magnificence,  whose  stability,  shall 
astonish  the  world."  The  south-east 
corner-stone  of  the  capitol  was  laid  by 
President  Washington,  September  eight- 
eenth, 1793,  with  appropriate  services, 
principal  among  whicli  was  the  act  of  the 
commissioners,   in   their    official    cajiacity, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


171 


WASIirXGTOX,  D.  C,  IN  1876. 


when  they  delivered  to  President  Wash- 
ington, who  deposited  it  in  the  stone,  a 
silver  plate,  inscribed  as  follows  : — 

"  This  south-east  corner-stone  of  the 
Capitol  of  the  United  States  of  America, 
in  the  city  of  Washington,  was  laid  on  the 
18th  day  of  September,  1793,  in  the  eight- 
eenth year  of  American  Independence,  in 
the  first  year  of  the  second  term  of  the 
presidency  of  George  Washington,  whose 
virtues  in  the  civil  administration  of  his 
country  have  been  as  conspicuous  and 
beneficial  as  his  military  valor  and  pru- 
dence have  been  useful  in  establishing  her 
liberties,  and  in  the  j^ear  of  Masonry  5793, 
by  the  President  of  the  United  States,  in 
concert  with  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Mary- 
land, several  lodges  under  its  jurisdiction, 
and  Lodge  No.  22  from  Alexandria,  Vir- 
ginia." 

In  the  summer  of  1800,  the  archives  of 
the  government  were  removed  from  Phila- 
delphia to  AVashington,  and,  the  ensuing 
November,  the  north  wing  of  the  capitol 
was  ready  for  the  first  sitting  of  congress 
in    the    new    metropolis.      John     Cotton 


Smith,  a  distinguished  member  of  this  con- 
gress from  Connecticut,  speaking  of  the 
new  city  on  his  arrival  there,  says:  *I 
can  not  sufficiently  express  my  admiration 
of  its  local  position.' 

It  was  at  this  session  that  formal  recog^ 
nition  was  made  of  the  great  national 
event  of  the  founding  and  establishment 
of  the  national  capital,  by  mutual  congrat- 
ulafory  addresses  between  the  chief  mag- 
istrate of  the  republic  on  the  one  part,  and 
the  senate  and  house  of  representatives  on 
the  other. 

A  more  beautiful  site  for  a  large  city 
could  scarcely  have  been  selected.  On  a 
level  plain  some  three  miles  in  length,  and 
varying  from  a  quarter  to  two  miles  wide, 
and  extending  from  the  banks  of  the 
Potomac  to  a  range  of  hills  bounding 
the  plain  on  the  east,  the  new  city  was 
laid  out.  The  idea  of  General  Washington 
was  that  the  capitol  should  be  the  center 
of  the  cit}',  and  that  avenues  should  radi- 
ate from  it  at  equi-distaht  points.  To 
complete  his  plan,  the  metropolis  should 
have  a  million  of  inhabitants,  instead  of 


172 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


its  present  very  moderate  fraction  of  that 
number.  Tliough  not  a  seven-hilled  city, 
Washington  has,  as  well  as  Rome,  its  Ca- 
pitoline  Hill,  commanding  views  scarcely 


NATIONAL  CAPITOL  IN  1876. 

less  striking  than  those  of  the  Eternal 
City.  The  general  altitude  of  the  city- 
plot  is  forty  feet  above  the  river,  but  this 
is  diversified  by  irregular  elevations,  which 
serve  to  give  variety  and  commanding 
sites  for  the  j^ublic  buildings.  The  plot  is 
slightly  amphitheatrical,  the  president's 
house  on  the  west  standing  on  one  of 
the  sides,  and  the  capitol  on  the  other, 
while  the  space  between  verges  towards  a 
point  near  the  river.  The  j^resident's 
house  and  the  capitol  stand  centrally  with 
regard  to  the  wliole,  though  situated  at 
the  distance  of  one  mile  from  each  other, 
the  former  forty-four  feet  above  the  Poto- 
mac, and  the  latter  seventy-two  feet.  All 
the  puljlic  buildings  are  on  a  scale  of  mag- 
nificence worthy  of  a  great  nation  ;  and 
the  munificence  of  congress  in  this  respect, 
as  well  as  in  regard  to  all  that  pertains  to 
the  city,  as  the  seat  of  government  of  the 
United  States,  is  evident  on  every  side. 
This  is  as  it  should  be,  and  betokens  the 
destined  splendor,  in  point  of  architecture, 
avenues  and  parks,  institutions  of  art, 
science  and  education,  of  the  federal  cap- 
ital. 

Starting  from  the  capitol,  the  streets 
run  from  north  to  south  and  from  east  to 
west,  their  width  varying  from  ninety  to 
one  hundred  and  ten  feet.  There  are  be- 
side   twenty    avenues,    named     after    the 


older  states  of  the  Union,  which  cross  the 
streets  at  various  angles  and  connect  the 
most  important  points  of  the  cit}',  forming 
at  their  intersection  with  the  streets  and 
with  each  other  numerous  open 
spaces.  These  grand  avenues  are 
from  one  hundred  and  thirty  to 
one  hundred  and  sixty  feet  uni- 
form width ;  the  principal  of  these 
is  called  in  honor  of  the  state  of 
Pennsylvania,  and  extends  from 
Georgetown  to  the  Anacostia,  a 
distance  of  four  miles.  It  forms 
the  main  avenue  of  communication 
between  the  capitol  and  the  presi- 
dent's house  and  the  chief  offices 
of  government.  The  capitol  com- 
mands Maryland,  Delaware,  New- 
Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  Maine,  and 
Missouri  avenues ;  the  president's  house, 
Pennsylvania,  New  York,  Vermont,  and 
Connecticut  avenues.  The  effect  of  this 
arrangement,  taken  in  connection  with 
the  natural  advantages  of  the  site,  is 
exceedingly  fine — one  of  the  finest  in 
the  world,  for  a  city.  From  the  hill,  in 
especial,  on  which  stands  the  capitol,  the 


SVMBOLIC   eXATCE   OF  AMERICA    8UKMUUNT1NO 
THE   U.   S.  CAPITOL. 

most  noble  view  presents  itself  to  the  eye 
of  the  beholder  that  the  imagination  can 
conceive.     On   the  fourth  of  Jul}',    1851, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


173 


the  corner-stone  of  that  niaf^jiiificciit  ex- 
tension of  the  Capitol  which  lias  rendered 
it  the  most  superb  structure  of  its  kind  in 
the  world,  was  laid  with  splendid  ceremo- 
nial, including  a  commemorative  oration 
liy  President  Fillmore,  assisted  by  Daniel 
AVebster,  secretary  of  state.  In  the  stone 
was  also  deposited  a  record  of  the  event, 
with  the  following  impressive  statement 
and  invocation  : — 

"  If,  therefore,  it  shall  be  hereafter  the 
will  of  God  that  this  structure  shall  fall 
from  its  base,  that  its  foundation  be  uj)- 
turned,  and  this  deposit  brought  to  the 
eyes  of  men,  be  it  then  known  that  on 
tliis  day  the  union  of  the  United  States  of 
America  stands  firm,  that  their  Constitu- 


tion still  exists  unimpaired  and  with  all 
its  original  usefulness  and  glor}-,  growing 
every  day  stronger  and  stronger  in  the 
affections  of  the  great  body  of  the  Amer- 
ican people,  and  attracting  more  and  more 
the  admiration  of  the  world.  And  all 
here  assembled,  whether  belonging  to 
public  life  or  to  private  life,  with  hearts 
devoutly  thankful  to  Almighty  God  for 
the  preservation  of  the  liberty  and  happi- 
ness of  the  country,  unite  in  sincere  and 
fervent  prayer  that  this  de[)osit,  and  the 
walls  and  arches,  tlie  domes  and  towers, 
the  columns  and  entablatures,  now  to 
be  erected  over  it,  may  endure  forever ! 
God    Save     the    Uxited     States    of 

A_MEKICA  ! " 


XVI. 

DEATH  OF  GEORGE  WASHINGTON.— 1799. 


Mis  Sudden  and  Brief  Illness,  Last  Hours,  and  Hying  Words — Fortitude  and  Serenity  Through  all 
His  Sufferings. — He  Calmly  Announces  His  Approaching  Dissolution  Without  a  Murmur — The 
Whole  World  Does  Honor,  by  Eulogy  and  Lamentations,  to  His  Exalted  Worth  and  Immortal  Fame. 
— He  Anticipated  an  Flarly  Death. — His  Invariably  Good  Health — Exposure  in  a  Snow-Storni  — 
Takes  a  Fatal  Cold. —  Last  Letter  Written  by  His  Hand — Reads  the  Papers  in  the  Evening. — Char- 
acteristic Reply  to  Mis  Wife. — Passes  a  Restless  Night — Alarming  Condition  the  Next  Day. — Medi- 
cal Treatment  of  no  Avail. — Calls  for  His  Two  Wills,  Burns  One. — Affecting  Scene  at  His  Bedside. 

—Last  Words,  "'Tis  Well !  "—Only  One  Day's  Sickness. 
— Acute  Laryngitis  His  Disease. — Burial  in  the  Old  Family 
Vault — Tidings  of  His  Death  — Tributes  from  Peoples  and 
Kings  — A  Man  Without  a  Parallel  — Last  Page  in  His 
Journal. — Re  entombment  in  ISoT — Appearance  of  His 
Remains. 


•' Posteritv  will  tilk  of  Wn«liin'.'tnn  with    rrvorpnce.  Ds  the  founder  of  a  p'-eaf 
cni|iirc.  when  my  name  shall  be  lost  in  the  vortex  of  icvolution.'-NArOLEOK  lio- 

KAPAKTE. 


^9m  ASHINGTON  is  dead ! "  were  the  appalling  words  which,  with  the 
fading  out  of  tlie  eighteenth  century,  brought  home  to  every  American  heart  the  solemn 
lesson  of  the  flight  of  time,  and  that  "  all  men  are  mortal."  Totally  unprepared  as 
was  his  idolizing  country  for  such  an  event, — no  intelligence  of  the  slightest  illness  of 
the  great  chieftain  having  preceded  the  bald  announcement  of  his  death  and  burial, — 
tlie  tidings  moved  the  nation's  heart  to  profound  amazement  and  sorrow,  and  deeji  an- 
swered unto  deep,  in  the  universal  wail  of  a  bereaved  and  stricken  republic.  If  a 
nation's  prayers  could  have  prevailed,  Washington — Columbia's  most  honored,  venerated, 
and  renowned  son, — would  have  been  immortal  on  earth.  But  the  ordinance  of  divine 
wi.sdom  is,  that  the  great  boon  of  immortality  shall  be  attained  by  man  only  through 
the  portals  of  the  grave,  and  to  this  decree  the  illustrious  and  the  humble  are  alike  sub- 
ject. Thus  it  was  that  AVashington,  the  great  Christian  warrior  and  statesman — the 
greatest  of  good  men  and  the  best  of  great  men — paid  the  debt  of  nature  when  he  had 
scarcely  reached  the  allotted  period  of  three-score  j'ears  and  ten. 

The  last  end  of  so  illustrious  a  personage  as  Washington,  is  fraught  with  an  interest 
so  profound  and  memorable,  as  never  to  lose  its  freshness  and  value  to  successive 
generations.  It  appeared  to  be  the  will  of  heaven  that,  so  soon  as  the  circum- 
stances of  his  country  enabled  it  to  dispense  Avith  the  services  of  the  man  who,  above 
all  others,  was  its  founder  and  leading  head,  he  should  be  summoned  away  from 
the  scenes  of  earth.  That  he  was  one  who  was  accustomed  to  consider  the  brevity  of 
life  and  the  v.ncertainty  of  human  affairs,  is  evident  from  the  tenor  of  his  conduct 
and  conversation,  and  from  occasional  passages  in  his  correspondence.  Thus,  to  the 
Hon.  James  M'Henry,  secretary  of  war,  he  wrote,  but  a  few  months  prior  to  his 
decease :     "  Mj-^  greatest  anxiety  is  to  have  all  these  concerns  in  such  a  clear  and  distinct 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


175 


form,  that  no  reproach  may  attach  itself  to 
me  when  I  liave  taken  my  departure  for 
the  land  of  spirits."  He  had  also  been 
making  arrangements,  just  before  the  at- 
tack of  illness  which  terminated  in  his 
death,  for  the  construction  of  an  improved 
family  tomb,  and  in  speaking  of  his  plans 
to  a  relative  at  his  side,  he  remarked, 
•'  This  change,  I  shall  make  the  first  of  all, 
for  I  may  require  it  before  the  rest."  He 
had  also  been  heard  to  say,  "  I  am  of  a 
short-lived  family,  and  cannot  expect  to 
remain  very  long  upon  the  earth." 

The  month  of  December,  1799,  found 
him  in  the  enjoyment  of  excellent  health. 
Indeed,  Major  Lewis,  his  nephew,  writing 
of  him  as  he  appeared  to  himself  and  a 
friend  at  that  time,  says,  "  The  clear  and 
healthy  flush  on  his  cheek  and  his 
sprightly  manner  brought  the  remark  from 
both  of  us,  that  we  had  never  seen  the 
general  look  so  well."  On  the  tenth  of 
December,  he  completed  the  draught  of  an 
elaborate  plan  for  the  management  of  his 
lands,  laying  down  the  rotation  of  the 
crops  for  a  succession  of  years  in  advance. 
The  morning  of  that  day  was  clear  and 
calm,  but  the  afternoon  was  lowering. 
The  next  day,  the  eleventh,  was  bluster- 
ing and  rainy  ;  and  at  night,  as  Washing- 
ton recorded  in  his  diary,  "  there  was  a 
large  circle  round  the  moon."  The  morn- 
ing of  the  twelfth  was  overcast.  Wash- 
ington's last  letter  was  written  that 
morning — it  was  to  Hamilton,  and  princi- 
pally on  the  subject  of  a  military  academy. 
The  events  of  that  day,  and  of  the  two 
days  following,  are  most  minutely  narrated 
by  an  eye-witness — Mr.  Tobias  Lear, — 
who  was  Washington's  private  secretary 
as  well  as  valued  friend ;  and  with  Mr. 
Lear's  statement,  are  incorporated  some 
facts  from  the  pen  of  Washington's  favor- 
ite kinsman,  Mr.  Custis  : — 

On  Thursday,  December  twelfth,  the 
general  rode  out  to  his  farms  about  ten 
o'clock,  and  did  not  return  home  till  past 
three.  Soon  after  he  went  out,  the  weather 
became  very  bad,  rain,  hail,  snow  falling 
alternately,  with  a  cold  wind.  When  he 
came  in,  I  carried  some  letters  to  him  to 


frank,  intending  to  send  them  to  the  post- 
office  in  the  evening.  He  franked  tlie 
letters,  but  said  the  weather  was  too  bad 
to  send  a  servant  to  the  office  that  even- 
ing. I  observed  to  him,  that  I  was  afraid 
he  had  got  wet.  He  said,  No,  his  great 
coat  had  kept  him  dry.  But  his  neck  ap- 
peared to  be  wet,  and  the  snow  was 
hanging  upon  his  liair.  He  came  to  din- 
ner, which  had  been  waiting  for  him, 
without  changing  his  dress.  In  the  even- 
ing he  appeared  as  well  as  usual. 

A  heavy  fall  of  snow  took  place  on 
Friday,  which  prevented  the  general  from 
riding  out  as  usual.  He  had  taken  cold, 
undoubtedly  from  being  so  much  exposed 
the  day  before,  and  complained  of  a  sore 
throat.  He,  however,  went  out  in  the 
afternoon  into  the  ground  between  tlie 
house  and  the  river  to  mark  some  trees, 
which  were  to  be  cut  down  in  the  improve- 
ment of  that  spot.  As  was  usual  with 
him,  he  carried  his  own  compass,  noted 
his  observations,  and  marked  the  ground. 
He  had  a  hoarseness,  which  increased  in 
the  evening,  but  he  made  light  of  it. 

Between  two  and  three  o'clock,  on  Sat- 
urday morning,  December  fourteenth,  he 
awoke  Mrs.  Washington,  and  told  her  that 
he  was  very  unwell,  and  had  had  an  ague. 
She  observed  that  he  could  scarcely  speak, 


O^ 


Ar^^ 


and  breathed  with  difficult}',  and  would 
have  got  up  to  call  a  servant.  But  he 
would  not  permit  her,  lest  she  should  take 
a  cold.     As  soon  as  the  day  appeared,  the 


176 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


■woman  (Caroline)  went  into  tlie  room  to 
make  a  fire,  and  Mrs.  Washington  sent 
her  immediately  to  call  me.  I  got  up, 
put  on  my  clothes  as  quickly  as  possible, 
and  went  toliis  chamber.  Mrs.  Washing- 
ton was  then  up,  and  related  to  me  his 
being  ill  as  before  stated.  I  found  the 
general  breathing  with  difficulty,  and 
hardly  able  to  utter  a  word  intelligibly. 
He  desired  Mr.  Rawlins  (one  of  the  over- 
seers) might  be  sent  for,  to  bleed  him  be- 
fore the  doctor  could  arrive.  I  dispatched 
a  servant  instantly  for  Rawlins,  and  an- 
other for  Dr.  Craik,  and  returned  again  to 
the  general's  chamber,  where  I  found  him 
in  the  same  situation  as  I  had  left  him. 

A   mixture   of   molasses,    vinegar,   and 
butter,  was  prepared,  to  try  its  effects  in 
the  throat ;    but  he  could  not  swallow  a 
drop.     Whenever  he  attempted  it,  he  ap- 
jieared  to  be  distressed,  convulsed,  and  al- 
most  suffocated.     Rawlins   came  in  soon 
after  sunrise,  and  prepared  to  bleed  him. 
When  the  arm  was  ready,  the  general,  ob- 
serving that  Rawlius  appeared  to  be  agi- 
tated,   said,   as    well   as    he    could    speak, 
"  Don't  be  afraid."'    And  when  the  incision 
was  made,  he  observed,  "  The  orifice  is  not 
large    enough."     However,  the  blood  ran 
pretty    freely.      Mrs.    Washington,    not 
knowing  whether  bleeding  was  proper  or 
not  in  the  general's  situation,  begged  that 
much  might  not  be  taken  from  him,  lest  it 
should   be    injurious,   and   desired   me  to 
stop  it;  but,  when  I  was  about  to  untie 
the  string,  the  general  put  up  his  hand  to 
prevent  it,  and,  as  soon  as  he  could  speak, 
he  said,  "  More,  more."     Mrs.  Washing- 
ton being  still  very  uneasy,  lest  too  much 
blood  should  be  taken,  it  was  stopped  after 
taking  about  half  a  pint.     Finding  that  no 
relief    was    obtained    from    bleeding,    and 
tliat  nothing  would  go  down  the  throat,  I 
proposed  bathing   it    externally  with  ml 
volatile,  which  was  done,  and  in  the  opera- 
tion, which  was  with  the  hand,  and  in  the 
gentlest  manner,  he  observed,  "It  is  very 
sore."      A  piece  of  flannel  dipped  in  sal 
volatile  was  put  around  his  neck,  and  his 
feet   bathed  in  warm  water,  but  without 
affording  any  relief. 


"In  the  meantime,  before  Dr.  Craik  ar- 
rived, Mrs.  Washington  desired  me  to 
send  for  Dr.  Brown,  of  Port  Tobacco, 
whom  Dr.  Craik  had  recommended  to  be 
called,  if  any  case  should  ever  occur  that 
was  seriously  alarming. 

Dr.  Dick  came  about  three  o'clock,  and 
Di*.  Brown  arrived  soon  after.  Upon  Dr. 
Dick's  seeing  the  general,  and  consulting 
a  few  minutes  with  Dr.  Craik,  he  was  bled 
again.  The  blood  came  very  slow,  was 
thick,  and  did  not  produce  any  symptoms 
of  fainting.  Dr.  Brown  came  into  the 
chamber  soon  after,  and  upon  feeling  the 
general's  pulse,  the  physicians  went  out 
together.  Dr.  Craik  returned  soon  after, 
The  general  could  now  swallow  a  little. 
Calomel  and  tartar  emetic  were  adminis- 
tered, but  without  any  effect. 

The  weather  became  severely  cold, 
while  the  group  gathered  nearer  to  the 
couch  of  the  sufferer.  He  spoke  but  little. 
To  the  respectful  and  affectionate  inquir- 
ies of  an  old  family  servant,  as  she 
smoothed  down  his  pillow,  how  he  felt 
himself,  he  answered,  "  I  am  very  ill." 
To  Mrs.  Washington  he  said,  "  Go  to  my 
desk,  and  in  the  jirivate  drawer  you  will 
find  two  papers  —  bring  them  to  me." 
They  were  brought.  Upon  looking  at 
them  he  observed,  "  These  are  my  wills — 
preserve  this  one  and  burn  the  other ; " 
which  was  accordingly^  done. 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  he  ap- 
peared to  be  in  great  pain  and  distress, 
from  the  difficulty  of  breathing,  and  fre- 
quently changed  his  posture  in  the  bed. 
On  these  occasions  I  lay  upon  the  bed  and 
endeavored  to  raise  him,  and  turn  him 
with  as  much  ease  as  possible.  He  ap- 
peared penetrated  with  gratitude  for  my 
attentions,  and  often  said,  ''  I  am  afraid  I 
shall  fatigue  you  too  much  ;"  and  ui)on  my 
assuring  him  that  I  could  feel  nothing  but 
a  wish  to  give  him  ease,  he  replied, 

*'  Well,  it  is  a  debt  we  must  pay  to  each 
otlier,  and  I  hope,  when  you  want  aid  of 
this  kind,  you  will  find  it." 

He  asked  when  Mr.  Lewis  and  Wash- 
ington Custis  would  return.  (They  were 
then  in  New  Kent.)     I  told  him  about  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


177 


was  in  the  room  dur- 
ing the  day ;  and  in  the  afternoon,  the 
general  directed  him  to  sit  down,  as  he  had 
been  standing  ahnost  the  whole  day.  He 
did  so.  About  eight  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, he  had  expressed  a  desire  to  get  up. 
His  clothes  were  put  on,  and  he  was  led  to 
a  chair  by  the  fire ;  he  found  no  relief 
from  that  position,  and  lay  down  again 
about  ten  o'clock.  About  five  o'clock.  Dr. 
Craik  came  again  into  the  room,  and, 
upon  going  to  the  bedside,  the  general  said 
to  him, 

"  Doctor,  I  die  hard,  but  I  am  not  afraid 
to  go.  I  believed,  from  my  first  attack, 
that  I  should  not  survive  it.  My  breath 
can  not  last  long." 

The  doctor  pressed  his  hand,  but  could 

not  utter  a  word.     He   retired  from  the 

bedside,  and  sat  by  the  fire   absorbed  in 

grief.     Between  five  and  six  o'clock.  Dr. 

Dick  and  Dr.  Brown  came  into  the  room, 

and  with  Dr.  Craik  went  to  the  bed,  when 

Dr.  Craik  asked  him  if  he  could  sit  up  in 

the  bed.     He  held  out  his   hand,   and  I 
12 


'^  I  feel  r)iyself  going : 
I  thank  you  for  your 
attentions  ;  hut  I  pray  you  to  take  no  more 
trouble  about  tne.  Let  me  go  off  quietly. 
I  cannot  last  lortgP 

About  ten  o'clock  he  made  several  at- 
tempts to  speak  to  me  before  he  could 
effect  it.     At  length  he  said, 

"  I  am  just  going.  Have  me  decently 
buried ;  and  do  not  let  my  body  be  put 
into  the  vault  in  less  than  three  days  after 
I  am  dead." 

I  bowed  assent,  for  I  could  not  speak. 
He  then  looked  at  me  again  and  said, 

"  Do  you  understand  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  replied. 

'"Tis  WELL,"  said  he;  the  last  words 
which  he  ever  uttered  on  earth. 

With  surprising  self-jjossession  he  pre- 
pared to  die — composing  his  form  at  full 
length,  and  folding  his  arms  on  his  bosom. 

About  ten  minutes  before  he  expired 
(which  was  between  ten  and  eleven  o'clock 
Saturday  evening),  his  breathing  became 
easier.  He  lay  quietly  ;  he  withdrew  his 
hand  from  mine,  and  felt  his  own  pulse. 


178 


OUR  riEST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


I  saw  liis  countenance  change.  I  spoke  to 
Dr.  Craik,  wlio  sat  by  the  tire.  He  came 
to  the  bedside.  The  general's  hand  fell 
from  his  wrist.  I  took  it  in  mine,  and 
pressed  it  to  my  bosom.  Dr.  Craik  put 
his  hands  over  liis  eyes,  and  he  expired 
without  a  struggle  or  a  sigh,  December 
fourteenth,  1799,  in  the  sixty-eighth  year 
of  his  age,  after  an  illness  of  twenty-four 
hours. 

Wliile  we  were  fixed  in  silent  grief, 
Mrs.  Washington,  who  was  sitting  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed,  asked  with  a  firm  and 
collected  voice,  "  Is  he  gone  ?  "  I  could 
not  speak,  but  held  up  my  hand  as  a  signal 
that  he  was  no  more.  ''  'Tis  well,"  said 
she,  in  the  same  voice,  "  all  is  now  over ; 
I  shall  soon  follow  him ;  I  liave  no  more 
trials  to  pass  through." 

The  disease  of  which  Washington  died 
was  what  is  now  technically  called  "  acute 
laryngitis,"  a  disease  of  very  rare  occur- 
rence. 


OEOROE  WASHINarON,  AS  COLONEL. 

About  twelve  o'clock,  the  body  was  car- 
ried down  stairs,  and  laid  out  in  the  large 
drawing-room  ;  the  burial  taking  place  the 
next  AVednesday,  December  18th,  his 
mortal  remains  being  deposited  in  the 
family  vault  at  jVIount  Vernon.  The 
sudden  tidings  of  liis  death  fell  like  a  do- 
mestic sorrow  upon  the  hearts  of  the 
people  ;  lamentations  and  solemn  obsequies 
filled  the  land, — and,  throughout  the  whole 
world,  the  event  was  heard  with  the  deep- 
est emotion. 

Nearly  forty  years  after  Washington's 


death  and  burial,  his  remains,  together 
with  those  of  his  wife,  were  re-entombed, 
in  order  to  their  being  placed  in  the 
marble  coffins  which  had  been  generously 
offered  for  that  jjurpose  by  a  i^atriotic  citi- 
zen of  Philadelphia,  to  the  legal  represen- 
tatives of  the  departed  chieftain.  This 
was  in  1837.  At  the  time  of  Washino;- 
ton's  interment,  December  18,  1799,  his 
body  was  placed  in  a  mahogany  coffin  lined 
with  lead,  soldered  at  the  joints,  with  a 
cover  of  lead  to  be  soldered  on  after  the 
body  should  be  in  the  vault.  The  coffin 
was  put  into  a  case,  lined  and  covered 
with  black  cloth. 

On  entering  the  tomb  and  examining 
the  coffin,  on  the  occasion  in  question,  it 
was  found  that  the  lid  had  become  dis- 
placed and  broken,  and  the  silver  shield 
which  had  originally  surmounted  the  lid 
had  dropped  down  into  the  case.  At  the 
request  of  Major  Lewis,  who  was  one  of 
the  family  group  to  witness  the  re-entomb- 
ment, the  fractured  part  of  the  lid  Avas 
turned  over  on  the  lower  part,  exposing  to 
view  a  head  and  breast  of  large  dimen- 
sions, which  appeared,  by  the  dim  light  of 
the  candles,  to  have  suffered  but  little 
from  the  effects  of  time.  The  eye-sockets 
Avere  large  and  deep,  and  the  breadth 
across  the  temples,  together  with  the  fore- 
head, appeared  of  unusual  size.  There 
was  no  appearance  of  grave-clothes ;  the 
chest  was  broad,  the  color  was  dark,  and 
there  was  the  appearance  of  dried  flesh 
and  skin  adhering  closely  to  the  bones. 

The  ancient  family  vault,  in  which 
Washington's  remains  fii\st  reposed,  was 
situated  under  the  shade  of  a  small  grove 
of  forest  trees,  a  short  distance  from  the 
family  mansion  of  Mount  Vernon,  and 
near  the  brow  of  the  precipitous  bank  of 
the  Potomac.  Diminutive  and  unadorned, 
this  humble  sepulchre  stood  in  a  most 
romantic  and  picturesque  spot,  and,  on  ac- 
count of  its  prominent  locality,  could  be 
distinctly  seen  by  travelers,  as  they  passed 
in  steamboats  up  and  down  the  river. 

But  the  ashes  of  the  father  of  his  coun- 
try were  in  course  of  time  removed  from 
that  place,   to  a  lot  near  the  corner   of  a 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


179 


beautiful  enclosure,  where  the  river  is  con- 
cealed from  view.  This  site  was  selected 
by  Washington  himself,  in  the  later  years 
of  his  life,  for  a  tomb. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  cite  the  opin- 
ions held  by  the  illustrious  men  of  Amer- 
ica concerning  Washington.  Those  opin- 
ions, held  and  shared  by  all,  from  the 
highest  to  the  humblest  citizen,  may  all 
be  summed  up  in  that  grand  apotheosis  of 
eulogy,  namely,  that  he  was  "First  in 
War,  First  in  Peace,  First  in  the 
Hearts  of  His  Countrymen."  It  will 
be  of  interest,  however,  in  this  place, 
to  glance  at  the  estimate  of  Washing- 
ton held  by  some  of  the  great  historic 
characters  of  the  old  world, — kings,  queens, 
nobles,  and  orators. 

AVhen  Napoleon  w^as  about  to  embark 
for  Egypt,  some  American  gentlemen  who 
happened  to  be  at  Toulon,  being  anxious 
for  an  interview  with  the  mighty  Corsi- 
can,  obtained  an  introduction  to  him. 
Scarcely  were  the  customary  salutations 
exchanged,  when  lie  eagerly  asked — 

"How  fares  your  countryman,  the  great 
Washington  ?  " 

"  He  was  very  well,  general,  when  we 
left  America,"  rej^lied  the  travelers. 

"Ah,  gentlemen,"  rejoined  the  man  of 
destiny,  "Washington  can  never  be  other- 
wise than  well.     The  measure  of  his  fame 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON,  GENERAL  U.  S.  A. 

is  full.  Posterity  will  talk  of  him  with 
reverence  as  the  founder  of  a  great  empire, 
when  my  name  shall  be  lost  in  the  vortex 
of  revolutions." 

Marie  Antoinette,  queen  of  France,  was 


a  great  admirer  of  the  heroism  and  per- 
sonal character  of  Washington,  though 
not  in  sympathy  with  his  political  princi- 
ples.     Wishing  to   send   to   him   a  royd 


PRESIDENT  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 


gift  in  token  of  her  appreciation  of  his 
great  merits,  she  consulted  Lafayette  as  to 
the  form  of  presentation,  citing  the  terms 
used  on  similar  occasions,  in  addressing 
kings  and  other  monarchs.  Lafayette 
mildly  objected  to  those  terms,  as  being 
not  altogether  suitable  in  the  present  case, 
saying:  "They,  madam,  Avere  only  kings. 
Washington  is  the  General  of  a  free  na- 
tion,"— a  sentiment  to  which  the  gentle- 
mannered  queen  at  once  yielded  a  most 
gracious  assent,  in  deference  to  the  ac- 
knowledged pre-eminence  of  Washington. 
Lord  Erskine,  in  writing  to  Washington 
from  London,  said :  "  I  have  taken  the 
liberty  to  introduce  your  august  and  im- 
mortal name  in  a  short  sentence,  which  is 
to  be  found  in  a  book  I  send  3'^ou.  I  have 
a  large  acquaintance  among  the  most  val- 
uable and  exalted  classes  of  men  ;  but  you 
are  the  only  human  being  for  whom  I  have 
ever  felt  an  awful  reverence.  I  sincerely 
pray  God  to  grant  you  a  long  and  serene 
evening  to  a  life  so  gloriously  devoted  to 
the  universal  happiness  of  the  world." 


180 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


In  tlie  year  1780,  Frederick  the  Great, 
king  of  Prussia,  presented  General  Wash- 
ington with  a  picture  of  his  majesty  taken 
to  the  life,  and  inscribed  underneath  with 
the  words — 

*'  From  the  oldest  general  in  Europe,  to 
the  (jreatest  general  on  earth.^ 

Charles  James  Fox,  the  renowned  Brit- 
ish premier,  declared  of  Washington,  in 
the  presence  of  parliament:  ''How  infi- 
nitely wiser  must  aj^pear  the  spirit  and 
principles  manifested  in  his  late  addresses 
to  congress  than  the  policy  of  modern  Eu- 
ropean courts  !  Illustrious  man  !  deriving 
honor  less  from  the  splendor  of  his  situa- 
tion than  from  the  dignity  of  his  mind; 
before  whom  all  borrowed  greatness  sinks 
into  insignificance,  and  all  the  potentates 
of  Europe — excepting  the  members  of  our 
own  royal  family — ^become  little  and  con- 
tem^itible.  I  can  not,  indeed,  help  admir- 
ing the  wisdom  and  fortune  of  this  great 
man.  A  character,  of  virtues  so  happily 
tempered  by  one  another,  and  so  wholly 
unalloyed  by  any  vices,  is  hardly  to  be 
found  on  the  pages  of  history.  For  him  it 
has  been  reserved  to  run  the  race  of  glory, 
without  experiencing  the  smallest  inter- 
ruption to  the  brilliancy  of  his  career." 

When  the  news  of  Washington's  death 
reached  France,  Napoleon  announced  the 
event  to  his  army,  and  ordered  black  cra2')e 
to  be  suspended  from  all  the  flags  and 
standards  in  the  French  service  for  ten 
days ;  and,  on  the  eighth  of  February, 
1800,  M.  DeFontanes,  by  direction  of  Na- 
poleon, pronounced  a  funeral  oration  in 
honor  of  Washington,  in  the  presence  of 
Bonaparte  and  the  great  dignitaries  of  the 
realm,  in  which  oration  the  illustrious  de- 
ceased was  declared  to  be  "  a  character 
worthy  the  best  days  of  antiquity." 

Of  Washington's  personal  appearance, 
little  further  need  be  remarked  than  that 
it  comported  entirely  with  the  solid  gran- 
deur of  his  character.  In  respect  to  ]^hg- 
sique,  no  man  could  have  been  better 
formed  for  command.  A  stature  some- 
what exceeding  six  feet,  a  full  but  admir- 
ably-proportioned frame,  calculated  to 
sustain    fatigue,    without   that   heaviness 


which  generally  attends  great  muscular 
strength  and  abates  active  exertion,  dis- 
played bodily  power  of  no  mean  standard. 
A  light  gray  eye  and  full,  firm  forehead, 
Roman  nose  ;  his  mouth  was  peculiar  of  its 


TOMB  OF  WASHINGTON. 

class — the  lips  firm,  and  the  untlet  jaw 
seeming  to  grasp  the  upper  with  force,  as 
if  its  muscles  were  in  full  action  when  he 
sat  still.  It  was  Washington's  habit  to 
fasten  his  eyes  calmly  and  steadily  upon 
those  who  wore  ushered  into  his  presence, 
whether  friend  or  foe,  nor  was  it  a  slight 
ordeal  thus  to  meet  his  penetrating  gaze. 
His  limbs  wore  long,  large,  and  sinewy, 
and  his  frame  was  of  equal  breadth  from 
the  shoulders  to  the  hips  ;  his  joints  were 
large,  as  were  also  his  feet,  and  the  great 
size  of  his  hand  never  failed  to  attract 
attention.  His  gait  and  tread  was  that  of 
a  jn-acticed  soldier;  liis  deportment  inva- 
riably grave  and  reserved ;  his  speech 
sparing  and  deliberate.  At  home  he  wore 
the  usual  dress  of  a  citizen ;  on  state  occa- 
sions, he  dressed  in  a  full  suit  of  the  rich- 
est black  velvet,  with  diamond  knee- 
buckles,    and    square    silver    buckles    set 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


181 


upon  shoes  japanned  witli  the  most  scru- 
pulous neatness,  bhick  silk  stockings,  his 
shirt  rufiled  at  the  breast  and  wrists,  a 
light  dress  sword,  his  hair  profusely  pow- 
dered, full}'  dressed,  so  as  to  project  at  tlie 
sides,  and  gathered  behind  in  a  silk  bag, 


ornamented  with  a  large  rose  of  black 
ribbon.  In  the  prime  of  life,  Washington 
stood  six  feet  two  inches,  and  weighed 
nearly  two  hundred  and  twenty  pounds  ; 
he  measured  precisely  six  feet  when  at- 
tired for  the  grave. 


XYII. 

PUNISHMENT   AND    COMPLETE    DEGRADATION    OF    THE 
BARBARY  STATES  BY  THE  YOUNG  REPUBLIC— 1803. 


Tribute  Exacted  of  all  the  Nations  of  Christendom,  by  tlie  Piratical  Powers. — The  Thunder  of  American 
Cannon  before  their  Cities  — Ignominious  Submission  of  Morocco,  Algiers,  Tunis,  and  Tripoli. — Tiieir 
Audacious  Corsairs  Vanquisiied  and  Driven  in  Terror  from  the  Seas. — A  Boon  to  the  Civilized 
World. — Barbary  a  Nation  of  Freebooters. — All  Commerce  at  their  Mercy. — The  United  States 
Unknown  to  Them. — Its  Flag  Descried  on  the  Ocean. — Fresh  Plunder  Anticipated. — Seizure  of 
American  Ships. — Retaliation  by  the  Yankees — Tripoli's  Flag  Struck  at  Last. — Treaty  between  the 
Belligerents  — New  Exactions  by  the  Algerines. — Retribution  in  Store  for  Them  — A  United  States 
Frigate  in  the  Pirate  Haunts. — Grounding  of  the  Philadelphia. — Her  Triumphant  Capture  by  the 
Enemy. — Their  Boisterous  Exultation. — Decatur  Burns  Her  During  the  Night. — Fierce  Rage  of  the 
Turks. — Bombardment  of  Tripoli — How  "  Christian  Dogs  "  were  Viewed. — Peace  Sued  for  by  the 
Despots. — Their  Duplicity  and  Treachery. — America's  "Tribute"  is  Powder  and  Balls. 


"If  you  insist  upon  receiving  powder  as  tribute,  you  must  expect  to  receive  balls  with  it  I  "—Commodore  Decatur  to  the  Barbabt 
Government. 


U.  8.  TKIItUTE  TO 
HAItHAKY. 


ONSIDERINGr  the  peculiar  weakness  and  insignificance  of  the 
Barbary  States,  as  a  military  power,  it  may  well  appear  strange  to  the 
reader  of  history,  at  the  present  day,  that,  almost  to  the  ojjening  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  nearly  all  the  maritime  nations  of  the  earth 
paid  tribute  to  that  power,  in  order  to  appease  the  insolence  and  ob- 
tain exemption  from  the  ravages  of  their  piratical  cruisers.  The  gov- 
ernment of  England  or  of  France  might,  as  has  been  truly  remarked, 
have  stopped  this  system  of  piracy  long  before,  by  one  peremi)tory  word  ; 
liut,  as  the  corsairs  committed  their  dejiredations  chiefly  in  the  Med- 
iterranean, those  two  countries  had  no  special  inducement  to  interfere.  And  there  was 
always  some  jealous  calculation  of  advantage, — some  pitiful  project  of  turning  them  to 
future  account, — which  prevented  decisive  action  on  the  part  of  either  nation.  Then 
the  wars  whicli  followed  the  French  Revolution  kept  Europe  busy  at  home,  and  gave 
the  Barbary  sailors  the  opportunity  of  pursuing  their  calling  for  a  few  years  longer 
with  impunity.  Tlie  Engli.sh,  with  large  fleets  and  naval  stations  in  the  Mediterranean, 
hail  nothing  to  fear  from  tliem,  and  were,  probablv,  not  much  displeased  with  the  con- 
tributions levied  upon  the  commerce  of  other  nations.  French  merchantmen  kept  at 
home.  Spain,  Sweden,  Denmark,  and  Holland  tried  to  outbid  one  another  for  the  favor 
of  the  bey,  dey,  and  pacha,  and  were  robbed  and  enslaved  whenever  it  suited  the  inter- 
ests of  their  highnesses.  The  Portuguese  ])rudently  kept  out  of  reach,  and  protected 
their  coast  by  guarding  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar.     It  was   a  long  time,  comparatively, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


183 


before  their  liighnesses  were  made  ac- 
quainted Avitli  tlie  fact  of  there  beiiij;  u 
sovereignty  called  the  United  States. 

In  course  of  time,  the  piratical  cruisers 
descried  a  new  Hag  floating  jjroudl}'  from 
the  mast-head  of  heavy-freighted  craft 
plowing  their  way  gallantly  through  the 
blue  waters;  but,  though  its  ap[)earance 
was  liailed  with  avaricious  jo}-,  as  insuring 
additional  harvests  of  plunder,  it  was  soon 
to  seal  their  doom,  and  scatter  them,  af- 
frighted and  disnia3^ed,  from  the  high  seas. 

Few  subjects  had  excited  more  irritation 
among  the  people  as  well  as  the  authori- 
ties of  the  government  of  the  United 
States,  up  to  this  period  of  their  national 
independence,  than  this  lawless  and  out- 
rageous  captivity  of  their    fellow-citizens 


in  Algiers. 


It  may  well  be  supposed,  however,  that 
no  such  galling  3'oke  could  long  be  worn 
or  borne  by  a  free  people ;  and  it  was  not 
long,  therefore,  before  Washington  recom- 
mended the  construction  of  a  naval  arma- 
ment adequate  to  the  protection  of  the 
commerce  of  the  United  States  against  the 
depredations  committed  by  the  dey's  cor- 
sairs, and  this  proposal  eventually  received 
the  sanction  of  congress.  The  act  pro- 
vided for  four  frigates  of  forty-four  guns 
€ach,  and  two  of  thirty-six  guns  each,  and 
in  due  time  they  were  built,  manned  and 
equipped,  and  put  in  commission,  to  vindi- 
cate the  rights  and  liberties  of  the  Amer- 
ican flag. 

There  was  retribution  in  store  for  the 
Barbary  States,  to  be  dealt  out  to  them  by 
the  youngest  and  most  remote  in  the 
family  of  nations  ! 

The  naval  squadron  intended  for  this 
purpose  consisted  of  the  frigate  President, 
commanded  by  Commodore  Dale,  the 
frigate  Philadelphia,  commanded  by  Cap- 
tain Barron,  the  frigate  Essex,  under 
Captain  Bainbridge,  and  the  schooner  En- 
terprise, Lieutenant  Commandant  Sterrett. 
In  obedience  to  instructions  from  Commo- 
dore Dale,  Bainbridge  a])peared  off  the 
cities  of  Algiers,  Tunis,  and  Tripoli ;  and 
during  the  winter  and  spring  of  1802, 
cruised  in  different  jiarts  of  the  Mediterra- 


nean, and  cnnvoyed  the  United  States 
merchant  vessels  issuing  from  various 
l)orts,  out  of  that  infested  sea.  After  this 
])eriod  of  service,  Commodore  Dale  w.as 
succeeded  in  his  command,  first  by  Com- 


modore Richard  V.  INIorris,  ai:d  subse- 
quently by  Commodore  Preble.  The 
Essex,  appearing  unseaworthy,  was  sent 
home.  It  should  also  be  here  mentioned, 
that,  on  the  sixth  of  August,  1801,  the 
Enterprise  fell  in  with  a  Tripolitan  ship  of 
war  of  equal  force;  the  action  continued 
three  hours  and  a  half,  the  corsair  fight- 
ing with  great  obstinacy,  and  even  des- 
peration, until  she  struck,  liaving  lost  fifty 
killed  and  woimded,  while  the  Enterprise 
had  not  a  man  injured.  This  was  the 
first  Tripolitan  ship-of-war,  and  indeed 
the  first  armed  vessel  of  any  of  the  Bar- 
bary powers,  which  ever  struck  to  the 
American  flag. 

Not  only  did  the  United  States  now 
determine  to  protect  its  maritime  rights  as 
a  commercial  j)0wer,  but  it  resolved  to 
pursue  the  matter  aggressively,  and 
punish  the  insolence  of  the  piratical  bar- 
barians Avho  thus  assumed  to  dictate  to 
Christendom.  Under  Commodore  Preble, 
the  squadron  consisted  of  the  frigate  Phil- 
adelphia, of  forty-four  guns,  commanded 
by  Bainbridge ;  the  frigate  Constitution, 
of  forty-four  guns,  commanded  l)y  Preble  ; 
the  brig  Syren,  of  twelve  guns,  commanded 
by  Stewart;  and  the  s(-hooners  Vixen, 
Nautilus,  Argus,  and  Enterprise,  of  twelve 


184 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


to  sixteen  guns  each,  and  commanded  re- 
spectivel}^  by  Lieutenants  Smith,  Somers, 
Hull,  and  Decatur.  Their  orders  were  to 
humble  and  punish  the  Barbary  sover- 
eigns. 

While  going  up  the  Mediterranean,  the 
Philadelphia  descried,  on  the  coast  of 
Spain,  near  Cape  de  Gatte,  a  ship  car- 
rying only  her  foresail,  with  a  brig  in 
company.  It  being  night,  and  the  guns 
of  the  craft  being  housed,  it  was  not  easy 
to  at  once  discover  her  true  character. 
After  repeatedly  hailing,  she  proved  to  be 
a  ship-of-war  from  Barbary,  on  whicli  in- 
formation, Bainbridge  ordered  her  boat  to 
be  sent  on  board  the  Philadeljihia,  with 
her  papers  ;  the  latter  showed  that  she 
was  a  cruiser  belonging  to  the  emperor  of 
Morocco,  and  called  the  Meshboha,  com- 
manded by  Ibrahim  Lubarez,  mounting 
twenty-two  guns,  and  carrying  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  men. 

By  not  making  themselves  known,  on 
board  the  Philadelphia,  to  the  Moorish 
officer  who  jiresented  himself,  the  latter 
made  free  to  say  that  the  brig  in  company 
was  American,  and  had  been  with  them 
three  or  four  days,  was  bound  to  some  port 
in  Spain,  and  had  been  boarded  by  them, 
but  not  detained.  The  small  sail,  how- 
ever, which  the  brig  was  under,  induced 
Bainbridge  to  suspect  that  she  had  been 
captured ;  he  therefore  sent  his  first  lieu- 
tenant on  board  the  pirate,  to  see  if  there 
were  any  American  prisoners. 


C<:i^(^\j<jiyycC^ 


Bainbridge  instantly  ordered  all  the 
Moorish  officers  and  crew  on  board  the 
Philadelphia.  Owing  to  the  high  wind 
and  sea,  the  greater  part  of  the  night  was 
thus  occupied  in  getting  the  jjrisoners  on 
board  and  manning  the  prize,  by  which 
detention  the  brig  was  lost  sight  of,  nor 
was  she  discovered  again  until  late  in  the 
afternoon  of  the  ensuing  day,  when  she 
was  met  coming  round  Cape  de  Gatte  from 
the  eastward,  standing  close  in  shore  for 
Almira  Bay  ;  but  in  consequence  of  light 
winds,  she  was  not  re-caj^tured  until  mid- 
night. The  Moors  confessed  that  they 
came  out  for  the  sole  purpose  of  cruising 
for,  and  capturing,  American  vessels.  On 
the  morning  after  the  capture,  the  Moor- 
ish commander  was  requested  to  exhibit 
the  orders  which  authorized  him  to  cap- 
ture American  vessels,  to  which  he  replied, 
that  he  had  none.     To  the  question,  why 


he  had  captured  the  brig,  he  answered, 
that  as  there  was  some  misunderstanding 
between  his  master  and  the  United  States 
consul,  at  Tangier,  he  was  induced  to 
commit  this  act,  in  anticipation  of  the  war, 
which  he  thought  was  inevitable.  Cap- 
tain Bainbridge  observed  to  him,  that  if 
such  had  been  his  intention  previously  to 
sailing,  he  ought  not,  as  an  honorable 
officer,  to  have  availed  himself  of  the  pro' 
tection  of  the  consul's  passports,  which, 
from  all  appearances,  were  obtained  with 
the  view  of  practicing  a  deception  on  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORAl'.LE  EVENTS. 


185 


BURNING  OF  THE  PHILADELPHIA, 


United  States  cruisers.  Captain  Bain- 
bridge  expressed  an  unwillingness  to  be- 
lieve him  capable  of  acting  thus  dishonor- 
ably, and  therefore  must  presume  that 
this  violation  of  national  faith  was  com- 
mitted under  the  authority  of  the  emperor. 
The  Moorish  commander,  still  persisting 
in  his  first  denial,  Captain  Bainbridge 
turned  upon  him,  and  sternly  remarked — 

"  Then,  sir,  I  must  consider  you  a 
pirate,  and  will  be  obliged  to  treat  you  as 
such." 

Bainbridge  now  pulled  out  his  watch, 
showed  Lubarez  the  hour,  and  stated  in  an 
impressive  tone,  that  he  was  about  to  Ansit 
the  quarter-deck  for  half  an  hour,  and  if 
his  authority  for  depredating  on  the  com- 
merce of  the  United  States  was  not  forth- 
coming on  his  return,  he  would  immedi- 
ately hang  him  to  the  main  yard,  as  a 
pirate  and  malefactor.  At  the  appointed 
time,  Captain  Bainbridge  returned  to  the 
cabin  with  watch  in  hand,  and  his  deter- 
mined purpose  manifest  in  every  look  and 
movement.  Startled  at  the  course  which 
things  seemed  to  be  taking,  the  Moor  has- 
tily proceeded  to  unbutton  several  waist- 
coats, and,  from  the  inside  pocket  of  the 
fifth,  drew  out  the  secret  document,  the 
nature  of  which  confirmed  the  American 
commander's  suspicions.     Lubarez  was  a 


man  of  education,  great  dignity,  and  had 
for  many  years  represented  the  emperor  of 
Morocco,  as  minister  at  the  courts  of 
France  and  Spain.  His  capture  was  most 
timely. 

The  attention  of  Commodore  Preble 
was  first  directed  toward  Morocco,  and 
anchoring  at  Tangier  with  a  part  of  his 
squadron,  in  October,  1803,  he  humbled 
the  emperor  by  proposing  such  terms,  and 
insisting  on  their  acceptance,  as  placed  the 
relations  of  the  United  States  with  that 
power  on  a  greatly-improved  footing. 

Most  of  the  armament  was  now  to  be 
concentrated  before  Tripoli.  On  arriving 
off  that  port,  the  Philadelphia,  Captain 
Bainbridge,  was  sent  into  the  harbor  to 
reconnoiter.  While  in  eager  pursuit  of  a 
small  vessel,  he  unfortunately  advanced  so 
far  that  the  frigate  grounded  on  a  ledge  of 
rocks,  in  plain  sight  of  the  enemy,  and  all 
attempts  to  remove  her  were  absolutely 
in  vain.  The  sea  around  her  was  imme- 
diately covered  with  Tripolitan  gunboats, 
and  Bainbridge  Avas  compelled  to  surren- 
der, the  ship  being  a  perfect  wreck,  and 
exposed  to  the  constant  fire  of  the  gun- 
boats for  more  than  five  hours.  Immedi- 
ate possession  was  taken  of  the  frigate, 
she  being  entered  at  every  point,  and  an 
indiscriminate  plunder  ensuing. 


186 


OUR  FIRST  CEXTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Lieutenant  Stephen  Decatur,  a  gallant 
officer  of  the  besieging  squadron,  early 
proposed  a  plan  for  re-capturing  or  de- 
stroying the  Philadelphia,  and,  accord- 
ingly, Commodore  Preble  directed  him  to 
proceed  in  the  ketch  Intrepid,  carrying 
four  guns  and  seventy-five  men,  under  the 
escort  of  the  Sj-ren,  Captain  Stewart,  in 
the  prosecution  of  his  plan. 

The  Philadelphia  lay  within  half  gun- 
shot of  the  governor's  palace,  and  several 
cruisers  and  gun-boats  surrounded  her  with 
jealous  vigilance.  The  Intrepid  entered 
the  harbor  alone,  about  eight  o'clock  in 
the  evening,  and  in  a  short  time  succeeded 
in  getting  near  the  Philadelphia,  without 
having  awakened  susjjicions  of  any  hostile 
design  being  under  way.  The  Intrepid 
was  a  vessel  wdiich  had  been  captured  from 
the  Tripolitans,  and,  assuming  on  this  oc- 
casion her  former  national  appearance, 
was  permitted  to  warp  alongside,  under 
the  alleged  pretense  tliat  she  had  lost  all 
her  anchors.  The  moment  the  vessel 
came  in  contact,  Decatur  and  his  followers 
leaped  on  board,  and  soon  overwhelmed  a 
crew  that  was  paralyzed  with  consterna- 
tion. Twenty  of  the  Tripolitans  were 
killed.  All  the  surrounding  batteries 
being  opened  upon  the  Philadelphia,  she 
was  immediate!}'  set  on  fire,  and  not  aban- 
doned until  thorouglily  wrapped  inflames; 


C^^i^^''.  N^v^V 


Ct^*T.<^fX-^    C 


C^^?^^^^^ 


when,  a  favoring  breeze  springing  up,  the 
Intrepid  extricated  herself  from  her  prey, 
and  sailed  triumphantly  out  of  the  harbor 


amid  the  light  of  the  conflagration.  Not 
the  slightest  loss  of  life  occurred  on  the 
side  of  the  Americans  to  shade  the  splen- 
dor of  the  enterprise.  One  seaman  re- 
ceived a  severe  wound,  under  peculiar 
circumstances.  It  appears  that  as  soon  as 
the  Intrepid  was  warped  alongside  the 
Philadelphia,  Decatur  sprang  on  board, 
quickly  followed  by  the  other  officers  and 
men.  Instantly,  the  brave  commander, 
with  his  gallant  comrades,  rushed,  sword 
in  hand,  on  the  enemy,  who  were  crowded 
together  on  the  forecastle,  and  killed  or 
drove  into  the  sea  the  whole  gang.  In  the 
first  desperate  struggle,  Decatur  was  dis- 
armed and  fell,  momentarily  overpowered 
in  the  sanguinary  melee.  A  saber  was 
already  lifted  to  strike  the  fatal  blow, 
when  this  heroic  seaman,  observing  the 
perilous  situation  of  his  officer,  reached 
forward,  and  received  the  blow  of  the 
saber  on  his  arm. 

It  is  recorded  that  nothing  could  exceed 
the  rage  of  the  sovereign,  at  the  loss  of 
his  valuable  prize.  Barbarian-like,  he 
ordered  the  prison  to  be  immediately  sur- 
rounded by  guards,  and  interrupted  all 
intercourse  between  the  officers  and  men. 
They  were  also  conducted  under  a  strong 
guard  to  the  castle,  and  confined  in  a 
cold  and  damp  ai:)artment,  with  only 
one  ojiening  at  the  top,  which  was  grated 
with  iron;  light  and  air  came  through 
this  aperture  solely.  Thus  they  were 
entombed  during  the  remaindei  of  their 
captivity. 

Determined  now  to  try  the  effect  of  a 
bombardment,  Preble  brought  together  all 
his  forces  before  Tripoli,  in  July,  1804. 
The  enemy  having  sent  some  gun-boats 
and  galleys  Avithout  the  reef  at  the  mouth 
of  the  harbor,  two  divisions  of  American 
gun-boats  were  formed  for  the  purpose  of 
attacking  them,  while  the  large  vessels 
assailed  the  batteries  and  town.  Early  in 
August,  the  American  squadron  aj)- 
proached  within  gun-shot  of  the  town,  and 
opened  a  tremendous  fire  of  shot  and 
shells,  which  was  as  promptly  returned  by 
the  Tripolitan  batteries  and  shipping.  At 
the  same  time,  the  two  divisions  of  gun- 


GREAT  AND  MEM0RAI5LE  EVENTS. 


187 


BOMBAKDMENT  OF  TRIPOLI. 


boats,  the  first  under  the  command  of 
Captain  Richard  Somers,  the  second  under 
Captain  Stejjhen  Decatur,  who  had  been 
promoted  as  a  reward  for  his  late  achieve- 
ment, advanced  against  tliose  of  the 
enemy.  The  squadron  was  about  two 
hours  under  tlie  enemy's  batteries,  gener- 
ally within  pistol-shot,  ranging  by  them  in 
deliberate  succession,  alternately  silencing 
their  fires,  and  launching  its  thunders  into 
the  very  palace  of  royalty,  while  a  3'et 
more  animated  battle  Avas  raging  in  an- 
other quarter.  What  the  Turks  them- 
selves thought  of  these  demonstrations 
may  be  judged  from  the  fact  that  the  gov- 
ernor, affecting  at  first  to  despise  his 
assailants  and  their  attack,  was  soon  glad 
to  run  in  dismay  to  a  bomb-proof  apart- 
ment in  his  castle.  The  sons  of  the 
prophet  said,  in  their  rage  : — 

"The  English,  French  and  Spanish 
consuls,  have  told  us  that  they  are  a  young 
nation,  and  got  their  independence  by 
means  of  France ;  that  they  had  a  small 
navy  and  their  officers  were  inexperienced, 
and  that  the}^  were  merely  a  nation  of 
merchants,  and  that,  by  taking  their  ships 
and  men,   we  should   get  great  ransoms. 


Instead  of  this,  their  Pi-eble  pays  us  a 
coin  of  shot,  shells,  and  hard  blows;  and 
sent  a  Decatur,  in  a  dark  night,  with  a 
band  of  Christian  dogs  fierce  and  cruel 
as  the  tiger,  who  killed  our  brothers  and 
burnt  our  ships  before  our  eyes." 

Preble  now  planned  to  send  a  fire-ship 
into  the  enemy's  harbor.  The  Intrepid 
was  fitted  out  for  this  service,  filled  with 
combustible  and  explosive  materials.  The 
brave  Captain  Somers  was  appointed  to 
conduct  her,  under  suitable  convoy,  to  the 
mouth  of  the  harbor  ;  choice  was  also  made 
of  two  of  the  fleetest  boats  in  the  squad- 
ron, manned  with  picked  crews,  to  bring 
them  out.  At  eight  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing she  stood  into  the  harbor  with  a  mod- 
erate breeze.  Several  shots  were  fired  at 
her  from  the  batteries.  She  had  nearly 
gained  her  place  of  destination  when  she 
exploded,  without  having  made  any  of  the 
signals  previously  concerted  to  show  that 
all  was  well.  Night  hung  over  the  dread- 
ful catastrophe,  and  left  the  whole  squad- 
ron a  prey  to  the  most  painful  anxiety. 
The  convo}^  hovered  about  the  harbor  until 
sunrise,  when  no  remains  could  be  discov- 
ered either  of  the  Intrepid  or  her  boats. 


188 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Doubt  was  now  turned  into  fatal  certaintj^, 
— she  had  premature!}'  blown  up !  This 
event  was  deeply  deplored  in  the  United 
States,  and,  in  memory  of  the  heroic  dead, 
there  has  been  erected  a  beautiful  Doric 
monument  in  the  capitol  grounds  at 
Washington. 

Soon  after  these  events.  Commodore 
Barron  succeeded  Preble  in  command,  and 
it  being  understood  that  re-enforcements 
and  another  attack  were  near  at  hand,  the 
Turkish  ruler  came  to  terms,  and  desired 
to  make  peace. 

True  to  their  characteristic  duplicity 
and  treachery,  the  Algerine  authorities,  on 
the  breaking-out  of  war  between  England 
and  the  United  States,  took  advantage  of 
the  presumed  disabilities  of  the  latter,  re- 
sumed their  system  of  piracies  and  extorting 
tribute-money  and  presents.  Two  squad- 
rons were  duly  fitted  out  by  the  American 
government,  and  were  commanded  by 
Commodores  Decatur  and  Bainbridge. 
Appearing  before  Algiers,  Decatur  sent 
the  model  of  a  treaty  to  the  governor,  de- 
manding instant  agreement.  The  Turk 
thought  it  hard  to  liave  to  relinquish  his 
tribute-money  and  presents  of  every  sort, 
and  intimated  that  he  would  at  least  like 
to  receive  a  supply  of  powder.     "  7/","  re- 


plied Decatur,  "  you  insist  upon  receiving 
powder  as  tribute,  you  must  expect  to  re- 
ceive halls  ivith  it !  "  The  governor  turned 
pale  at  this  stern  language,  and  was  glad 
enough  to  yield  to  the  terms  dictated  by 
the  intrepid  negotiator. 

Thus,  before  the  authorities  of  Barbary 
had  received  any  intimation  of  the  restor- 
ation of  peace  between  Britain  and  Amer- 
ica, the  American  squadron  appeared 
before  their  capitals  ;  had  captui-ed  several 
of  their  vessels  ;  compelled  the  governor  of 
Algiers  to  submit  to  the  indignity  of  sign- 
ing, on  Decatur's  quarter-deck,  a  humiliat- 
ing treaty;  obliged  Tunis  to  refund  the 
amount  of  American  property  which  they 
permitted  the  English  cruisers  to  take  out 
of  their  harbor;  and  exacted  of  Tripoli  an 
apology  for  the  insult  offered  to  the  United 
States  consul,  and  again  to  hoist  the  re- 
public's flag  over  the  consul's  house, 
accompanied  by  a  salute  of  twenty-four 
guns.  The  submission  of  these  powers 
was  complete.  They  bound  themselves  to 
make  indemnity  for  past  extortions ;  to 
surrender  every  prisoner  without  ransom; 
and  to  renounce  all  claim  for  tribute  from 
the  American  government,  as  well  as  their 
barbarous  practice  of  piracy  and  reducing 
prisoners  to  slavery. 


XYIII. 

FATAL   DUEL   BETWEEN   MR.   BURR  AND    GENERAL 
ALEXANDER    HAMILTON.— 1804. 


Fall  of  Hamilton  at  First  Fire. — His  Death  in  Thirty  Hours. — Profound  Sensation  and  Solemn  Obse- 
quies in  all  Parts  of  tlie  Land. — Mourned  as  one  of  the  Founders  of  the  Republic. — Indictment  of  the 
Assassin  for  the  Crime  of  Murder. — Hamilton's  Brilliant  Public  Life. —  Washington's  Right-hand  Man. 
— Champion  of  the  Federalists. — Burr's  Career  in  the  Revolution. — His  Notorious  Debauchery. — Fi- 
nally Dismissed  by  Washington. — Becomes  Vice-President  in   1800. — Deadly  Personal  Hatreds. — 

.  Criticisms  on  Burr  by  His  Opponents. — Challenge  Sent  to  Hamilton. — Pacific  Explanations  Spurned. 
— Forced  to  Meet  Burr. — Makes  His  Will  in  Anticipation. — Sings  at  a  Banquet  the  Day  Before. — 
Arrival  of  the  Fatal  Hour. —  Hamilton's  Mortal  Wound. — What  He  Said  of  the  Event. — Conversation 
Before  Dying — Partakes  of  the  Communion. — His  Testimony  Against  Dueling. — Heartless  Conduct 
of  Burr. — A  Fugitive  and  an  Outlaw. 


Ccesar  to  Antony  • 


*'Lpt  the  old  ruffian  know 

1  have  iiuuiv  olher  ways  to  die;  meantime, 

Laugh  at  his  challenge."— Ant.  &  Cleo.,  Act.  4,  Sc.  1. 


Y  far  the  most  exciting  personal  transac- 
tion that  occurred  among  the  first  genera- 
tion of  American  statesmen  and  politi- 
cians, was  the  duel  fought  in  July,  1804, 
between  Colonel  Aaron  Burr,  at  that  time 
vice-president  of  the  United  States,  and 
General  Alexander  Hamilton,  formerly 
secretary  of  the  treasury,  during  the  ad- 
ministration of  Washington  ;  and  in  which 
duel  Hamilton  fell  mortally  wounded,  his 
country  being  thus  deprived  of  its  most 
brilliant  ornament. 

Of  transcendent  abilities  and  unsullied 
official  integrity,  it  may  be  said  of  the 
victim  in  this  murderous  tragedy,  that  no 
one  labored  more  efficiently  than  he,  in  the 
organization  of  the  present  federal  govern- 
ment. At  the  age  of  nineteen  lie  entered 
the  revolutionary  army,  and  in  1777  was 
appointed  aid-de-camp  of  General  Wash- 
ington,with  the  rank  of  lieutenant-colonel. 
MONUMENT  TO  ALEXANDER  HA.MiLTON.  In  tlils  capaclty  liB  scrved  duHug  the  re- 

mainder of  the  war,  and  at  the  siege  of  Yorktown  led  in  person  the  detachment 
that  carried  by  assault  one  of  the  British  outworks.  When  his  military  services 
were  no   longer  required,  he  commenced    the  study  of  the  law,  entered  into  its  prac- 


190 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


tice  in  New  York,  and  soon  rose  to  dis- 
tinction. In  1782,  he  was  chosen  a 
member  of  congress  ;  in  1787,  a  member  of 
the  convention  that  framed  the  federal 
constihition.  Of  this  work,  as  profound  as 
any,  and  more  generally  intelligible  than 
most,  that  have  been  written  on  the  science 
of  government,  the  larger  portion  pro- 
ceeded from  the  pen  of  Hamilton.  In 
political  life,  he  was  one  of  the  strongest 
champions  of  the  party  which  had  Wash- 
ington at  its  head.  In  1789,  he  was  placed 
in  the  cabinet,  as  secretary  of  the  treasury, 
and  while  in  this  position  rendered  the 
most  efficient  service  to  his  country,  by 
the  establishment  of  an  admirable  system 
of  national  finance.  During  the  insurrec- 
tion in  Pennsylvania,  when  the  people  of 
the  western  counties  took  up  arms  against 
the  general  government,  Hamilton  was 
placed  at  the  head  of  the  government  force 
destined  to  act  against  them  ;  the  disturb- 
ances being  quelled  without  bloodshed,  he 
resigned  his  post.  His  last  appearance  in 
military  character  was  again  by  the  side 


Aaron  Burr  was  one  year  the  senior  of 
Hamilton,  in  point  of  age.  His  father  was 
the  Rev.  Aaron  Burr,  the  learned  and  de- 
vout  president  of  Princeton  college,  and 


of  Washington,  in  1798,  as  second  in  com- 
mand of  the  army,  which  was  to  be  called 
into  service  in  case  of  hostilities  with 
France. 


i^^f^ 


his  mother  the  daughter  of  that  eminent 
divine,  Jonathan  Edwards.  Before  Burr 
had  reached  his  third  year,  however,  he 
was  an  orphan.  When  twelve  years  of 
age  he  entered  college,  graduating  at  six- 
teen with  the  highest  reputation.  In 
1775,  while  a  student  of  law,  he  joined  the 
American  army  under  Washington,  and 
such  was  his  ardor  in  his  country's  cause, 
that  he  joined  Arnold  as  a  volunteer  in 
the  expedition  against  Quebec.  After  his 
arrival  there  he  was  appointed  aid-de-camp 
to  Montgomery,  and  was  by  the  side  of 
that  brave  officer  when  he  fell.  Subse- 
quently, in  1776,  he  was  received  by 
Washington  as  one  of  his  military  family, 
but  was  soon  cast  off  by  that  stern  moral- 
ist in  consequence  of  his  debauchery. 
This  act  of  Washington,  Burr  never  for- 
gave. His  unquestioned  military  talents, 
however,  secured  for  him  the  high  position 
of  lieutenant-colonel  in  1777,  which  he  re- 
tained until  1779,  when  he  was  obliged  to 
relinquish  it  on  account  of  ill-health.  De- 
voting himself  to  law,  he  early  became  one 
of  the  greatest  lawyers  in  New  York,  of 
which  state  he  was  made  attorney-general 
in  1789.  From  1791  to  1797,  he  was  a 
United  States  senator.     In  1800,  he  was  a 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


191 


candidate  for  the  presidency,  and  received 
the  same  number  of  votes  as  Thomas  Jef- 
ferson ;  tlie  choice  thus  went  to  congress, 
which,  on  the  thirty-sixth  ballot,  elected 
Jefferson  president  and  Burr  vice-presi- 
dent. In  his  personal  appearance.  Burr 
is  described  as  having  been,  in  the  prime 
of  his  manhood,  a  small  but  well-formed, 
fair-complexioned,  fascinating  man;  liis 
face  was  handsome,  by  some  described  as 
striking,  and  eyes  jet-blaclc  and  uncom- 
monly brilliant  and  piercing.  In  public 
he  had  an  air  of  eminent  authority,  but  in 
the  drawing-room  his  manner  was  singu- 
larly graceful,  gentle,  and  winning.  He 
was  a  wit,  a  beau,  a  good  scliolar,  a  pol- 
ished gentleman,  an  unscrupulous  lawyer 
and  politician,  and  a  libertine  in  morals. 
But  whoever  would  read,  in  all  its  varied 
detail,  the  life  of  this  wonderful  man, 
must  consult  the  biographies  of  him  by 
Parton  and  Davis. 

The  animosity  between  Burr  and  Ham- 
ilton, as  the  leaders,  respectively',  of  the 
two  great  political  parties,  was  very  bitter. 
The  history  of  this  quarrel,  in  its  immedi- 
ate  bearing  upon  the   fatal   rencontre  in 
which   it  finally  culminated,  is  somewhat 
differently  characterized  b}^  various  biogra- 
phers, and  perhaps  not  always  impartiall3^ 
Reviewing   the    matter  from  the   date  of 
Washington's  death,  the  fact  is  brought  to 
notice,  that  such  was  the  number  of  seced- 
ers  from  the  federal  party  after  that  un- 
looked-for event,  that  their  opponents  re- 
solved to  adopt  the  bold  policy  of  running 
two  presidential  candidates,  in  order  thus 
to  secure  at  least  the   election   of  a  vice- 
president,   and    in   this    way,    although    a 
choice    by  the  electoral  colleges   Avas  not 
effected,  the  two  candidates  of  the  demo- 
cratic party  were  brought  before  the  house 
of  representatives  with  claims  apparently 
equal.     In  the  vote  of  this  body  by  states, 
it  soon  appeared  that  the  federal  members 
had  it  in  their  power  to  determine  which 
of  the  two,  Jefferson  or  Burr,  should  be 
president.      Many    violent    federal    parti- 
sans were    inclined    to  throw  a  brand  of 
discord  into  the  republican  party,  by  con- 
ferring   the   dignity  on  Burr;   and  he  is 


accused  of  intriguing  with   them  for  the 
purpose. 

It  is  believed  that  Burr,  from  this  time 
forth,  bfcaine  Hamilton's  mortal  foe,  and 
watched  for  an  occasion  to  get  rid  of  such 
a  rival.  In  the  careful  account  given  by 
Hildreth,  of  the  subsequent  progress  of 
this  feud, — a  portion  of  which  is  here  cited, 
— he  mentions,  jirimarily,  the  two  well- 
known  letters  written  by  Dr.  Cooper,  a 
zealous  partisan,  in  one  of  which  it  is 
alleged  that  Hamilton  had  spoken  of  Burr 
as  a  dangerous  man,  who  ought  not  to  be 
trusted  with  the  reins  of  government.  In 
the  other  letter,  after  repeating  the  above 
statement.  Cooper  added  that  he  could  de- 
tail a  still  more  despicable  opinion  which 
General  Hamilton  had  expressed  of  Mr. 
Burr. 

Upon  this  latter  passage,  the  historian 
asserts.  Burr  seized  as  the  means  of  forcing 
Hamilton  into  a  duel.  For  his  agent  and 
assistant  therein  he  selected  William  P. 
Van  Ness,  a  young  lawyer,  one  of  his  most 
attached  partisans,  and  not  less  dark,  de- 
signing, cool,  and  implacable  than  himself. 
Van  Ness  Avas  sent  to  Hamilton  with  a 
copy  of  Cooper's  printed  letter,  and  a  note 
from  Burr,  insisting  upon  a  prompt  and 
unqualified  acknowledgment  or  denial  of 
the  use  of  any  expressions  which  would 
warrant  Cooj^er's  assertions. 

Hamilton  expressed  a  perfect  readiness  to 
avow  or  disavow  an_y  specific  opinion  which 
he  might  be  charged  with  having  uttered  ; 
but  added  that  he  never  would  consent  to  be 
interrogated  generally  as  to  whether  he  had 
ever  said  anj-thing  in  the  course  of  fifteen 
years  of  political  competition  to  justify  in- 
ferences Avhich  others  might  have  drawn, 
thus  exposing  his  candor  and  sincerit}'  to 
injurious  imjiutations  on  the  part  of  all 
who  might  have  misapprehended  him. 

''  More  than  this,"  said  Hamilton  in  the 
conclusion  of  his  letter  to  Burr,  "can  not 
fitly  be  expected  of  me;  especially,  it  can 
not  be  reasonably  expected  that  I  shall 
enter  into  any  explanations  upon  a  basis 
so  vague  as  that  you  have  adopted.  I 
trust,  on  more  reflection,  you  will  see  the 
matter  in  the  same  light.     If  not,  I  can 


192 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


only  regret  the   circumstance,   and   must 
abide  the  consequences." 

Burr's  curt,  rude,  and  offensive  reply 
began  with  intimating  that  Hamilton's 
letter  was  greatly  deficient  in  that  sincer- 
ity and  delicacy  which  he  i>rofessed  so 
much  to  value.  The  epithet  in  question, 
in  the  common  understanding  of  it,  im- 
plied dishonor.  It  having  been  affixed  to 
Burr's  name  upon  Hamilton's  authorit}', 
he  was  bound  to  say  whether  he  had  au- 
thorized it,  either  directly,  or  by  uttering 
expressions  or  opinions  derogatory  to 
Burr's  honor. 

It  was  apparent  from  this  letter,  and  it 
was  subsequently  distinctly  stated  by  Van 
Ness,  that  what  Burr  required  was  a  gen- 
eral disavowal  on  the  part  of  Hamilton,  of 
any  intention,  in  any  conversation  he 
might  ever  have  held,  to  convey  impres- 
sions derogatory  to  the  honor  of  Burr. 
Desirous  to  deprive  Burr  of  any  possible 
excuse  for  persisting  in  his  murderous 
designs,  Hamilton  caused  a  2:)aper  to  be 
transmitted  to  him,  through  Pendleton,  a 
brother  lawyer,  who  acted  as  his  friend  in 
this  matter,  to  the  effect  that,  if  properly 
addressed — for  Burr's  second  letter  was 
considered  too  insulting  to  admit  of  a  reply 
— he  should  be  willing  to  state  that  the 
conversation  alluded  to  by  Dr.  Cooper,  so 
far  as  he  could  recall  it,  was  wholly  in  re- 
lation to  politics,  and  did  not  touch  upon 
Burr's  private  character ;  nor  should  he 
hesitate  to  make  an  equally  prompt  avowal 
or  disavowal  as  to  an}'  other  j^articular  and 
specific  conversation  concerning  which  he 
might  be  questioned. 

But  as  Burr's  only  object  was  to  find  a 
pretext  for  a  challenge, — since  he  never 
could  have  expected  the  general  disavowal 
he  demanded,  this  offer  was  pronounced 
unsatisfactory  and  evasive ;  and  again,  a 
second  time,  disavowing  in  the  same  breath 
the  charge  made  against  him  of  predotor- 
mined  hostility,  Burr  requested  Van  Ness 
to  deliver  a  challenjje. 

The  eleventh  of  July,  at  seven  in  the 
morning,  was  the  time  mutually  agreed 
upon  for  the  duel ;  the  place,  Weehawken, 
New  Jersey,  opposite  the  city  of  New  York ; 


the  weapons  to  be  pistols,  and  the  distance 
ten  paces.  In  the  meantime,  Hamilton  and 
Burr  met  once  more  at  the  convivial  board, 
namely,  at  the  annual  banquet  of  the  Soci- 
ety of  the  Cincinnati,  of  which  Hamilton 
was  president  and  Burr  a  member.  It  is 
related  that  on  this  occasion  Hamilton  was 
cheerful,  and  at  times  merry.  He  was 
urged,  as  the  feast  wore  awa}',  to  sing  the 
only  song  he  ever  sang  or  knew,  the 
famous  old  ballad  of  "The  Drum."  It 
was  thought  afterward,  that  he  M'as  more 
reluctant  than  usual  to  comply  with  the 
company's  request ;  but  after  some  delay, 
he  said,  ''  Well,  you  shall  have  it,"  and 
sang  it  in  his  best  manner,  greatly  to  the 
delight  of  the  old  soldiers  by  whom  he 
was  surrounded.  Burr,  on  the  contrary, 
was  reserved,  and  mingled  little  with  the 
company,  and  held  no  intercourse  what- 
ever with  the  jn-esident.  He  was  never  a 
fluent  man,  and  was  generally,  in  the  soci- 
ety of  men,  more  a  listener  than  a  talker. 
On  this  occasion,  his  silence  Avas,  there- 
fore, the  less  remarked ;  yet  it  was  re- 
marked. It  was  observed,  too,  that  he 
paid  no  attention  to  Hamilton's  conversa- 
tion, nor,  indeed,  looked  toward  him,  until 
he  struck  up  his  song,  when  Burr  turned 
toward  him,  and,  leaning  upon  the  table, 
looked  at  the  singer  until  the  song  was 
done. 

The  fatal  morning  came.  Colonel  Burr 
arrived  first  on  the  ground,  as  had  been 
previously  agreed.  He  deliberately  took 
off  his  coat,  surveyed  the  ground,  and 
then  cleared  away  the  bushes,  limbs  of 
trees,  etc.  When  General  Hamilton  ar- 
rived, the  parties  exchanged  salutations, 
and  the  seconds  proceeded  to  make  their 
arrangements.  They  measured  the  dis- 
tance, full  ten  paces,  and  cast  lots  for  the 
choice  of  position,  as  also  to  determine  by 
whom  the  word  should  be  given,  both  of 
wliich  fell  to  the  seconds  of  Hamilton. 
The}'  then  proceeded  to  load  the  pistols  in 
each  other's  presence,  after  which  the 
parties  took  their  stations. 

The    gentleman    who    was   to   give   the 

word  now    explained    to    the    parties    the 

I  rules  which  were  to  govern  them  in  firing. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


193 


SCEXE  OF  THE  BURR  AXD  HAMILTOX  DUEL,  ■V\rEEHA'mvEX. 


which  were  as  follows  :  '  The  parties  being 
placed  at  their  stations,  the  second  who 
gives  the  word  shall  ask  them  whether 
they  are  ready;  being  answered  in  the 
affirmative,  he  shall  say  Present ;  after 
this,  the  parties  shall  present  and  fire 
when  they  please.  If  one  fiies  before 
the  other,  the  opposite  second  shall  say, 
One,  two,  three,  fire  ; — and  he  shall  then 
fire,  or  lose  his  fire.'  He  then  asked  if 
they  were  jirepared ;  being  answered  in 
the  affirmative,  he  gave  the  word  Present, 
as  had  been  agreed  on,  and  both  parties 
presented  and  fired  in  succession.  The 
fire  of  Burr  took  effect ;  Hamilton  sprang 
upon  his  toes  with  a  convulsive  movement, 
13 


reeled  a  little  toward  the  heights,  at  which 
moment  he  involuntarily  discharged  his 
pistol,  and  then  fell  headlong  upon  his  face, 
and  remained  motionless  upon  the  ground. 
His  ball  rustled  among  the  branches,  seven 
feet  above  the  head  of  his  antagonist,  and 
four  feet  wide  of  him.  Burr  heard  it, 
looked  up,  and  saw  where  it  had  severed  a 
twig.  Looking  at  Hamilton,  he  beheld 
him  falling,  and  advanced  towards  him 
with  a  manner  and  gesture  that  apjieared 
to  be  expressive  of  regret,  but  without 
speaking  turned  about  and  witlidrew, 
being  urged  from  the  field  )iy  his  friend. 
No  further  communication  took  place  be- 
tween the  principals,  and  the  barge  that 


194 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


carried  Colonel  Burr  immediately  left  the 
Jer.sey  shore  for  Xew  York. 

Hamilton  was  at  once  borne  awa}-  ten- 
derly in  the  arms  of  Pendleton,  and  his 
necessities  ministered  to  hy  Dr.  Hosack. 
He  had,  at  this  moment,  just  strength 
enough  to  say,  "This  is  a  mortal  wound, 
doctor  ; "  when  he  sank  away,  and  became 
to  all  appearance  lifeless.  "My  vision  io 
indistinct,"  were  his  first  words.  Soon 
after  recovering  his  sight,  he  happened  to 
cast  his  eye  upon  the  case  of  pistols,  and 
observing  the  one  he  had  used  lying  on 
the  outside,  he  said : 

"  Take  care  of  that  pistol ;  it  is  undis- 
charged, and  still  cocked ;  it  may  go  o'.'l 
and  do  harm  ; — Pendleton  knows  (attempt- 
ing to  turn  his  head  towards  him)  that  I 
did  not  intend  to  fire  at  him." 

"  Yes,  I  have  already  made  Dr.  Hosack 
acquainted  with  j^our  determination  as  to 
that,"  replied  Pendleton. 

On  approaching  the  shore,  he  said,  "  Let 
Mrs.  Hamilton  be  immediately  sent  for  ; 
let  the  event  be  gradually  broken  to  her ; 
but  give  her  hopes."  His  friend,  IMr. 
Ba^'ard,  stood  on  the  wharf  in  great  agita- 
tion, and,  on  seeing  Hamilton  lying  in  the 
bottom  of  tlie  boat,  he  threw  up  his  arms 
and  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears  and  lamen- 
tation. Hamilton  alone  appeared  tranquil 
and  composed.  On  being  put  to  bed,  a 
consultation  of  physicians  was  held,  who 
united  in  the  opinion  that  there  was  no 
chance  of  liis  recovery.  General  Key,  the 
French  consul,  also  had  the  goodness  to 
invite  the  surgeons  of  the  French  frigates 
then  in  New  York  harbor,  as  the}'  had  had 
much  experience  in  gun-shot  wounds,  to 
render  their  assistance.  They  immedi- 
ately came,  but  their  opinion  was  unani- 
mous as  to  the  hopelessness  of  the  case. 
The  ball  had  stru(;k  the  second  or  third 
false  rib,  and  fractured  it  about  the  middle ; 
it  then  passed  through  tlic'  liver  and 
the  diaphragm,  and  as  far  as  was  sub- 
sequently ascertained,  lodged  in  the  first 
or  second  lumbar  vertebra,  the  latter  being 
considerably  s])lintered,  so  that  the  spic- 
ulfE  were  perceptible  to  the  touch  of  the 
finger. 


The  news  of  Hamilton's  fall,  and  jDrob- 
ably  speedy  death,  by  a  duel  with  the  vice- 
jjresident  of  the  United  States,  jiaralyzed 
the  whole  nation,  as  the  shocking  intelli- 
gence sped  itself  over  the  country.  In 
New  York,  especiall}'-,  bulletins,  hourly 
changed,  kept  the  citj-  in  agitation.  All 
the  circumstances  of  the  catastrophe  were 
told,  and  re-told,  at  every  corner.  The 
thrilling  scenes  that  were  passing  at  the 
bedside  of  the  dying  man,  the  consultation 
of  the  physicians,  the  arrival  of  the  stricken 
family,  Mrs.  Hamilton's  overwhelming 
sorrow,  the  resignation  and  calm  dignity 
of  the  illustrious  sufferer,  his  broken  slum- 
bers during  the  night,  the  jiiteous  specta- 
cle of  the  seven  children  entering  together 
the  awful  apartment, — all  these  produced 
an  impression  on  the  public  that  can  onl}-- 
be  imagined. 

At  General  Hamilton's  request.  Bishop 
Moore  and  Rev.  Dr.  Mason  visited  him  at 
his  bedside.  To  the  former  he  said  :  "  My 
dear  sir,  you  perceive  my  unfortunate  sit- 
uation, and  no  doubt  have  been  made 
acquainted  with  the  circumstances  which 
led  to  it.  It  is  my  desire  to  receive  the 
communion  at  your  hands.  I  hope  you 
will  not  conceive  there  is  any  imj)ropriety 
in  my  request.  It  has  for  some  time  past 
been  the  wish  of  my  heart,  and  it  was  my 
intention  to  take  an  cavly  opportunity  of 
uniting  myself  to  the  church  b\-  the  recep- 
tion of  that  holy  ordinance."  Bishop 
Moore  observed  to  him,  that  he  must  be 
A'ery  sensible  of  the  delicate  and  trying 
situation  in  which,  as  a  minister,  he  was 
then  jdaced ;  that  iKnvever  desirous  he 
might  be  to  afford  consolation  to  a  fellow 
mortal  in  distress,  still  it  was  his  duty  as 
an  ambassador  of  the  gospel,  to  hold  up  the 
law  of  God  as  ])aramount  to  all  other  law, 
and  that,  therefore,  he  must  unequivocally 
condemn  the  practice  which  had  brought 
him  to  his  present  iinha])py  condition. 
Hamilton  acknowledged  the  projjriet}'  of 
these  sentiments,  and  added,  ^' I  have  no 
ill-will  against  Colonel  Burr.  I  met  him 
ivith  a  fixed  determination  to  do  him  no 
harm.  I  forgive  all  tha,t  happened.''^ 
After  some   other   religious    conversation 


GREAT  AND  ^lEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


195 


incident  to  the  occasion,  he  received  the 
sacrament  with  great  devotion,  expressing 
strong  conlidence  in  divine  mercy.  In  his 
interview  with  Dr.  Mason,  he  exhihited 
the  same  spiritual  conviction,  and  repeated 
the  emphatic  testimony  he  liad  given  to 
Bishop  Moore,  against  the  barbarous 
custom  of  dueling. 

The  next  day,  Thursday,  at  eleven 
Vclock,  being  about  thirty  liours  after 
receiving  the  fatal  wound,  Hamilton  em- 
braced his  wife  for  the  last  time,  then 
calmly  composed  himself  to  die,  and  ex- 
pired without  a  shudder  or  a  groan,  in  the 
prime  of  his  nianhood,  being  forty-seven 
years  of  age. 

The  death  of  this  most  illustrious  states- 
man was  universally  deplored,  as  a  na- 
tional calamity  second  only  to  the  death  of 
Washington  himself ;  and,  indeed,  on  ac- 
count of  the  tragical  circumstances  under 
which  the  great  patriot  was  brought  to 
his  end,  the  excitement  produced  through- 
out the  country  was,  if  possible,  more 
startling  and  profound  than  that  which 
followed  the  announcement  of  Washing- 
ton's decease.  In  the  city  of  New  York, 
the  most  imposing  funeral  ceremony  ever 
witnessed  in  America  revealed  the  unex- 
ampled grief  that  burdened  the  public 
mind.  All  business  was  suspended,  the 
bells  tolled  in  solemn  requiem,  public  meet- 
ings of  the  various  societies  were  held,  the 
ships  in  the  harbor  hoisted  their  flags  at 
half-mast,  and  sorrow  was  depicted  on 
every  countenance. 

The  indignation  against  Burr  knew  no 
bounds.  His  fixed  determination  to  bring 
Hamilton  within  range  of  his  pistol,  feel- 
ing "  sure  of  being  able  to  kill  him," 
caused  his  act  to  be  branded  as  willful 
murder,  and  an  indictment  was  dulj'  found 
against  him ;  but  in  a  few  days  he  fled,  an 
outlaw  and  an  outcast,  and  thus  eluded 
justice.  Burr's  execrable  heartlessness 
may  be  judged  of,  by  the  note  written  by 
him  to  Mr.  Allston,  his  son-in-law,  in  which 


lie  said:  ''General  Hamilton  died  yester- 
day. The  malignant  federalists  or  tories, 
and  the  embittered  Clintonians,  unite  in 
endeavoring  to  excite  ])ublic  sympathy  in 
his  favor  and  indignation  against  his  an- 
tagonist. Thousands  of  absurd  falsehoods 
are  circulated  with  industry.  The  most 
illiberal  means  are  2)racticed  in  order  to 
produce  excitement,  and  for  the  moment 
with  effect." 

One  week  before  the  time  fixed  upon  for 
the  duel,  Hamilton  prepared  a  letter  to  his 
wife,  to  be  handed  to  her  in  case  of  his 
death.  In  this  affecting  epistle,  he  assures 
her  that  he  had  striven  by  all  honorable 
means  to  avoid  the  meeting,  and  expects 
to  fall  in  it;  he  entreats  her  forgiveness 
for  the  calamity  his  death  would  bring 
upon  her,  and  conjures  her  to  meet  the 
blow  in  calm  submission  to  providence. 

Hamilton's  widow,  a  w^oman  of  rare 
excellence  and  dignity,  survived  him  some 
fifty  years.  Once  only  did  she  see  her 
husband's  murderer,  the  circumstances  of 
this  occasion  being  related  as  follows :  In 
the  3'ear  1822,  she  was  traveling  from 
New  York  to  Albany,  on  one  of  the 
boats  pl_ying  the  Hudson.  The  com- 
pany had  been  summoned  to  dinner. 
When  Mrs.  Hamilton  had  almost  reached 
her  seat  in  the  dining-saloon,  on  rais- 
ing her  eyes  she  perceived  Aaron  Burr 
standing  directly  opposite  to  her,  with 
only  the  narrow  width  of  the  table  between 
them.  The  shock  was  too  much  for  her 
system, — she  uttered  a  loud  scream,  fell, 
and  was  carried  in  a  fainting  state  from 
the  apartment.  As  soon  as  she  recovered, 
she  insisted  on  being  set  on  shore  at  the 
first  landing-place,  refusing  to  journey 
further  in  the  same  vessel  with  Burr.  It 
is  said,  that,  after  the  removal  of  Mrs. 
Hamilton  from  the  dining  saloon.  Burr 
deliberately  sat  down  and  ate  a  hearty 
dinner  with  the  utmost  composure.  This 
story,  however,  wears  an  air  of  improba- 
bility. 


XIX. 
TOTAL   SOLAR  ECLIPSE   AT  MID-DAY.— 1806. 


The  Darkness  of  Night  Falls  upon  the  Eartli. — Stars  and  Planets  in  Full  Ra(lianc3  — Magnificent  Spec- 
tacle of  the  Glittering  Corona  around  the  Moon  and  the  Brilliant  Rosy  Protuberances  Flaming  from 
the  Sun. — Splendor  of  the  Returning  Nigiit. — Similar  Eclipse  in  18G'J. — Millions  of  Faces  Turned 
Upward  — The  Phenomenon  Viewed  with  Curiosity,  Wonder,  and  Absorhed  Delight. — Remarkably 
Fine  Weather. — Serene  and  Cloudless  Heavens. — Business  Pursuits  Abandoned. — The  Moon  Crossing 
the  Sun. — Distinctness  of  the  Lunar  Orb. — Grand,  Dark,  Majestic,  Mighty — Total  Obscurity  Some 
Five  Minutes. — Appearance  of  Nature — Sensations  Produced  in  the  Mind. — Involuntary  Exclama- 
tions.— Effect  on  Birds  and  Animals. — Triumphs  of  Astronomical  Science  — Exquibitely-Constructed 
Instruments  — Revelations  of  tiie  Spectroscope. — Great  Thermometrical  Changes. — Spots  on  the  Sun 
Examined. — Openings  in  tiie  Moon. — I'eculiar  Color  of  that  Body. — Its  Dark  and  Dismal  Shadows. — 
Search  for  New  Stars. — Meteors 'mid  Earth  and  Moon — Climax  of  the  Impressive  Scene. 


"The  sun's  rim  dips  ;  the  stapi  ruxTi  out  I 

TVitli  ouu  Btride  coined  the  dark  1  " — Culkridoe. 


I]\rPLE  and  well  known  though  the  fact  may  he,  according  to  the  ex- 
planations of  astronomical  science,  that  a  solar  eclij)se  is  caused  by  the 
intervention  of  the  moon  between  the  sun  and  the  earth  during  the 
daytime,  and  that  the  effect  of  such  interposition  is  to  obstruct  the 
sun's  rays — the  light  being  turned  into  darkness  while  the  phenome- 
non lasts — a  total  solar  eclipse  is,  without  doubt,  the  most  sublime  and  awe-inspiring 
spectacle  upon  which  the  eye  of  man  is  permitted  to  gaze.  By  far  the  most  remarkable 
exhibition  of  this  kind,  was  that  which  occurred  June  IG,  180G,  when  the  sun  in  the 
northern  states  was  totally  eclipsed  nearly  five  minutes,  about  half  an  hour  before  noon, 
the  width  of  the  moon's  shadow  being  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  or  about 
seventy-five  on  each  side  of  the  central  line.  Since  1806,  only  one  total  eclipse  of  the 
sun  occurred  in  the  Atlantic  States,  namely  in  South  Carolina  and  Georgia,  November 
30,  1834;  but  the  eclipse  of  June  IG,  180G,  is  regarded  by  astronomers  as  the  most 
memorable  ever  known  in  the  United  States, — that  of  August  7,  18G9,  being  the  next 
in  grandeur  and  interest. 

The  accounts  given  by  Chancellor  De  Witt,  of  New  York,  Dr.  Bowditch,  of  Massa- 
chusetts, and  otiiers,  of  the  phenomenon  of  180G,  show  that  its  approach  was  most  anx- 
iously watched,  and,  as  it  was  to  be  seen  all  over  Europe  and  North  America,  the  gaze 
of  the  people  of  both  hemispheres  was,  on  that  day,  simultaneously  directed  toward  the 
great  luminary  and  center  of  the  physical  system.  Some  of  the  mo.^t  remarkable  observ- 
ations made  by  Dr.  Bowditch,  of  Salem,  Mass.,  will  here  be  given. 

Fortunately  for  the  interests  of  science,  the  day  was  one  of  remarkably  fine  weather, 
scarcely  a  cloud  being  visible  in  any  j)art  of  the  heavens.     An  assistant  was  seated 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


197 


near  the  doctor,  who  counted  the  seconds 
from  the  chronometer,  thus  enabling  Dr. 
Bowditdi  to  mark  down  witli  a  ])encil  the 
time  when  the  first  impression  was  made 
on  the  sun's  limb,  without  taking  his  eye 
fi'om  the  telescope  till  four  or  five  seconds 
had  elapsed,  and  tlu'  eclipse  had  sensibly 
increased.  As  the  eclipse  advanced,  there 
did  not  appear  to  be  so  great  a  diminution 
of  the  light  as  was  generally  expected,  and 
it  was  not  until  the  sun  was  nearly  cov- 
ered, that  the  darkness  was  very  sensible. 
At  thirty-seven  minutes  and  thirty  seconds 
past  eleven  o'olock,  the  sun's  surface  was 
wholly  covered.  The  last  ray  of  light  from 
the  sun's  limb  disappeared  instantaneously. 
The  whole  of  the  moon  was  then  seen  sur- 
rounded by  a  luminous  appearance  of  con- 
siderable extent,  such  as  had  generally 
been  noticed  in  total  eclipses  of  the  sun. 
This  luminosity,  with  a  twilight  bright- 
ness round  the  horizon,  prevented  the 
darkness  from  being  any  greater  than  it 
was,  during  the  time  that  the  sun's  sur- 
face remained  wholly  covered.  The  de- 
gree of  light  can  be  estimated,  on  such  an 
occasion,  by  the  number  of  stars  visible  to 
the  naked  eye  ;  those  noticed  at  this  time 
were  Capella,  Aldebaran,  Sirius,  Procyon, 
the  three  bright  stars  in  the  belt  of  Orion, 


TOTAL  SOLAR  ECLIPSE  IN  1806. 

and  the  star  a  in  its  shoulder.  Venus 
and  Mars  Avere  also  visible.  A  candle  had 
been  provided  to  assist  in  reading  off  the 
seconds  from  the  chronometer,  but,  though 
it  was  not  found  necessary  in  the  garden 
where  these  observations  were  made,  it 
would  have  been  in  the  house  adjoining. 


As  the  time  drew  near  for  witnessing  the 
end  of  the  total  darkness,  there  was  no- 
ticed a  visible  increase  of  light  in  the  at- 
mosphere for  about  two  seconds  before  any 
part  of  the  sun's  limb  was  visible  in  the 
telescope;  but  at  thirty-two  minutes  and 
eighteen  seconds  past  eleven  o'clock — tlie 
time  noted  as  that  of  the  end  of  total 
darkness,  —  the  light  burst  forth  with 
great  splendor.  After  this,  the  light  aj)- 
peared  to  increase  much  faster  than  it 
had  decreased,  and  in  a  short  time  it 
was  as  light  as  in  a  common  cloudy  day, 
the  degree  of  light  continually  increas- 
ing, of  course,  as  the  eclipse  drew  to  a 
close. 

The  impressions  made  by  such  an  exhi- 
bition, upon  different  minds,  are  not  the 
least  interesting  points,  in  a  narrative  like 
this.  Mr.  Cooper,  the  novelist,  though 
but  a  3'oiith  at  the  time  of  the  eclipse,  was 
so  enthusiastic  an  observer  of  the  specta- 
cle, that,  twenty-five  years  after  the  event, 
he  wrote  a  minute  account  of  what  he 
saw  and  how  he  felt  during  the  wonderful 
occurrence.  Mr.  Cooper  states  that,  as  he 
and  the  other  spectators  in  his  comjiany 
first  discerned,  through  their  glasses,  the 
oval  form  of  the  moon  darkening  the 
sun's  light,  an  exclamation  of  delight,  al- 
most triumphant,  burst  involuntarily  from 
the  lips  of  all.  Gradually,  and  at  first 
quite  imperceptibly  to  the  sight,  that  dark 
and  mysterious  sphere  gained  upon  the 
orb  of  light.  As  yet  (continues  Mr. 
Cooper),  there  was  no  change  perceptible 
in  the  sunlight  falling  upon  lake  and 
mountain ;  the  familiar  scene  wore  its 
usual  smiling  aspect,  bright  and  glowing 
as  on  other  days  of  June.  The  iieoi)le, 
however,  were  now  crowding  into  the 
streets, — their  usual  labors  were  abandoned 
— forgotten  for  the  moment, — and  all  faces 
were  turned  upw^ard.  Gradually  a  fifth, 
and  even  a  fourth,  of  the  sun's  disc  be- 
came obscured,  and  still  the  unguarded 
eye  could  not  endure  the  flood  of  light. 
The  noonday  heat,  however,  began  to 
lessen,  and  something  of  the  coolness  of 
early  morning  returned  to  the  valley. 
Soon,  a  somber,  yellowish,  unnatural  color- 


198 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ing  was  shed  ovor  the  country.  A  great 
change  had  taken  phice.  The  trees  on  the 
distant  heights  had  lost  their  verdure  and 
their  airy  character,  and  were  taking  tlie 
outline  of  dark  pictures  graven  upon  an 
unfamiliar  sky. 

The  startling  effect  of  such  an  ahnormal 
transition    in    nature,    upon    animals   and 


PROGRESS  OF  THE  SOLAU  ECLIPSE. 

fowls,  and  even  upon  human  beings,  has 
sometimes  been  described  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  excite  well-grounded  suspi- 
cions of  exaggeration,  in  the  minds  of 
those  persons  to  whom  has  been  denied 
the  opportunity  of  personal  observation. 
But  Mr.  Cooper  states  that  "all  living 
creatures  seemed  thrown  into  a  state  of 
agitation.  The  birds  were  fluttering  to 
and  fro,  in  great  excitement;  they  seemed 
to  mistrust  that  this  was  not  the  gradual 
approach  of  evening,  and  were  undecided 
in  their  movements.  Even  the  dogs  be- 
came uneasy,  and  drew  closer  to  their  mas- 
ters. The  eager,  joyous  look  of  interest 
and  curiosity,  which  earlier  in  the  morning 
had  appeared  in  almost  every  countenance, 
was  now  changed  to  an  expression  of  won- 
der, or  anxiety,  or  thoughtful ness,  accord- 
ing to  the  individual  character.  Every 
house  now  gave  up  its  tenants.  As  the 
light  failed  more  and  more  with  every  pass- 
ing second,  the  children  came  flocking 
about  their  mothers  in  terror.  The  women 
themselves  were  looking  about  uneasily  for 
their  husbands.  The  men  were  very  gen- 
erally silent  and  grave.  Many  a  laborer 
left  his  employment  to  be  near  his  wife 
and  children,  as  the  dimness  and  darkness 


increased.  It  was  one  of  those  entirely  un- 
clouded days,  less  rare  in  America  than  in 
Europe.  The  steadily-waning  light,  the 
gradual  approach  of  darkness,  became  the 
more  impressive  as  we  observed  this  abso- 
lutely transjiarent  state  of  the  heavens.  The 
birds,  which  a  quarter  of  an  hour  earlier 
had  been  fluttei'ing  about  in  great  agita- 
tion, seemed  now  to  be  convinced  that 
night  was  at  hand.  Swallows  were  dimly 
seen  dropping  into  the  chimneys,  the 
martins  returned  to  their  little  boxes,  the 
pigeons  flew  home  to  their  dove-cots,  and 
through  the  open  door  of  a  small  barn  we 
saw  the  fowls  going  to  roost.  The  usual 
flood  of  sunlight  had  now  become  so  much 
weakened,  that  we  could  look  upward  long, 
and  steadily,  without  the  least  pain.  The 
sun  appeared  like  a  young  moon  of  three 
or  four  da3-s  old,  though  of  course  with  a 
larger  and  more  brilliant  crescent.  One 
after  another,  the  stars  came  into  view, 
more  rapidly  than  in  the  evening  twilight, 
until  perhaps  fifty  stars  appeared  to  us,  in 
a  broad  dark  zone  of  the  heavens,  crown- 
ing the  pines  on  the  western  mountain. 
This  wonderful  vision  of  the  stars,  during 
the  noontide  hours  of  da}-^,  filled  the  spirit 
with  singular  sensations.  Suddenly,  one 
of  my  brothers  shouted  aloud,  "The 
moon  ! "  Quicker  than  thought,  my  eye 
turned  eastward  again,  and  there  floated 
the  moon,  distinctly  apparent,  to  a  degree 
that  Avas  almost  fearful.  The  spherical 
form,  the  character,  the  dignity,  the  sub- 
stance of  the  planet,  were  clearly  revealed, 
as  I  have  never  beheld  them  before,  or 
since.  It  looked  grand,  dark,  majestic, 
and  mighty.  Darkness  like  that  of  early 
night  now  fell  ui)on  the  village.  A  few 
cows,  believing  that  night  had  overtaken 
them,  were  coming  liomeward  from  the 
wild  open  pastures  ;  the  dew  Avas  falling 
perceptibly,  and  the  thermometer  must 
have  fallen  many  degrees  from  the  great 
heat  of  the  morning.  The  lake,  the  hills, 
and  the  buildings  of  the  little  town,  were 
swallowed  up  in  the  darkness.  All  labor 
had  ceased.  The  plaintive  note  of  the 
whippowil  was  distinctly  heard.  A  bat 
came  flitting  about  our  heads.     Many  stars 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


199 


were  now  visible.  At  twelve  minutes  past 
eleven,  tlio  moon  stood  revealed  in  its 
greatest  distinctness — a  vast  bhu-k  oil>,  so 
nearly  obscuring  the  sun  that  the  face  of 
the  great  luminary  was  entirely  and  abso- 
lutely darkened,  though  a  corona  of  rays 
of  light  appeared  beyond.  The  gloom  of 
night  was  upon  us.  A  breathless  intensity 
of  interest  was  felt  by  all.  A  group  of 
silent,  dusky  forms  stood  near  me ;  one 
emotion  appeared  to  govern  all.  Three 
minutes  of  darkness,  all  but  absolute, 
elapsed.  They  appeared  strangely  length- 
ened by  the  intensity  of  feeling,  and  the 
flood  of  overpowering  thought  which  filled 
the  mind.''  Mr.  Cooper  concludes  this 
record  of  his  pleasing  recollections,  by 
stating  some  of  the  appearances  accompa- 
nying the  restoration  of  light,  and  the 
jo,yous  manifestations  on  the  part  of  those 
wlio  witnessed  it. 

The  calculations  made  and  recorded  by 
Bowditch,  show  that  the  beginning  of  the 
eclipse  was  at  six  minutes  and  twenty-four 
seconds  past  ten  o'clock ;  the  beginning  of 
total  darkness  was  at  twenty-five  minutes 
and  twenty-six  seconds  past  eleven,  and 
it  ended  at  thirt}'  minutes  and  fourteen 
seconds  past  eleven ;  the  eclipse  ended 
at  fifty  minutes  and  forty-two  seconds 
past  twelve ;  duration  of  the  eclipse,  two 
hours,  forty-four  minutes,  eighteen  sec- 
onds ;  duration  of  the  total  darkness,  four 
minutes  and  forty-eight  seconds.  In  the 
engraved  representation  of  this  magnifi- 
cent and  solemn  spectacle,  the  luminous 
ring  round  the  moon  is  exactly  as  it  ap- 
peared in  the  middle  of  the  eclipse.  The 
edge  of  the  moon  was  strongly  illumin- 
ated, exhibiti:ig  the  brilliancy  of  polished 
silver. 

But,  though  the  eclipse  of  1806  was,  at 
least  in  the  duration  of  its  totality,  mem- 
orable above  all  precedent,  to  American 
observers,  the  total  eclipse  of  August  sev- 
enth, 1869,  was  destined  to  be  more  im- 
portant in  a  scientific  point  of  view,  and  to 
fill  a  more  prominent  place  in  history,  on 
account  of  the  great  progress  in  astronomi- 
cal knowledge  and  the  corresponding  im- 
provement in  all  the  instruments  of  tele- 


scopic observation,  characterizing  the  lapse 
of  more  than  three-score  years. 

Beginning  in  the  Pacific  ocean,  just  east 
of  Yedilo,  the  capital  of  Japan,  at  sunrise 
there,  the  shadow's  central  point  first 
struck  the  earth  in  the  Altair  mountain 
range  in  Russian  Asia,  one  hundred  and 
sixty-five  and  a  half  degrees  west  from 
Washington,  then  passing  in  a  northward 
curve  still,  entered  United  States  territoiy 
in  Alaska,  near  Prince  AVilliam's  sound, 
at  the  hour  of  noon.  Thence  it  rapidly 
traversed  British  Columbia,  hit  the  center 
of  Montana's  northern  line,  struck  the 
Mississippi  river  near  Sioux  City,  Iowa, 
passed  through  Illinois  just  north  of 
Springfield,  shaded  segments  of  Indiana, 
Kentucky,  Virginia,  Tennessee,  and  North 
Carolina,  and  ended  its  totality  in  mid- 
ocean.  The  course  of  the  eclipse  was  in 
the  form  of  an  ellipse,  and  the  extreme 
limits  of  the  obscuration  embraced  nearly 
one-half  the  earth's  circumference ;  while 
the  central  circular  patch  of  darkness  was 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty-six  miles  in 
diameter. 

Never  were  more  extensive  preparations 
made  by  governments  and  men  of  science, 
to  have  thorough  observations  of  a  solar 


TOTAL  ECLIPSE  IN  18G9. 

eclipse,  than  at  this  time,  and  never  was 
the  weather  more  propitious  for  such  an 
event  to  be  noted,  in  all  its  phenomena. 

At  Springfield,  Illinois,  one  of  the  most 
available  spots  for  observation,  Professor 
Peirce,  of  Harvard  College,  was  in  attend- 
ance. When  the  total  obscuration  took 
place,  the  heavens  and  earth  presented  a 


200 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


scene  of  awful  sublimity.  A  brilliant 
amber-colored  corona  appeared  around  the 
sun  and  moon,  shooting  rays  of  light  out- 
ward in  all  directions,  when  the  whole  hori- 
zon was  illuminated  witli  light  of  the  same 
color.  The  planets  Mercury  and  Venus,  and 
a  number  of  fixed  stars,  were  distinctly  visi- 
ble, but  no  planetary  orbs  between  Mercury 
and  the  sun  were  discovered.  A  brilliant 
rose-colored  flame,  or  protuberance,  was 
noticed  on  the  western  limb  of  the  sun  dur- 
ing the  period  of  total  obscuration.  The 
phenomenon,  known  as  Baile3''s  beads,  was 
also  distinctly  witnessed.  According  to 
Prof.  Peirce,  the  last-named  appearance  is 
occasioned  by  tlie  refraction  of  liglit,  and 
the  corona,  or  halo,  at  the  time  of  totality, 
by  the  sun's  atmosphere. 

Des  ]\Ioines,  Iowa,  afforded  another  most 
favorable  locality  for  the  presence  of 
astronomers,  a  slight  haze  only  interfering 
to  prevent  satisfactory  search  for  the  plan- 
ets supposed  to  exist  inside  the  orbit  of 
Mercury.  Professor  Safford's  observations 
showed  that  the  first  contact  occurred  at 
•^hree  o'clock,  forty-three  minutes,  forty- 
three  seconds  ;  the  commencement  of  the 
total  obscurit}''  was  at  four  o'clock,  fortj'- 
five  minutes,  tliirty  seconds,  and  its  end 
was  at  four  o'clock,  forty-eiglit  minutes, 
twenty-two  seconds  ;  the  last  contact  was 
at  five  o'clock,  forty-five  minutes,  eleven 
seconds. 

The  points  of  time  thus  noted  by  Pro- 
fessor Safford,  were  from  six  to  twenty- 
two  seconds  later  than  calculated,  according 
to  Washington;  E.  P.  Himenas  and  Pro- 
fessor Hillyard  observing  it.  A  discrep- 
ancy was  also  noticed  between  the  calcu- 
lation and  observation  of  tlie  corona.  It 
was  nearly  rhomboid  il  in  form,  and  very 
distinct  and  extended,  at  some  points  half 
a  degree  beyond  the  edge  of  the  sun's 
disc.  The  rose-colored  protuberances  ap- 
peared to  the  number  of  five  or  six,  the 
greatest  being  on  the  sun's  south-western 
quarter.  Professor  Harkness's  observa- 
tions of  the  protuberances,  in  the  spectro- 
scope, showed  a  different  spectra  for  each. 
But  a  single  band  was  thrown  by  the  cor- 
ona.    Profassor  Eastman's  observations  of 


the  thermometer  showed  a  fall  of  thirteen 
degrees  in  the  temperature,  during  the 
progress  of  the  eclipse.  Venus  and  Mer- 
cury could  be  plainly  seen,  and  the  dark- 
ness exceeded  that  of  the  night.  But  the 
most  interesting  feature  in  the  asi)ect  of 
the  sun  was  the  protuberances  or  beads. 
The  largest  one  was  semi-circular  in  shape, 
with  a  finger  extending  about  one-eighth 
part  of  the  sun's  diameter,  directly  down- 
ward as  one  looked.  Another  right  limb 
was  shaped  much  like  two  horns  of  an  ante- 
lope. The  greatest  length  of  the  corona 
was  in  the  direction  of  the  elliptic.  Valu- 
al)Ie  observations  were  also  made  here  by 
Professors  Peters,  Fraser,  Rogers,  Norton, 
and  Lane. 

Professors  Hough  and  IVIurray  made 
some  valuable  observations  at  Mattoon, 
Illinois,  one  of  their  instruments  being  pro- 
vided with  means  for  accurately  measuring 
the  diversions  of  the  protuberances  on  the 
sun  or  corona.  When  the  sun  became 
totally  obscured,  the  darkness  was  equal  to 
that  of  a  moonlight  night,  and  the  temper- 
ature was  forty-two  degrees  cooler  than  one 
hour  before.  Six  spots  were  visible  on  the 
surface  of  the  sun  before  the  eclipse,  two 
of  which  were  very  prominent,  and  the 
others  much  less.  The  cusps  on  the  moon 
had  a  ragged  and  blurred  appearance,  and, 
near  them,  Bailey's  beads  were  seen  by  all 
observers,  extending  through  an  arc  of 
fifty  degrees.  The  moment  the  eclipse 
became  total,  the  flame-like  protul)erances 
were  seen  with  wonderful  distinctness,  one 
very  large  on  the  lower  limb  of  the  sun, 
and  three  nearly  as  large  on  the  upper 
limbs,  while  at  least  seven  or  eight  of 
them  in  all  were  visible.  The  one  on  the 
right  hand,  or  lower  limb,  had  somewhat 
the  appearance  of  a  full-rigged  ship  with 
sails  set.  In  its  part  nearest  the  moon 
were  two  or  three  jet  black  spots.  To  the 
naked  eye,  it  seemed  as  though  there  were 
openings  in  the  moon,  two  on  the  east  side 
and  one  on  the  south-west  side.  Just  after 
the  total  obscurity,  through  the  openings, 
the  lurid  glow  of  the  sun  was  plainly  visi- 
ble. The  corona  was  not,  as  generally 
described,  a  halo  of  liccht  surroundinT  the 


GREAT  AND  MEiMORAl^LE  EVENTS. 


201 


moon,  but  appeared  in  tlio  shape  of  five 
forked  prongs  on  the  upper  eircuniferenee 
of  the  nioou.  These  j)oints  presented  a 
radiant  appearance.  The  generally-re- 
ceived theory  regarding  this  corona — that 
it  is  the  atmosphere  of  the  sun — did  not 
seem  to  be  sustained  by  the  observations 
made  at  this  point.  Although  search  was 
made,  no  planetary  bodies  were  observed 
between  Mercurv  and  the  sun.  Dui.ns:  the 
totality  phase,  Mercury,  Venus,  Regulus, 
Mars,  Saturn,  Denebata,  and  other  stars, 
appeared  in  full  view.  The  temperature 
in  the  shade,  at  tlie  be<T[innin<T  of  the 
eclipse,  was  seventy-seven  degrees  ;  during 
the  totality,  forty-five  degrees  ;  and  at  the 
end  of  the  eclipse,  it  had  risen  to  seventy 
degrees.  At  three  o'clock  and  forty  min- 
utes, in  the  sun,  en  the  grass,  the  ther- 
mometer was  at  one  hundred  degrees.  At 
a  few  minutes  after  four,  it  rose  to  one 
hundred  and  two  degrees,  while  during  the 
totality  it  fell  to  sixty,  but  subsequently 
rose  to  eighty. 

Dr.  B.  A.  Gould  and  Professoj."  Coffin 
had  charge  of  the  observations  made  at 
Burlington,  Iowa,  by  direction  of  the 
United  States  government,  with  Avhom 
"were  also  associated  Professors  IMorton, 
Mayer,  Hines,  Watson,  Merriman,  Van 
Fleck,  Johnson,  and  others,  either  as  ob- 
servers or  visitors.  Two  points  were  paid 
special  attention  to  at  this  place,  namelj-, 
a  search  for  those  planets  which  Leverrier 
supposed  to  exist  between  the  sun  and 
Mercury,  and  the  character  of  the  corona. 

For  this  purpose,  a  telescope  of  peculiar 
construction  was  employed,  being  of  the 
least  magnif^'ing  power  combined  with  the 
greatest  intensity  of  light  possible.  The 
attempts  at  measuring  the  corona  were 
necessarily  vague,  but  its  height  above  the 
edge  of  the  moon  was  computed  at  full  six- 
teen minutes, —  some  four  hundred  and 
forty  thousand  miles, — while  the  stream- 
ers, or  longer  projections  of  its  light, 
extended  some  thirty  minutes  beyond  the 
surface,  the  whole  diameter  of  the  sun 
being  thirty-two  minutes.  The  color  of 
the  moon  during  the  total  obscuration  was 
observed,  and  decided  to  be  not  jet  black. 


as  represented  by  some,  but  a  dark  slate 
color.  The  corona  was  an  exquisitely  pure 
white,  which,  as  it  faded  into  the  dark 
background  of  the  sky,  became  gray.  It 
was  visible  one  minute  and  twenty-six 
seconds  before  totality,  and  one  minute 
after,  and  was  extremely  variable  in  sym- 
metry of  form.  Three  sketches  were 
taken  in  less  than  three  minutes  of  the 
duration,  in  which  the  corona  showed 
marked  change  of  outline.  The  protuber- 
ances commonl}'  called  rosy,  by  observers 
at  other  places,  here  looked  white  to  the 
naked  eye,  with  an  opera-glass  slightly  ro- 
seate, and  with  the  telescope  red.  At  the 
moment  of  totality,  the  planets  were  visi- 
ble, ranged  in  perfect  brilliancy  ;  Mercury, 
rudd^'  as  ]\Iais,  and  Arcturus  and  Regulus, 
fixed  stars  of  the  first  magnitude,  were 
plain  to  the  unassisted  eye.  The  right 
pro'^nberance  on  the  sun's  lower  limb  had 
a  cellular  or  honey-combed  appearance,  not 
like  a  flame. 

In  the  search  made  at  Burlington  for 
intra-mercurial  j^lfinets,  the  light  was  shut 
off  of  the  corona  by  means  of  occulting 
circles,  and  the  region  was  carefully  stud- 
ied. Search  was  made  for  the  star  Pi  Le- 
onis,  a  fixed  star  of  five  and  eight-tenths 
magnitude,  fifty  minutes  distance  from  the 
sun,  and  it  was  actually  seen,  yet  so  faint, 
that,  if  it  had  not  been  known  to  be  there, 
it  could  not  have  been  discovered.  If 
there  were  any  star  of  the  fifth  or  sixth 
magnitude  there,  it  would  have  been 
observed ;  but  no  such  star  could  be 
detected. 

Great  preparations  were  made  at  Shel- 
byville,  Kentucky,  for  a  complete  observ- 
ance of  the  phenomenon.  One  of  the 
most  interesting  discoveries  made  here,  by 
Professor  "Winlock,  at  the  spectroscope, 
was  that  of  eleven  bright  lines  in  the 
spectrum  of  the  protuberances  of  the  sun, 
instead  of  the  smaller  number  hitherto 
determined.  He  also  observed  a  shower 
of  meteors  betw<^en  the  earth  and  moon. 
The  beautiful  protuberances  appeared  as 
red  flames,  and  were  seen  by  the  naked 
eye.  Bailey's  beads,  as  well  as  the  dark 
and  dismal  shadows  of  the  moon,  sailing 


202 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


away  through  the  air,  were  noted.  Mr. 
Searle,  whose  specialt}^  it  was  to  search 
for  intra-inercurial  planets,  did  not  succeed 
in  finding  any,  reporting  nothing  fainter 
than  Reguhis  near  tlie  sun.  Some  mo- 
ments before  the  total  phase,  the  usual 
phenomena  of  distraction  among  the  birds 
of  the  air  and  the  cattle  occurred.  Six 
minutes  before  totality,  a  deathly  ashen 
hue   overspread   the   countenances  of  all, 


ECLIPSE,  AS   SEEK  IN  BRAZIL. 

and  for  a  while  the  faint-hearted  Avere 
almost  terrified.  The  general  phenomena 
at  all  the  places  where  the  eclipse  was 
complete,  or  nearly  so,  were  the  A'acilla- 
tion  of  the  wind,  the  deeji,  strange  shadow, 
the  yellowish  pink  atmosphere  in  the  west, 
the  flickering  and  wavy  appearance  of  the 
sun's  rays  when  the  eclipse  was  at  its 
height,  the  chilly  feeling,  the  disturbance 
among  the  birds  and  fowls,  and  the  sight 
of  certain  planets  with  the  naked  eye. 

At  Xewbern,  North  Carolina,  the  ther- 
mometer fell  ten  and  one-half  degrees, 
during  the  time  from  first  contact  to  total 
obscuration.  The  sky  was  intensely  blue, 
at  totality,  and  studied  with  glittering 
stars,  while  the  north-west  glowed  with  a 
deep  crimson  orange  hue.  Around  the 
black  body  of  the  moon  glowed  a  ring  of 
molten  silver,  whence  radiated  the  corona, 
an  immense  halo;  and,  just  as  the  last 
rays  of  the  sun  disappeared,  this  halo, 
with  prominent  projections  like  a  huge 
star,  burst  out  all  aroiind  the  disc  of  tlie 
moon,  forming  a  most  impressive  climax 
to  the  whole  phenomenon  ;  direc'ly  at  the 
bottom,   glowed  with  intense  brilliancy  a 


rose-colored  projection,  visible  to  the  naked 
eye ;  a  few  seconds  more,  and  another 
glittered  at  the  extreme  right — and  then 
another,  and,  successively,  six  or  more 
pale  ruby  brilliants  burned  with  dazzling 
effulgence  in  their  silver  setting;  a  second 
or  two  more,  and  the  silvering  on  the  right 
melted  into  golden  beads;  another,  and 
the  glorious  sunlight  flashed  forth.  The 
corona  disappeared.  The  northern  sky 
was  radiant  with  a  new  day-break  at  six 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  dark  shadow 
of  the  moon  swept  southward,  and  the 
chilly  gloominess  rolled  away  into  the 
southern  sk3\  The  small  amount  of  light 
that  fell  ujion  the  trees  and  buildings,  just 
before  and  after  the  total  obscuration, 
lighted  them  iip  with  a  brilliancy  most 
peculiar ;  the  light  was  more  diffusive 
than  moonlight,  and  the  shadows  were 
more  distinctly  marked  and  visible.  It 
was  a  i^ale  golden  light;  the  edges  of  the 
distant  woods  were  more  apparent  than  in 
the  full  sunlight,  each  tree  seeming  to 
stand  out  by  itself, — the  nearest  a2)proach 
to  such  a  light  being  that  known  as  the 
calcium,  the  latter,  however,  being  white 
instead  of  pale  golden.  At  the  instant  of 
comjilete  obscuration,  when  the  corona 
flashed  around  the  dark  disc  of  the  moon, 
there  also  flashed  into  view  the  larger  stars 
and  planets.  Venus,  twice  an  CA^ening 
star  in  one  day,  hung  half-way  down  from 
the  zenith  ;  near  the  sun  glistened  a  star 
of  the  first  magnitude,  Regulus ;  while 
overhead  the  intense  blue  sky  Avas  full  of 
them. 

Much  scientific  interest  centered  around 
the  expedition  sent  b}^  government  to  the 
new  and  distant  territory  of  Alaska.  This 
expedition  left  Sitka,  July  15th,  in  an 
open  boat,  for  the  Chilkah  river,  but,  in 
(consequence  of  bad  Aveather,  it  was  eleven 
days  in  reaching  the  positions  selected — 
only  tAA-enty  miles  from  the  central  path  of 
totality.  It  Avas  found  impracticable  to 
carry  the  instruments  and  provisions  over 
Iron  Mountain  range,  for  the  determina- 
tion of  the  latitude  and  longitude  and  the 
magnetic  variation  obtained,  before  the 
date    of    the    eclipse.        The    seA'enth    of 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


203 


August  was  the  cloudiest  day  experienced, 
but  breaks  in  the  clouds  enabled  the  party 
to  watch  dift'erent  phases,  and  the  begin- 
ning of  totality  was  accurately  noted.  In- 
stantly after  obscuration,  rose-colored 
flames  were  visible  to  the  unassisted  eye, 
and  their  extent,  position,  elevation,  and 
approximity,  measured  on  the  south-east 
and  south-west  parts  of  the  sun's  limb. 
The  corona  was  visible  over  a  part  of  the 
limb  only.  The  end  of  the  eclipse  was  not 
seen,  but  the  whole  picture  was  magnifi- 
cent. The  phenomena  of  coming  darkness 
and  growing  liglit  were  very  marked  along 
the  course  of  the  valley.  The  Hon.  W. 
H.  Seward,  and  his  accompanying  tourists, 
visited  Professor  Davidson's  camp,  and 
watched  with  intense  interest  and  solemn 
delight  the  phases  of  the  eclipse,  particu- 
larlv  the  rose-colored  flames  and  corona. 
A  party  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  had  the 
best  view  of  the  totality ;  the  clouds  broke, 
and  a  large  clear  space  enabled  them  to  see 
the  flames  and  corona,  in  their  marvelo'^s 
beauty,  also  the  planet  Mercury,  and  star? 
of  the  fourth  magnitude.  At  Sitka,  the 
eclipse  was  watched  through  broken 
clouds.  The  Indians  were  fearfully 
alarmed,  and  hid  themselves  in  their 
houses,  or  took  to  the  bushes. 

As  usual,  on  the  occurrence  of  such   a 


wonderful  sight,  some  strange  incidents 
transpired.  In  his  account  of  the  observa- 
tions nnide  by  Professor  Watson,  at  Mount 
Pleasant,  Iowa,  Professor  Tyler  narrates 
tlie  case  of  a  good  man  who  went  round 
the  town  for  days  beforehand,  and  de- 
nounced the  impiety  of  the  scientific  pro- 
ceedings going  on — that  the  astronomers 
were  profanely  attempting  to  pry  into 
God's  secrets,  and  that  he  had  veiled  his 
sun  in  order  to  baffle  them.  The  cloudy 
weather  which  continued  up  to  the  last 
day  seemed  to  give  some  support  to  bis 
declarations ;  but,  notwithstanding  his 
assertion  that  God  would  keep  his  rain 
a-going,  and  prevent  the  use  of  their  irre- 
ligious telescopes,  the  day  cleared  off  with 
the  utmost  splendor.  Another  local 
prophet  announced  that  the  eclipse  was  a 
judgment  upon  the  world  for  its  abomina- 
tions, and  that  the  path  of  its  shadow  over 
the  earth  would  be  marked  by  utter  blight. 
But  these  deluded  prophets  of  evil  were, 
indeed,  rare  exceptions ;  millions  of  man- 
kind watched,  with  reverential  and  de- 
lighted satisfaction,  the  obedience  of  the 
two  great  luminaries  to  the  eternal  laws 
which  govern  their  existence;  and  Science, 
the  hand-maid  and  interpreter  of  Nature, 
gave  new  assurance  of  her  sublime  and 
beneficent  mission. 


XX. 

CONSPIRACY  AND  TRIAL  OF  AARON  BURR.— ISOG. 


Lawless  Scheme  of -Conquest  and  Dominion  at  the  South-west.  —  A  New  Empire  Contemplated, 
with  Burr  as  Sovereijjn.  —  Seizure  of  His  Flotilla  and  Dispersion  of  His  Men  when  Ready 
to  Embark,  by  the  Federal  Forces.  —  Capture  and  Arraijrnment  of  Burr  for  High  Trea- 
son —  Keckless  Character  of  Burr. — His  Unscrupulous  Ambitions.  —  Enlists  Blennerhassett  in 
His  Plans.  —  Their  Expedition  Arranged  — Mexico  the  Ultimate  Point.  —  Discovery  of  the 
AVhole  Plot  — Its  Complet^e  Frustration.  —  Burr  Flees  in  Disguise. — Scene  at  His  Arrest. — 
Attempt   to    F.,<«cape.  —  The  Tron-hearted    Man   in  Tears.  —  His  Social  Fascination.  —  Preparations 

for  the  Trial. — Its  Legal  and  Forensic  In- 
terest — Acquittal  on  Technical  Grounds. — 
Shunned  as  a  Man  of  Infamy  — Devotion  of 
His  Daughter  Theodosia. — Lifelong  and  Un- 
alterable Love  — Her  Mysterious  Fate. — 
Burr's  Anguish  and  Agony. —  A  Moral 
Wreck  and  Warning. 


"  TtiB  poimtrv'B  curse,  his  children's  shame. 
Outcast  of  virtue,  peace,  aud  fume." 


S  events  proved,  it  remained  for  Aaron  Burr  to  add  one  more 
l^olitical  crime  to  his  corrupt  career  as  a  public  man,  and  one 
more  dark  chapter  to  his  country's  history.  Staggering  under  the  weiglit  of  ob- 
loquy and  disgrace  brought  down  upon  him  by  his  cold-blooded  disposal  of  Alex- 
ander Hamilton,  on  the  fatal  plains  of  Weehawken,  lie  still  sought  some  means  of 
triumphing  over  his  eneiuies  and  attaining  distinction  and  power.  Strong  and 
resolute  in  the  operations  of  his  ever-active  mind,  his  ambition  was  eqtially  restless 
and  far-reaching.  Abandoned  by  his  once-admiring  political  associates,  he  became  an 
exile,  in  one  of  the  then  far-off  western  states,  his  brain  teeming  with  schemes  of 
wealth,  conquest,  and  dominion. 

In  the  autumn  of  1806,  President  Jefferson  learned  that  mysterious  proceedings 
were  going  on  along  the  Ohio  :  boats  preparing,  stores  of  provisions  collecting,  and 
a  number  of  suspicious  characters  in  movement.  A  confidential  agent  sent  by  the 
government  authorities  to  the  spot,  warned  the  president  that  Burr  Avas  the  ])rime 
mover;  and  General  Wilkinson,  who  commanded  near  New  Orleans,  intimated  that 
propositions  of  a  daring  and  dangerous  import  had  been  transmitted  to  him  by 
that  i)ersonage.  The  ostensible  pretext  was,  the  forming  of  a  large  agricultural 
settlement  on  the  banks  of  the  Washita  in  Louisiana,  a  tributary  of  the  Mississippi; 
Imt  the  various  preparations,  the  engagement  for  six  months  only,  the  purchase 
and  building  of  boats,  the  provision  of  muskets  and  bayonets,  pointed  to  something 
of  a  very  different  character— either  the  fonnation  of  the  western  territory  into  a 
separate  government,   or  an   expedition  against  Mexico,   sought  to  be  justified  by  a 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


205 


bouiulary  difference  that  had  arisen  with 
Si)ain.  In  fact,  the  erection  of  a  new 
enii)ire,  with  Burr  at  its  liead. 

Burr's  chief  associate  in  tlie  plans  which 
he  had  tlms  formed  was  Harnian  Blenner- 
hassett,  aiul  tlie  story  of  their  acquain- 
tance, friendsliii)  anil  confederation, 
borders  strongly  on  the  romantic.  Blen- 
nerhassett  was  one  of  the  Irish  patriots 
who  were  compelled  to  flee  from  Ireland 
after  their  attempt  to  liberate  themselves 
from  the  thralldom  of  England,  and  was 
the  classmate  and  friend  of  the  celebrated 
Thomas  Addis  Emmett.  He  was  2>os- 
sessed  of  a  large  amount  of  property,  the 
greater  part  of  which  he  was  fortunate 
enough  to  render  available  in  money 
before  his  departure.  Disgusted  with  tlie 
corruption  of  courts,  and  glad  to  escape 
the  turmoil  of  politics,  he  sought  retire- 
ment in  the  western  wilderness,  on  a  beau- 
tiful island  in  the  Ohio,  then  on  the 
borders  of  civilization.  Here  he  built  a 
princely  mansion,  and  embellished  it  in  a 
most  costly  manner.  Situated  on  the 
borders  of  Virginia,  Kentucky  and  Ohio, 
he  had  access  to  very  refined  society,  with 
which  it  was  his  custom  constantly  to 
intermingle  and  exchange  civilities.  His 
hospitality  was  unbounded  ;  and,  dealt  out 
as  it  was  by  his  own  chivalric  courtesy 
and  the  grace  of  his  beautiful  wife,  his 
island  became  the  general  resort  for  all 
the  country  around,  and  it  is  even  yet  cel- 
ebrated for  the  splendid  revelries  and 
entertainments  of  which  it  was  once  the 
scene. 

Blennerhassett  was  a  fine  sample  of  a 
polished  Irish  gentleman,  and  rendered 
himself  a  very  affectionate  object  of  regard, 
by  the  amenity  of  his  manners  and  his 
disposition.  His  lady  was  a  woman  of 
rare  beaut}'^  and  accomplishments,  which 
were  heightened  by  a  pure  and  unimpeach- 
able character.  She  reigned  the  queen  of 
this  beautiful  kingdom  of  taste  and  refine- 
ment which  Blennerhassett  had  created  on 
the  Ohio  ;  and,  according  to  contemporary 
accounts,  she  deported  herself  with  an  ele- 
gance and  dignity  that  might  have  become 
a  throne.     She  was  also  a  woman  of  high 


spirit  and  ambition,  and  when  Burr,  aware 
of  her  commanding  influence  over  her  hus- 
band, conlitlentiuJly  intrusted  her  with  his 
plans,  she  was  fired  with  the  boldness  and 
intrepidity  of  his  euter[)rise,  and  immedi- 
ately determined  to  engage  her  husband  as 
an  associate.  Blennerhassett,  being  a 
man  of  ductile  temper,  was  easily  induced 
b}'  the  dazzling  rejjresentations  of  prospec- 
tive glory  and  honor  which  were  set  before 
him,  to  become  a  participator  with  Burr. 
He  was,  moreover,  a  liberalist  of  the 
French  school,  of  which  fact  Aaron  Burr 
was  well  aware  ;  and  it  would  seem  that 
the  gorgeous  picture  which  Burr  held  up 
to  him,  of  Mexico  redeemed  from  tyranny 
by  their  united  efforts,  inspired  his  whole 
nature,  as  he  entered  with  enthusiasm  into 
what  he  was  led  to  regard  an  honorable 
and  humane  undertaking. 

When  once  pledged  to  Burr,  under  the 
mastering  genius  of  his  wife,  the  exiled 
patriot  actively  engaged  in  enlisting  men, 
building  boats,  and  jireparing  the  essen- 
tials of  his  expedition.  Many  of  the  most 
respectable  citizens  of  the  neighboring 
country,  being  influenced  by  the  flattering 
promises  held  out,  were  induced  to  con- 
tribute funds,  and  connect  themselves  with 
the  affair.  The  entertainments  on  the 
island  were,  with  the  progress  of  events, 
broken  up,  and  its  shores  echoed  only  to 
the  mufiied  oar  of  the  conspirators,  as  they 
crossed  from  the  adjacent  banks,  or  to  the 
tramp  of  bold  adventurers,  as  they  congre- 
gated on  the  beach  to  resolve  and  discuss 
their  j^lans. 

Though  somewhat  anticipating  the 
thread  of  the  narrative,  it  may  here  be 
stated,  as  illustrating  the  character  of  a 
truly  brave  woman  and  devoted  wife,  that 
a  large  number  of  flat-boats  had  been  built 
on  the  Muskingum,  and  sent  over  to  the 
island,  and  everything  was  ripe  for  a 
movement,  when  the  plot  became  known 
to  the  public  authorities.  Blennerhassett 
was  very  speedily  deserted  by  his  follow- 
ers;  and  Buell,  who  commanded  the  gov- 
ernment militia,  went  over  with  a  small 
detachment  to  arrest  Burr's  great  accom- 
plice.    He  had  hardly  set  his  foot  on  the 


206 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


island,  before  he  was  met  by  Mrs.  Blen- 
nerhassett,  whose  spirit  seemed  to  rise  with 
the  increasing  desperation  of  her  fortunes. 
She  had  seen  the  party  coming,  and, 
snatching  up  a  pair  of  her  husband's  pis- 
tols, she  ran  from  the  house  to  meet  them. 
Just  as  the  militia-major  stepped  out  of 
the  boat,  she  seized  him  by  the  shoulder, 
and,  thrusting  him  back,  presented  two 
formidable  pistols  full  in  his  face,  cocked 
and  primed,  saying  in  the  most  positive 
tone, — 

"  One  stejy  farther,  and  I  will  send  yoti 
into  eternity;  it  is  easier  for  me  to  do  than 
to  say  it !  " 

Her  splendid  figure,  drawn  up  to  its 
full  height,  her  eye  fixed  with  a  strong 
and  determined  gaze,  her  hands  clenching 
firmly  the  weapons  which  she  held  at 
arm's  length,  —  these  told  the  militia- 
major,  in  language  not  to  be  mistaken,  the 
terms  on  which  he  might  advance.  It  is 
no  disparagement  of  his  military  or  manly 
qualities  to  sa}',  that  the  old  soldier  quailed 
before  the  courageous  woman  and  her  trag- 
ical determination,  and  was  forced  to  turn 
without  his  victim. 

The  frustration  of  Burr's  scheme  was 
largely  due  to  the  revelations  made  by 
General  Wilkinson,  in  whom  Burr  had 
confided  so  far  as  to  communicate  quite 
fully  the  character  and  mode  of  the 
proposed  expedition.  The  tenor  of  this 
communication  was,  that  he,  Burr,  had  ob- 
tained funds,  and  had  actually  commenced 
the  enterprise,  detachments  from  different 
points  and  under  different  pretenses  being 
ready  to  rendezvous  on  the  Ohio  by  the 
first  of  November,  to  meet  oii  the  Missis- 
sippi,— Wilkinson  to  be  second  in  com- 
mand to  Burr  only,  and  to  dictate  the 
rank  and  promotion  of  the  officers.  Burr 
was  to  proceed  westward  with  his  daugh- 
ter, whose  husband  would  follow  in  Octo- 
ber, with  a  company  of  choice  spirits. 
Wilkinson  was  also  asked  to  send  an  intel- 
ligent and  confidential  friend  to  confer 
with  Burr, — bringing  a  list  of  all  persons 
known  to  the  general,  west  of  the  moun- 
tains, likely  to  i)rove  useful,  —  together 
with  four  or  five  commissions  of  Wilkin- 


son's officers,  to  be  borrowed  ujDon  some 
j^retense,  and  duly  to  be  returned.  To 
this  was  added  the  assurance,  that  already 
had  orders  been  given  to  the  contractor, 
to  forward  six  months'  provisions  to  points 
Wilkinson  should  name  —  this  not  to  be 
used  until  the  last  moment,  and  then 
under  proper  injunctions.  Burr  stated  his 
plan  of  operations  to  be  as  follows :  To 
move  down  rapidlj-  from  the  Falls  on  the 
fifteenth  of  November,  with  the  first  five 
hundred  or  one  thousand  men  in  light 
boats,  to  be  at  Natchez  between  the  fifth 
and  fifteenth  of  December,  thei-e  to  meet 
Wilkinson  and  determine  as  to  the  expe- 
diency of  seizing  on  or  j^assing  by  Baton 
Rouge ;  that  the  people  of  the  countr}^  to 
which  the  movement  Avas  directed  were 
ready  to  extend  a  cordial  welcome,  their 
agents  then  with  Burr  declaring  that,  if 
he  would  protect  their  religion  and  not 
subject  them  to  a  foreign  power,  in  three 
weeks  all  would  be  settled.  In  concluding 
his  letter  to  Wilkinson,  Burr  in  glowing 
rhapsody  said: 

"  The  gods  invite  to  glory  and  fortune! 
It  remains  to  be  seen  Avhether  we  deserve 
the  boon.  The  bearer  of  this  goes  express 
to  3'ou  ;  he  will  hand  a  formal  letter  of 
introduction  to  you  from  Burr.  He  is  a 
man  of  inviolable  honor  and  perfect  dis- 
cretion, formed  to  execute  rather  than  to 
project,  capable  of  relating  facts  with  fidel- 
ity and  incapable  of  relating  them  other- 
wise; he  is  thoroughly  informed  of  the 
plans  and  intentions  of  Burr,  and  will  dis- 
close to  you  as  far  as  you  inquire,  and  no 
farther.  He  has  imbibed  a  reverence  for 
3'our  character,  and  may  be  embarrassed 
in  your  presence ;  put  him  at  ease  and  he 
will  satisfy  you." 

It  appeared  to  be  Burr's  plan,  to  make 
Blennerhassett's  island,  in  the  Ohio  river, 
the  place  of  rendezvous  ;  there  to  fit  out 
boats  furnished  with  armed  men,  and  send 
them  down  the  river. 

liurr  had  counted  too  confidently  upon 
Wilkinson's  becoming  an  accessory  and 
participant.  The  latter  instantly  resolved, 
after  reading  the  cipher-letter,  to  avail 
himself  of  the   reference  it  made   to  the 


GREAT  AND  INIE.MOUABLE  EVENTS. 


207 


bearer,  Mr.  Swartwout,  aiul,  in  tlie  course 
of  some  days,  drew  from  liim  the  following 
disclosure  : — That  he  had  been  disfjatt-hed 
by  Colonel  Ikur  from  Philaddpliia ;  had 
passed  through  the  states  of  Ohio  and 
Kentucky,  and  proceeded  from  Lnuisville 
for  St.  Louis,  expecting  there  to  tind  Wil- 
kinson ;  but  discovering  that  Wilkinson 
had  descended  the  river,  he  procured  a 
skiff,  hired  hands,  and  followed  the  gen- 
eral down  the  Mississippi  to  Fort  Adams, 
and  from  thence  set  out  for  Natcliitoches, 
in  company  with  Captains  Spark  and 
Hooke,  under  tlie  pretense  of  a  disposition 
to  take  part  in  the  campaign  against  the 
Sjjaniards,  then  pending.  That  Colonel 
Burr,  with  the  support  of  a  powerful  asso- 
ciation extending  from  New  York  to  New 
Orleans,  was  levying  an  armed  body  of 
seven  thousand  men  from  the  western 
states  and  territories,  with  a  view  to  carry 
an  expedition  against  the  provinces  of 
Mexico,  and  that  five  liundred  men,  under 
the  command  of  Colonel  Swartwout  and 
a  Colonel  or  Major  Tyler,  were  to  de- 
scend the  Alleghany,  for  whose  accom- 
modation light-boats  had  been  built  and 
were  ready. 

In  reply  to  Wilkinson's  inquirj",  as  to 
what  course  was  to  be  pursued,  answer 
was  made  tliat  the  territory  would  be  revo- 
lutionized, where  the  people  were  ready  to 
join  them  ;  that  there  would  be  some  seiz- 
ing, probably,  at  New  Orleans ;  that  they 
expected  to  be  ready  to  march  or  embark 
about  the  first  of  Februarj',  intending  to 
land  at  Vera  Cruz,  and  to  march  from 
thence  to  Mexico.  General  Wilkinson  now 
remarked,  "  There  are  several  vi'dlions  of 
dollars  in  tlie  hank  of  this  place;"  to 
which  reply  was  made,  ''  We  know  it  full 
ivell.''  On  the  general's  further  observing 
that  he  presumed  they  certainly  did  not 
mean  to  violate  private  property.  Burr's 
agent  said  that  they  meant  to  borrow,  and 
would  return  it ;  that  they  must  equip 
themselves  in  New  Orleans,  that  they 
expected  naval  protection  from  Gi'eat  Brit- 
ain ;  that  the  captains  and  officers  of  the 
American  navy  were  so  disgusted  with  the 
government,  that  they  were  ready  to  join  ; 


that  similar  disgusts  prevailed  throughout 
the  western  country,  where  the  people 
were  zealous  in  favor  of  the  enterprise, 
and  that  i)ilot-l)oat  built  schooners  had 
been  contracted  for  along  the  southern 
coast  for  their  service. 

Though  determined  to  deceive  him,  if 
possible.  General  Wilkinson  avers  —  not- 
withstanding the  charge  which  lias  been 
brought  against  him  of  at  one  time  favor- 
ing and  subse(]uentl3^  turning  his  back 
upon  Burr's  scheme — that  he  replied  that 
he  could  never  dishonor  his  commission; 
that  he  also  duped  the  agent  by  expressing 
admiration  of  the  plan,  and  by  observing, 
that,  although  he  could  not  join  the  expe- 
dition, the  engagements  which  the  Span- 
iards had  prepared  for  him  at  the  front 
might  prevent  his  opposing  it.  Yet,  as 
soon  as  General  Wilkinson  had  full^- 
deciphered  the  letter,  he  declared  his  inten- 
tion to  oppose  the  lawless  entei-prise  with 
all  the  force  at  his  command,  and  immedi- 
ately informed  President  Jefferson.  With 
the  excejition  of  the  attack  on  the  frigate 
Chesapeake,  Commodore  Barron,  by  the 
British  frigate  Leojiard,  and  the  embargo 
and  non-intercourse  measures  against 
England,  few  occurrences  caused  greater 
anxiety  to  the  president,  during  his  eight 
^•ears'  official  term,  than  this  of  Burr. 

Government  spies  had  for  some  time 
been  on  Burr's  track,  and,  in  view  of  his 
supposed  design  to  attempt  a  separation  of 
the  western  states  from  the  federal  union, 
the  governor  of  Ohio  was  authorized  by 
the  legislature  to  proceed  in  such  a  manner 
as  he  deemed  best  to  check  and  break  up 
the  movement.  Accordingl}-,  by  the 
middle  of  December,  ten  boats  with  stores 
were  arrested  on  the  ]\Iuskingum,  and  in  a 
short  time  after,  four  more  were  seized  by 
the  troops  at  Marietta.  Blennerhassett, 
Tyler,  and  about  forty  others,  left  the 
island  on  the  night  of  December  tenth, 
and  sailed  down  the  river,  barely  escaping 
arrest  by  the  military  authorities  of  Ohio. 
On  the  sixteenth,  this  party  united  with 
one  commanded  by  Davis  Floyd,  at  the 
Falls,  and,  ten  days  after,  the  whole  force 
joined  Burr  at  the  mouth  of  the  Cumber- 


208 


OUR  FIEST  CENT  UK  Y.— 1776-1876. 


^  3^^^^0      BREAKING-UF  OF  BUKR  S  EXPEDITION. 


BtJRR  AND   HIS   DELUDED  FOLLOWERS. 

land  ;  on  tlie  twent^'-ninth,  tlie  adventur- 
ers passed  Fort  Massac. 

In  tlie  meantime,  the  United  States 
government  had  not  been  inactive.  Pres- 
ident Jefferson's  proclamation  cautioned 
all  citizens  against  joining  the  enterprise, 
and  orders  were  issued  to  the  United 
States  troops,  then  stationed  along  the 
Ohio  and  Mississippi,  to  capture  the  boats 
and  make  prisoners  all  on  board  of  them, 
including,  of  course,  the  chief  conspirator. 
Aini)le  precaution  had  likewise  been  taken 
by  General  Wilkinson,  for  the  protection 
and  defense  of  New  Orleans.  On  the 
fourth  of  January,  Burr  was  at  Fort  Pick- 
ering, Chickasaw  lUuffs  ;  and  soon  after  at 
P>ayou  Pierre.  P)ut  as  lie  approached 
New  Oi'leans,  he  found  such  a  state  of 
things  in  respect  to  pul)lic  sentiment  and 
military  e(juipment,  as  to  completely  baffle 
his  plans.  He  accordingly  proceeded  to 
the    Tombigbee,   on   his   way   to   Florida, 


having  landed  with  a  single  companion  on 
the  banks  of  the  Mississi])pi,  in  the  middle 
of  January. 

Close  pursuit  was  made  of  r>urr  by 
Lieutenant  Edmund  P.  Gaines,  at  the 
head  of  a  file  of  mounted  soldiers,  and  in  a 
short  time  they  encountered  the  object  of 
their  search,  with  his  traveling  companion. 
Gaines  rode  forward,  and  accosting  one  of 
the  strangers,  whom  he  susjiected  to  be 
the  leader-in-chief,  remai'ked — 

''I  presume,  sir,  that  I  have  the  honor 
of  addressing  Colonel  Purr." 

"I  am  a  traveler,"  answered  lUirr,  "and 
in  a  strange  land,  and  do  not  recognize 
your  right  to  ask  such  a  question." 

'' /  arrest  yoif,"  responded  Gaines,  "at 
the  instance  of  the  United  Stater." 

"By  what  authority  do  30U  arrest  me, 
a  stranger,  on  the  highway,  on  my  own 
private  business  ?  " 

''lam  an  officer  of  the  United  States 
army,  and  hold  in  my  hand  the  ])roclama- 
tion  of  the  ])resident,  as  well  us  that  of  the 
governor  of  the  Mississippi  territory, 
directing  your  arrest." 

"  But  _you  are  a  young  man,  and  perhaps 
not  aware  of  the  responsibilit}'  of  thus 
arresting  a  traveler." 

"I  am  perfectly  aware  of  my  duties,  in 
the  premises,  and  shall  endeavor  to  per- 
form them." 

l^urr  now  broke  out  in  a  stream  of  vehe- 
ment  denunciation    of  the  proclamations. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORAIJLE  EVENTS. 


209 


and  warning  Gaines  that,  in  carrying  out 
tlieir  illegal  requisitions,  he  would  be  in- 
curring the  most  serious  liabilities.  His 
manner  was  firm,-  his  tone  imperious,  his 
words  keen  and  forcible ;  but  the  resolute 
young  oflficer  told  him  his  mind  was  made 
up, — the  prisoner  must  accompany  him  to 
his  quarters,  where  he  would  be  treated 
with  all  the  respect  due  the  e.\-vice- 
president  of  the  United  States,  so  long  as 
lie  made  no  attempt  to  escape.  He  was 
then  conducted  to  Fort  Stoddart,  and 
thence  was  conveyed  on  horseback,  in 
cliarge  of  Captain  Perkins,  to  Richmond, 
Virginia,  to  be  tried  by  the  United  States 
on  a  charge  of  higli  treason,  before  Chief- 
Justice  Marshall,  of  the  supreme  federal 
court. 

Strange  and  rapid  were  Burr's  vicissi- 
tudes. From  being  vice-president  of  tlie 
republic,  the  idol  of  a  powerful  and  domi- 
nant jiarty,  he  had  become  the  slayer  of 
America's  greatest  statesman,  and  then  a 
bold  and  disowned  adventurer.  Defeated 
and  pursued,  he  was  indeed  a  hopeless 
fugitive.  When  he  fled  from  the  authori- 
ties in  the  Mississippi  territory,  he  dis- 
guised himself  in  a  boatman's  dress;  his 
I)antaloons  were  of  coarse,  copperas-dyed 
cloth,  with  a  roundabout  of  inferior  drab; 
his  hat,  a  flapping,  wide-brim  beaver,  had, 
in  times  long  past,  been  white,  but  now 
gave  evidence  of  having  encountered  much 
rough  weather.  He  finally  found  himself 
a  prisoner,  on  his  way  to  be  arraigned  be- 
fore a  jury  of  his  country,  for  high  crimes 
and  misdemeanors.  Yet  his  fascinating 
power  over  men's  minds  was  not  yet 
extinguished.  On  being  placed  under 
guard,  to  be  conveyed  to  Richmond,  it  was 
thought  necessary  by  the  directing  officer, 
to  take  every  man  composing  the  squad 
aside,  and  obtain  the  most  solemn  pledges 
that,  upon  the  whole  route,  they  would 
hold  no  interviews  with  Burr,  nor  suffer 
him  to  escape  alive.  His  power  of  fasci- 
nating and  making  strong  impressions 
upon  the  human  mind,  and  attaching  men 
to  him  by  association,  could  allow  of  no 
familiarity. 

A  characteristic  incident  occurred  on 
14 


the  route  to  Richmond.  On  rcachin<r  the 
confines  of  South  Carolina,  Captain  Per- 
kins watched  Burr  more  closely  than  ever  ; 
for,  in  this  state  lived  the  son-in-law  of 
Burr,  Colonel  AUston,  a  gentleman  of 
talents,  wealth  and  influence,  and  after- 
wards governor  of  the  state.  Upon  enter- 
ing the  frontiers  of  Georgia,  Perkins 
endeavored  to  convey'  his  prisoner  in 
by-roads,  to  avoid  the  towns,  lest  he  should 
be  rescued.  The  plan  was  attended  with 
difficulty  ;  they  were  often  lost — the  march 
impeded  —  the  liighway  again  resumed. 
Before  entering  the  town  of  Chester,  in 
South  Carolina,  the  party  halted.  Two 
men  were  placed  before  Burr,  two  on 
either  side,  and  two  behind,  and,  in  this 
manner,  they  passed  near  a  tavern  on  the 
street,  where  many  persons  were  standing, 
and  music  and  dancing  Avere  heard  iii  the 
house.  Burr  conceived  it  a  favorable 
opportunity  for  escape,  and,  suddenly  dis- 
mounting, exclaimed — 

"I  am  Aaron  Burr,  under  military 
arrest,  and  claim  protection  of  the  civil 
authorities  ! " 

Perkins  leaped  from  his  horse,  with 
several  of  his  men,  and  ordered  him 
instantly  to  re-mount. 

^^  I  will  not !  "  replied  Burr. 

Not  Avisliing  to  shoot  him,  Perkins 
threw  down  his  pistols,  and,  being  a  man 
of  prodigious  strength,  and  the  prisoner 
rather  small,  seized  him  around  the  waist 
and  placed  him  in  his  saddle,  as  though  he 
was  a  child.  '  One  of  the  guards  now 
caught  the  reins  of  the  bridle,  slipped 
them  over  the  horse's  head,  and  led  him 
rapidly  on.  The  astonished  citizens  had 
seen  a  party  enter  their  village  with  a 
prisoner;  had  heard  him  appeal  to  them 
for  protection  ;  had  witnessed  the  feat  of 
Perkins ;  and  tlie  party  vanished,  before 
they  had  time  to  recover  from  their  confu- 
sion—  for,  when  Burr  dismounted,  the 
guards  cocked  their  pistols,  and  the  people 
ran  within  the  piazza  to  escape  from 
danger.  Far  off  in  the  outskirts  of  the 
village,  the  party  again  halted.  Burr 
was  intensely  agitated;  the  hitherto  iron- 
hearted  man  was  in  tears !      It  was  the 


210 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-187G. 


first  time  an}'  one  liad  ever  seen  Aaron 
Burr  unmanned. 

On  trial,  at  last,  the  whole  United 
States  waited  the  result  with  profoundest 
interest.  It  was  one  of  the  most  memora- 
ble state  occasions,  in  the  history  of  human 
governments.  Upon  the  bench  sat  the 
venerated  Marshall,  calm,  dignified, 
learned.  For  the  prosecution,  there  ap- 
peared District  Attorney  Hay  and  the 
renowned  William  Wirt.  For  the  defend- 
ant, Luther  Martin,  Edmund  Randolph, 
John  Wickham,  Benjamin  Botts,  and, 
rivaling  all  the  rest.  Burr  himself.  On 
the  jury  were  such  men  as  John  Randolph 
and  Littleton  W.  Tazewell.  Among  the 
spectators  were  Commoilore  Truxton,  Gen- 
erals Eaton  and  Jackson,  Washington 
Irving,  AVinfield  Scott,  William  B.  Giles, 
John  Ta^'lor.  Burr  was  of  course  the  cen- 
tral figure  in  this  master  scene.  After  a 
trial  lasting  three  or  four  weeks  in  mid- 
summer, during  wdiich  the  legal  exertions 
and  forensic  talent  and  power  displayed  on 
both  sides  Ave  re  indeed  prodigious,  the 
jury  returned  a  verdict,  "  that  Aaron  Burr 
is  not  proved  to  be  guilty,  under  the 
indictment,  by  any  evidence  submitted  to 
us ;  we,  therefore,  find  him  not  guilty." 
The  prosecution  failed  and  broke  down  in 
its  legal  proofs,  and  consequently  the 
indictments  against  the  other  conspirators 
were  never  pursued. 

Blennerhassett  found  himself  stripped 
of  his  possessions,  because  of  what  he  had 
embarked  in  this  calamitous  expedition. 
He  went  to  England,  in  quest  of  an  ap- 
pointment to  office,  and  to  Ireland,  to  look 
after  some  reversionary  claims,  but  unsuc- 
cessfully in  both  cases,  and,  bankrupt  and 
broken-hearted,  he  removed  to  the  isle  of 
Guernsey,  and  there  died  in  1831.  Mrs. 
Blennerhassett  died,  a  few  years  after,  in 
New  York,  in  the  most  abject  poverty, 
and  was  buried  by  some  Irish  females. 

Burr,  without  friends  or  fortune,  became 
an  exile  in  Europe,  where  he  lived  in  ex- 
treme penury,  and  everywhere  shunned  as 
a  felon  and  outlaw.  He  was  perem[)torily 
ordered  by  the  government  of  England  to 
quit  that  realm,  being  regarded  as  a  spy, 


and,  on  going  to  France,  was  there  kept 
under  the  closest  j)olice  surveillance.  Re- 
turning after  some  years  of  this  kind  of 
life,  to  his  native  land,  lie  resumed  the 
profession  of  the  law,  but  the  ban  of  soci- 
ety rested  upon  him,  and  he  was,  as  lie 
liimself  expressed  it,  severed  from  the  rest 
of  mankind. 

Yet  there  was  one  in  the  wide  world 
who  never  ceased  to  pour  upon  Aaron 
Burr  the  richest  treasures  of  woman's 
adoring  love.  This  was  his  daughter 
Theodosia,  the  beautiful  and  accomplished 
wife  of  Governor  Allston,  of  South  Caro- 
lina. As  has  been  trnl^'  said,  by  one  of  the 
many  eulogists  of  this  marvelous  woman, 
her  love  for  her  father  partook  of  the  purity 
of  abetter  world, — akin,  indeed,  to  the  affec- 
tion which  a  celestial  sjiirit  might  be  sup- 
posed to  entertain  for  a  parent  cast  down 
from  heaven,  for  sharing  in  the  sin  of  the 
'Son  of  the  Morning.'  Thus  it  was,  that, 
when  in  the  midst  of  his  deepest  obloqu}', 
and  when  the  whole  world,  as  it  were, 
looked  upon  him,  abhorrently,  as  a  de- 
praved monster,  the  loving  and  beloved 
Theodosia  could  write : 


'^^i^J^a. 


"1  witness  your  extraordinaiy  fortitude 
with  new  wonder  at  every  new  misfortune. 
Often,  after  reflecting  upon  this  subject, 
you  appear  to  me  so  superior,  so  elevated 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


211 


above  "all  other  men;  I  contemplate  you 
with  such  a  strange  mixture  of  humility, 
admiration,  reverence,  love  aiul  pride,  that 
very  little  superstition  would  be  necessary  to 
make  me  worship  you  as  a  superior  being ; 
such  enthusiasm  does  your  character  excite 
in  me.  When  I  afterward  revert  to  my- 
self, how  insignificant  do  my  best  qualities 
appear.  My  vanity  would  be  greater,  if  I 
had  not  been  placed  so  near  3'ou ;  and  yet 
my  pride  is  our  relationship.  I  had  rather 
not  live  than  not  be  the  daughter  of  such  a 


man. 


Never  had  the  worthiest  and  most  vir- 
tuous of  fathers  so  touching  a  tribute  of 
love  and  reverence  from  a  child,  as  this 
from  the  beautiful  and  gifted  Theodosia, 
to  a  parent  whose  very  name  was  regarded 
by  men  as  the  s^'nonym  of  dishonor  and 
pollution.  His  love  for  her,  too,  was  con- 
stant and  unbounded, — a  mutual,  fervent, 
enthusiastic  love,  between  the  two,  that 
almost  passes  belief,  and  which  no  descrip- 
tion could  adequately  characterize.  Yet 
it  was  the  destiny  of  this  man  to  have 
torn  and  sw^ept  from  him  the  last  and  only 
tie  that  kept  him  in  sympathy  with  his 
kind.  Returning  from  his  exile  in  Europe, 
to  the  land  where  he  was  still  regarded  as 


little  else  than  a  fiend  in  human  shai)e,  his 
heart  was  buoyed  with  the  expectation  of 
soon  clasi)ing  to  his  arms  her  in  whom  his 
earthly  all-in-all  centered.  Alas!  he  was 
yet  to  drain  the  cup  of  its  netlier  dregs. 
Hastening  to  meet  her  father  on  his  ar- 
rival at  New  York,  Theodosia  took  passage 
from  Charleston,  on  the  30th  of  December, 
in  1812,  in  the  small  pilot  schooner  Patriot, 
just  from  a  privateering  cruise.  But, 
though  a  fine  sailer,  with  the  best  of  offi- 
cers, the  vessel  was  never  seen,  nor  heard 
from,  after  leaving  port.  Whether  the 
vessel  took  fire  and  was  thus  destroyed 
with  all  on  board,  or  foundered  in  tlie  gale 
which  occurred  soon  after  she  left  Cliarles- 
ton,  or  was  taken  by  the  pirates  then 
infesting  the  high  seas,  is  unknown  to  this 
day.  It  was  a  blow  which  brought  inde- 
scribable dismay  and  agony  to  Burr. 
Utterly  bereft  and  alone,  shunned  as  a 
murderer,  and  despised  as  a  plotter  against 
his  countr}',  his  wretched  existence  was 
prolonged  to  past  four-score  years,  when 
he  went  down  in  loneliness  to  the  grave, 
"uuAvept,  unhonored,  and  unsung."  Of 
his  accomplished  and  affectionate  daughter, 
all  tongues  and  pens  have  unitedly  sjioken 
as  "  Theodosia  the  beloved." 


XXI. 

FULTOX'S    TRIUMPIIAXT   APPLICATIOX    OF    STEAM    TO 

XAVIGATIOX.— 1807. 


First  Steam-boat  Voyage  on  American  Waters  Under  His  Direction. — Astonishment  Produced  by  the 
Exhibition. — Great  Era  in  National  Development. — The  World  at  Large  Indebted  to  American 
Ingenuity  and  Enterprise  for  tiiis  Mighty  Revolutionary  Agent  in  Human  Progress  and  Power. — 
The  Whole  Scale  of  Civilization  Enlarged. — Fulton's  Early  Mechanisms. — His  Inventive  Projects 
Abroad. —  Steam  Propulsion  the  End  Sought. —  Various  Experiments  and  Trials. —  Livingston's 
Valued  Co-operation. — Studying  the  Principle  Involved. — Its  Discovery  at  Last. — Legislative  En- 
couragement Asked. — Public  Ridicule  of  the  Scheme. — Construction  of  a  Steamboat. — The  "  Queer- 
Looking  Craft." — Incidents  at  the  Launch. —  Undaunted  Confidence  of  Fulton. —  Sailing  of  the 
"  New-Fangled  Craft." — Den)onstrations  Along  the  Route. — Complete  Success  of  the  Trip. — First 
Passage-Money. — That  Bottle  of  Wine. — Opposition  Lines,  and  Racing. — First  Steam-boat  at  the 
West — Amazing  Subsequent  Increase. — Fulton's  Checkered  Fortunes. 


"It  is  to  the  undaunted  perseverance  and  exertions  of  the  American  Fultox  that  Is  due  the  everlasting  honor  of  havinz  produced  this 
rvTulution,  l)oth  in  navai  architecture  and  uLvi^-atiou."— JuET  Rktokt  of  tuk  Exmibitios  of  all  Natioss,  Londox,  l&U. 


[TEAM,  ill  its  application  to  the  purposes  of  navigation, 
was  first  successfully  employed  by  Robert  Fulton,  a  na- 
tive of  Little  Britain,  Pennsylvania.  His  peculiar  genius 
manifested  itself  at  an  early  age,  in  an  irrepressible  taste 
for  producing  drawings  and  various  mechanisms.  At  the 
age  of  twenty-one  he  was  intimate  with  Franklin.  He 
had  previously  painted  portraits  and  landscapes  in  Phila- 
delphia, and  derived  considerable  profit  from  the  occupa- 
tion. He  subsequently  sailed  for  England,  with  the  view 
of  seeking  Mr.  West's  aid  in  the  prosecution  of  liis  art. 
That  great  painter  took  him  into  his  family,  at  once.  In 
1793,  Mr.  Fulton  was  actively  engaged  in  a  project  to  im- 
prove inland  navigation.  Even  at  that  time  he  had  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  propelling  vessels  by  steam.  In  1804  he  had  acquired  much 
valuable  information  upon  the  subject,  and  written  it  down,  as  well  as  much  concern- 
ing his  own  life,  and  sent  many  manuscripts  from  Paris  to  this  country,  but  the 
vessel  was  wrecked  and  most  of  the  papers  destroyed.  About  this  period,  the  sub- 
ject of  canals  seems  to  have  been  the  principal  object  of  his  attention,  although  not 
exclusively.  In  1806,  Mr.  Fulton  left  Europe  for  New  York,  and  on  his  arrival 
in  this  country,  he  immediately  commenced  his  arduous  exertions  in  the  cause  of 
practical  science.  The  fertility  of  his  mind  in  this  direction  may  be  understood, 
when  it  is   stated  that,  in  1794,  he  had  beini  engaged  by  the  Duke  of   P>ridgewater  in 


FIRST   .STKAM-HOAT   OS  THE 
HUD.SON. 


GREAT  AND  TMEINIORABLE  EVENTS. 


213 


canal  projects,  had  ailopted  and  patented 
tlie  system  of  inclined  [danes  as  a  substi- 
tute for  locks,  and  had  written  a  treatise 
on  canals.  He  also  invented  a  mill  for 
sawing  marble,  patented  several  methods 
of  spinning  flax  and  making  ropes,  and 
constructed  a  torpedo  to  be  used  in  war, 
for  the  destruction  of  an  enemy's  vessels. 

At  what  time  Mr.  Fulton's  mind  Avas 
first  directed  to  steam  navigation,  is  not 
definitely  known  ;  but  even  in  1793,  he 
luid  matured  a  plan  in  wliich  he  reposed 
great  confidence.  No  one.  previously  to 
Mr.  Fulton,  had  constructed  a  steam-boat 


/Li^^  i^^^o 


in  any  other  way,  or  with  any  other  result, 
than  as  an  unsuccessful  experiment ;  and 
although  many  have  disputed  his  right  to 
the  honor  of  the  discovery,  none  have  done 
so  with  any  semblance  of  justice.  Miller's 
experiments,  which  simply  proved  the 
practicability  of  the  principle  of  propelling 
vessels  by  steam,  were  made  in  1787,  in 
Scotland;  but  Fulton's  boat,  which  began 
to  navigate  the  Hudson  in  1807,  was  cer- 
tainly the  first  practical  demonstration  of 
this  application  of  steam,  being  five  years 
prior  to  the  success  of  Henry  Bell  on  the 
Clyde,  and  nearly  ten  years  preceding  the 
first  attempts  on  the  Thames  river,  under 


Brunei's  direction.  The  incompleteness  of 
Fitch's  plan  is  matter  of  history,  though 
his  inventive  ingenuity  was  very  great. 

Among  those  of  Fulton's  own  country- 
men who  had  previously  made  unsuccessful 
attempts  to  render  the  force  of  steam  sub- 
servient to  practical  and  useful  purposes, 
was  Chancellor  Livingston,  of  New  York. 
As  early  as  1798,  he  believed  that  he  had 
accomplished  his  object,  and  represented 
to  the  legislature  of  the  state  of  New  York, 
that  he  possessed  a  mode  of  applying  the 
steam  engine  so  as  to  propel  a  boat  on 
new  and  advantageous  principles;  but  he 
Avas  deterred  from  carrying  it  into  effect, 
by  the  uncertainty  and  hazard  of  a  very 
expensive  experiment,  unless  he  could  be 
assured  of  an  exclusive  advantage  from  it, 
should  it  be  found  successful. 

The  legislature  in  March,  1798,  passed 
an  act  vesting  ]\rr.  Livingston  with  the 
exclusive  right  and  privilege  of  navigating 
all  kinds  of  boats  which  might  be  propelled 
by  the  force  of  fire  or  steam,  on  all  the 
waters  within  the  territory  or  jurisdiction 
of  the  state  of  New  York,  for  a  term  of 
twenty  years  from  the  passing  of  the  act, 
— upon  condition  that  he  should  Avithin  a 
twelvemonth  build  such  a  boat,  the  mean 
of  Avhose  progress  should  not  be  less  than 
four  miles  an  hour. 

The  bill  AA'as  introduced  into  the  house 
of  assembly  by  Dr.  Mitchell,  upon  Avhich 
'^-^-'L^^ occasion  the  Avags  and  the  lawyers  united 
their  powers  in  opposition  to  the  bill  in 
such  a  manner  that  the  good  doctor  had 
to  encounter  all  their  jokes,  and  parry  all 
their  blows. 

According  to  INIr.  Livingston's  OAvn 
account  of  these  most  interesting  circum- 
stances, it  appears  that,  Avhen  residing  as 
minister  plenipotentiary  of  the  United 
States  in  France,  he  tliere  met  Avith  Mr. 
Fulton,  and  they  formed  that  friendship 
and  connection  Avith  each  other,  to  Avliich 
a  similarity  of  pursuits  naturally  gives 
birth.  He  communicated  to  Mr,  Fulton 
his  vicAvs  of  the  importance  of  steam-boats 
to  their  common  country  ;  informed  him  of 
Avhat  had  been  attempted  in  America,  and 
of  his  resolution  to  resume  the  pursuit  on 


214 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


his  return;  and  advised  him  to  turn  his 
attention  to  tiie  subject.  It  was  agreed 
between  them  to  embark  in  the  enterprise, 
and  immediately  to  make  sucli  experi- 
ments as  would  enable  them  to  determine 
how  far,  in  spite  of  former  failures,  the 
object  was  attainable.  The  principal 
direction  of  these  experiments  was  left  to 
Mr.  Fulton. 

On  the  arrival  at  New  York  of  Mr. 
Fulton,  which  was  not  till  1806,  they  im- 
mediately engaged  in  building  a  boat  of — 
as  was  then  thought-^very  considerable 
dimensions,  for  navigating  the  Hudson. 
This  boat,  named  the  Clermont,  was  of 
one  hundred  and  sixty  tons  burden,  one 
hundred  and  thirty  feet  long,  eighteen 
feet  wide,  and  seven  feet  deep.  The 
diameter  of  the  paddle-wdieels  Avas  fifteen 
feet,  the  boards  four  feet  long  and  dipping 
two  feet  in  the  water.  She  was  a  queer- 
looking  craft,  and,  while  on  the  stocks, 
excited  much  attention  and  no  small 
amount  of  ridicule.  When  she  was 
launched,  and  the  steam  engine  placed  in 
her,  that  also  was  looked  upon  as  being  of 
a  piece  with  the  boat  built  to  float  it.  A 
few  had  seen  one  at  work  raising  tflie  Man- 
hattan water  into  the  reservoir  back  of 
the  almshouse ;  but,  to  the  people  at  large, 
the  whole  thing  was  a  hidden  mystery. 
Curiosity  was  greatly  excited.  Nor  will 
the  reader  be  at  all  surprised  at  the  state- 
ment made  by  an  eye-witness  and  narrator 
of  those  events,  that,  when  it  was  an- 
nounced in  the  New  York  papers  that  the 
boat  would  start  from  Cortlandt  street  at 
six  and  a  half  o'clock  on  Friday  morning, 
the  fourth  of  August,  and  take  jjassengers 
to  Albany,  there  Avas  a  broad  smile  on 
every  face,  as  the  inquiry  was  made,  if 
any  one  would  be  fool  enough  to  go? 
One  friend  was  heard  to  accost  another  in 
the  street  with — 

"John,  Avill  thoo  risk  thy  life  in  such  a 
concern  ?  I  tell  theo  she  is  the  most  fear- 
ful wild  fowl  living,  and  thy  father  ought 
to  restrain  thee  !  " 

AVhen  Friday  morning  came,  the 
wharves,  piers,  house-tops,  and  every 
'  coi'jiiG  dc  vtintufje '   from  which  a  sight 


could  be  obtained,  was  filled  with  specta- 
tors. There  were  twelve  berths,  and 
every  one  was  taken  through  to  Albany. 
The  fare  was  seven  dollars.  All  the 
machinery  was  uncovered  and  exposed  to 
view.  The  periphery  of  the  balance- 
wheels,  of  cast  iron,  some  four  or  more 
inches  square,  ran  just  clear  of  the  water. 
There  were  no  outside  guards,  the  balance- 
wheels  being  supported  by  their  respective 
shafts,  which  projected  over  the  sides  of 
the  boat.  The  forward  part  was  covered 
by  a  deck,  which  afforded  shelter  to  the 
hands.  The  after-part  was  fitted  up,  in  a 
rough  manner,  for  passengers.  The  en- 
trance into  the  cabin  was  from  the  stern, 
in  front  of  the  steersman,  who  worked  a 
tiller,  as  in  an  ordinary  sloop.  Black 
smoke  issued  from  the  chimney;  steam 
issued  from  every  ill-fitted  valve  and  crev- 
ice of  the  engine.  Fulton  himself  was 
there.  His  remarkably  clear  and  sharp 
voice  was  heard  above  the  hum  of  the  mul- 
titude and  the  noise  of  the  engine;  his 
step  was  confident  and  decided  ;  he  heeded 
not  the  fearfulness,  doubts,  or  sarcasm  of 
those  by  whom  he  was  surrounded.  The 
whole  scene  combined  had  in  it  an  individ- 
uality, as  well  as  an  interest,  which  comes 
but  once  and  is  remembered  forever. 

Everything  being  read}--,  the  engine  was 
set  in  motion,  and  the  boat  moved  steadily 
but  slowly  from  ihe  wharf  :  as  she  turned 
up  the  river,  and  was  fairly  under  way, 
there  arose  such  a  huzza  as  ten  thousand 
throats  never  gave  before.  The  passen- 
gers returned  the  cheer,  bxit  Fulton  stood 
upon  the  deck,  his  eyes  flashing  with  an  un- 
usual brilliancy  as  he  surveyed  the  crowd. 
He  felt  that  the  magic  wand  of  success 
was  waving  over  him,  and  he  was  silent. 

As  the  boat  sailed  or  steamed  by  West 
Point,  the  whole  garrison  was  out,  and 
cheered  most  lustily.  At  Newburg,  it 
seemed  as  if  all  Orange  county  was  col- 
lected there;  the  whole  side-hill  cit^' 
seemed  animated  with  life.  Every  sail- 
boat and  water-craft  was  out.  The  ferry- 
boat from  Fishkill  was  filled  with  ladies, 
but  Fulton  Avas  engaged  in  seeing  a  jias- 
senger  landed,   and  did   not  observe   the 


GREAT  A^D  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


215 


boat  until  she  bore  up  nearly  alonjrside ; 
tlie  flapping  of  a  sail  arrested  his  atten- 
tion, and,  as  he  turned,  the  waving  of  so 
many  handkerchiefs,  and  the  smiles  of  so 


In  a  letter  to  his  friend  and  patron,  Mr. 
Barlow,  Fulton  says  of  this  Clermont 'trial 
trip  :  "  My  steam-boat  voyage  to  Albany 
and    back    has    turned    out    rather    more 


many  bright  and  happy  faces,  struck  him 
with  surprise,  and,  raising  his  hat,  he  ex- 
claimed, ''  That  is  the  finest  sight  we  have 
seen  yet." 


favorable  than  I  had  calculated.  The  dis- 
tance to  Albany  is  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles.  I  ran  up  in  thirtj'-two  hours  and 
down  in  thirty.     The   latter  is  just  five 


216 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY'.— 177C-1S7G. 


miles   an   hour.       I    had 


light 


breeze 


against  me  the  whole  way,  going  and  com- 
ing, so  that  no  use  was  made  of  my  sails, 
and  this  voyage  has  been  performed  whol- 
ly by  the  power  of  the  steam  engine.  I 
overtook  many  sloops  and  schooners  beat- 
ing to  the  windward,  and  passed  them  as 
if  they  had  been  at  anchor."  Such  was 
the  modest  description  of  this  greatest  of 
modern  inventions. 

Of  peculiar  interest  and  entertainment 
is  the  following  narrative  connected  with 
this  historic  voyage,  from  tlie  graphic  pen 
of  one  who  was  a  personal  actor  in  the 
scene  described: — 

I  chanced  to  be  at  Alban}'^  on  business 
when  Fulton  arrived  there  in  his  unheard- 
of  craft,  which  everybody  felt  so  much 
anxiety  to  see.  Being  ready  to  leave,  and 
liearing  that  this  craft  Avas  going  to 
return  to  New  York,  I  repaired  on  board 
and  inquired  for  Mr.  Fulton.  I  was 
referred  to  the  cabin,  and  there  found  a 
plain,  gentlemanly  man,  wholly  alone,  and 
engaged  in  writing. 

"  Mr.  Fulton,  I  presume." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Do  you  return  to  New  York,  with  this 
boat  ?  " 

'*  We  shall  try  to  get  back,  sir." 

"  Can  I  have  a  passage  down  ?  " 

"You  can  take  ^our  chance  with  us, 
sir." 

I  inquired  the  amount  to  be  paid,  and, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation,  a  sum,  I 
think  six  dollars,  was  named.  The  amount, 
in  coin,  I  laid  in  his  open  hand,  and,  with 
his  eye  fixed  upon  it,  he  remained  so  long 
motionless,  that  I  supposed  it  might  be  a 
miscount,  and  said  to  him,  "  Is  that  right, 
sir  ?  "  This  question  roused  him  as  from 
a  kind  of  reverie,  and,  as  he  looked  up,  the 
big  tear  was  brimming  in  his  eye,  and  his 
voice  faltered  as  he  said — 

"  Excuse  me,  sir ;  but  memory  was 
busy  as  I  contemplated  this,  the  first 
pecuniary  reward  I  have  ever  received  for 
all  my  exertions  in  adapting  steam  to 
navigation.  I  should  gladly  commemorate 
the  occasion  over  a  bottle  of  wine  with 
you,  but  really  I   am   too  poor  even    for 


that,  just  now;  yet  I  trust  we  may  meet 
again,  when  this  will  not  be  the  case." 

Some  four  years  after  this  (continues 
the  writer  of  this  agreeable  reminiscence), 
when  the  Clermont  had  been  greatl}'  im- 
l^roved  and  her  name  changed  to  the  North 
River,  and  *vhen  two  other  boats,  viz.,  the 
Car  of  Neptune  and  the  Paragon  had  been 
built,  making  Mr.  Fulton's  fleet  consist  of 
three  boats  regularly  plying  between  New 
York  and  Albany,  I  took  passage  upon  one 
of  these  for  the  latter  cit^'.  The  cabin  in 
that  day  was  below ;  and,  as  I  walked  its 
length  to  and  fro,  I  saw  I  was  very  closely 
observed  by  one  I  supposed  a  stranger. 
Soon,  however,  I  recalled  the  features  of 
Mr.  Fulton  ;  but,  without  disclosing  this, 
I  continued  my  walk.  At  length,  in  pass- 
ing his  seat,  our  eN'es  met,  when  he  sprang 
to  his  feet,  and,  eagerly  seizing  my  hand, 
exclaimed — 

"■  I  knew  it  must  be  j^ou,  for  your  feat- 
ures have  never  escaped  me  ;  and,  although 
I  am  still  far  from  rich,  3'et  I  may  venture 
that  bottle  now  !  " 

It  was  ordered ;  and  during  its  discus- 
sion Mr.  Fulton  ran  rapidl_y,  but  vividly, 
over  his  experiences  of  the  world's  cold- 
]iess  and  sneers,  and  of  the  hopes,  fears, 
disappointments,  and  difficulties,  that  were 
scattered  through  his  whole  career  of  dis- 
cover}', up  to  the  very  point  of  his  final, 
crowning  triumph,  at  which  he  so  fully  felt 
he  had  arrived  at  last.  And  in  reviewing 
all  these  matters,  he  said — 

"  I  have  again  and  again  recalled  the 
occasion,  and  the  incident,  of  our  first 
interview  at  Albanj^ ;  and  never  have  I 
done  so  without  renewing  in  my  mind  the 
vivid  emotion  it  originally  caused.  That 
seemed,  and  does  still  seem,  to  me,  the 
turning  point  in  my  destiny — the  dividing 
line  between  light  and  darkness,  in  my 
career  upon  earth;  for  it  was  the  first 
actual  recognition  of  my  usefulness  to  my 
fellow-men." 

Even  at  this  early  period  in  the  employ- 
ment of  so  dangerous  and  slightly  under- 
stood a  motive  power  as  steam,  the  rivahy 
and  diversion  of  racing  was  indulged  in. 
It  was  in  the  month  of  September,  1809, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  E\"ENTS. 


217 


that  the  exciting  and  criminal  scene  of  a 
steam-boat  race  was  first  enacted.  A  com- 
pany from  Albany  bad  been  formed  for 
tbe  purpose  of  competing  with  Fulton. 
The  first  vessel  of  this  opposition  line  was 
advertised  to  leave  Albany  at  the  same 
time  as  Fulton's.  Parties  ran  high  in  the 
hotels  of  Albany.  The  partisans  of  Fulton 
wore  enrolled  under  Professor  Kemp,  of 
Columbia  College  ;  those  of  the  opposition 
under  Jacob  Stout.  The  victory  was  long 
ill  suspense;  and  it  was  not  until  after  the 
thirtieth  hour  of  a  hard  struggle  that  the 
result  was  proclaimed  by  Dr.  Kemp,  on 
the  taffrail  of  Fulton's  vessel,  and  holding 
out,  in  derision,  a  coil  of  rope  to  Captain 
Stout,  for  the  purpose,  as  he  remarked  in 
so  doing,  of  "  towing  him  into  port." 
AVhen  the  age,  high  standing,  and  sedate 
character  of  these  two  gentlemen  are  con- 
sidered, it  is  not  surprising  that,  in  course 
of  time,  women  at  the  West  learned  to 
devote  their  bacon  to  feeding  the  furnace 
lires  of  rival  steam-boats. 

The  complete  success  attending  steam 
navigation  on  the  Hudson  and  the  neigh- 
boring waters,  previous  to  the  year  1809, 
turned  the  attention  of  the  principal  pro- 
jectors to  the  idea  of  its  application  on  the 
western  waters;  and  in  the  month  of 
April  of  that  3-ear,  Mr.  Roosevelt,  of  New 
York,  pursuant  to  an  agreement  with 
Chancellor  Livingston  and  Mr.  Fulton, 
visited  those  rivers,  with  the  purpose  of 
forming  an  opinion  whether  they  admitted 
of  steam  navigation  or  not.  Mr.  Roosevelt 
surveyed  the  rivers  from  Pittsburg  to 
New  Orleans,  and,  as  his  report  was  favor- 
able, it  was  decided  to  build  a  boat  at  the 
former  place.  This  was  done  under  liis 
direction,  and  in  the  year  1811  the  first 
boat  was  launched  on  the  waters  of  the 
Oliio.     It  was  called  the  New  Orleans. 

Late  at  night,  on  the  fourth  day  after 
quitting  Pittsburg,  they  arrived  in  safety 
at  Louisville,  having  been  seventy  hours 
descending  a  distance  of  somewhat  more 
than  seven  hundred  miles.  The  novel 
ai)[)earance  of  the  vessel,  and  the  fearful 
rapidity — as  it  was  then  regarded — with 
which  it  made  its  passage,  excited  a  mix- 


ture of  terror  and  surprise  among  many  of 
the  settlers  on  the  banks,  whom  the  rumor 
of  such  an  invention  had  never  reached. 

Mr.  Livingston's  former  associate  in  his 
experiments  with  applying  steam  to  this 
purpose  was  Mr.  John  Stevens,  of  New 
Jersey,  who  persevered  independently  of 
Fulton  and  his  patron,  in  various  attempts 
to  construct  steam-boats.  In  this  enter- 
prise he  was  aided  by  his  son,  and  his 
prospects  of  success  had  become  so  flatter- 
ing, that  he  refused  to  renew  liis  partner- 
ship with  Livingston,  and  resolved  to  trust 
to  his  own  exertions.  Fulton's  boat,  how- 
ever, was  first  ready,  and  thus  secured  the 
grant  of  the  exclusive  privilege  of  the  state 
of  New  York.  The  Stevenses  were  but  a 
few  days  later  in  moving  a  boat  with  the 
required  velocity.  Being  shut  out  of  the 
waters  of  the  state  of  New  York,  by  the 
priority  of  Livingston  and  Fulton,  Stevens 
conceived  the  bold  design  of  conveying  his 
boat  to  the  Delaware  by  sea;  and  this 
boat,  which  was  so  near  reaping  the  honor 
of  first  success,  was  the  first  to  navigate 
the  ocean  by  steam.  One  of  the  most 
efficient  advocates  of  the  new  mode  of  nav- 
igation by  steam  was  DeWitt  Clinton. 

From  the  date  of  Fulton's  triumph  in 
1807,  steam  navigation  became  a  fixed  fact 
in  the  United  States,  and  went  on  extend- 
ing .with  astonishing  rapidity.  Nor  could 
a  different  result  have  been  rationally 
expected  in  such  a  country  as  America. 

In  person,  Mr.  Fulton  was  about  six 
feet  high,  slender  form,  but  finely  propor- 
tioned. Nature  had  made  him  a  gentle- 
man, and  bestowed  upon  him  ease  and 
gracefidness.  A  modest  confidence  in  his 
own  worth  and  talents,  gave  him  an  unem- 
barrassed deportment  in  all  his  social 
intercourse.  He  expressed  himself  with 
energy,  fluency,  and  correctness,  and,  as  he 
owed  more  to  his  own  experience  and 
reflections  than  to  books,  his  sentiments 
were  often  interesting  from  their  original- 
ity. But  what  was  most  conspicuous  in 
his  character,  was  his  calm  constancy,  his 
industry,  and  that  indefatigable  patience 
and  perseverance,  which  always  enabled 
him  to  overcome  difficulties. 


XXII. 

EXTENSIVE  AND   CALAMITOUS    EARTHQUAKE   AT   THE 

WEST.— 1811. 


Its  Convulsive  Force  Felt  all  Over  tlie  Valley  of  the  Mississippi  and  to  the  Atlantic  Coast — The  Earth 
Sudilenly  Bursts  Open  and  a  Vast  Region  of  Country  is  Sunk  and  Lost. — Awful  Chasms  and 
Upheavals. — Ruin  and  Desolation  Brought  Upon  the  Inhabitants  — Humboldt's  Interesting  Opin- 
ion of  the  Western  Eartiiquake. — Its  Central  Point  of  Violence — Teirible  Consternation  Produced. 

—  The  Ground  Swellings  and  Crackings. — Great  Agitation  of  the  Waters — Houses  Buried,  Boats 
Wrecked. — Giant  Forests  Crushed — Purple  Tinge  of  the  Atmospiiere. — Tliunder,  Lightning,  Flood, 
Etc. — A  Mighty  Struggle. — Hills  and  Islands  Disappear. — Burial  Grounds  Engulfed. — Nature's 
Si'crets  Unbosomed. — Lakes  Drained,  New  Ones  Formed — Present  Asj)ect  of  the  Country  — 
Account  of  the  More  Recent  Earthquakes  in  California,  tlieir  Characteristics  and  Destructiveness. 

—  Most  Serious  in  San  Francisco. — Lives  and  Property  Lost. — Women  and  Children  Panic  Struck. 
— Direction   of  the   Shocks  — Indications  of  their  Approach. — Effect  in  the  Harbor  and  Bay. 


"  Dtseawii  nature  oftentimes  brealts  forth 

In  strunte  ernptions  ;  and  the  teeming  eartU 

]■»  with  a  kind  of  colic  pineh'd  and  vex'd 

}ty  tlie  imprisoning  of  nnrnly  winda 

AViiliin  her  womt>^;  which,  for  enlnraement  striving, 

Sliikc  th"  old  beldame  Earth,  and  topple  down 

btcipks  and  mooB-giown  towers." 


AFTER  TUE   EARTHQUAKE. 


AKTHQUAKES  in  the  United  States 
7:3  liave  been  of  comparatively  rare  occur- 
^  rence,  so  far  as  any  extensive  destniction 
^^  of  life  and  property  lias  been  iiivolved. 
By  far  the  most  important  of  these,  prior 
to  the  disastrous  California  earthquakes  in 
1805  and  1868,  was  that  uhich  took  place 
at  New  Madrid,  in  Missouri,  below  St. 
Louis,  on  the  Mississijipi,  in  1811,  and 
which  is  always  spoken  of,  in  that  section, 
as  "  the  great  earthquake."  Over  a  region 
of  country  three  hundred  miles  in  lengtli, 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  to  that  of  the 
St.  Francis,  the  ground  rose  and  sank  in 
great  undulations,  and  lakes  Avere  formed, 
and  again  drained.  Humboldt  remarks 
that  it  presents  one  of  the  few  examjtles  of 
an  incessant  quaking  of  the  ground  for 
successive  months  far  from  any  volcano. 

The  central  point  of  violence  in  this 
remarkable  earthquake  was  tliought  to  be 
near  the  Little  Prairie,  twenty-five  or 
tbirty  miles  below  New  Madrid;  the  vibra- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


219 


tions  from  wliifli  were  felt  all  over  the 
valley  of  the  Oliio,  as  high  up  as  Pitts- 
burg. The  first  shock  was  felt  on  the 
night  of  December  sixteenth,  1811,  and 
was  repeated  at  intervals,  with  decreasing 
severity,  into  February  following.  New 
Madrid,  having  suffered  more  than  any 
otlier  town  on  the  Mississippi  from  its 
effects,  was  considered  as  situated  near 
the  focus  from  whence  the  undulations 
proceeded. 

The  water  of  the  river,  which  the  day 
before  was  tolerably  clear,  being  rather 
low,  changed  to  a  reddish  hue,  and  became 
thick  with  mud  thrown  up  from  its  bottom, 
while  the  surface,  lashed  vehemently  by 
the  convulsion  of  the  earth  beneath,  was 
covered  with  foam,  which,  gathering  into 
masses  the  size  of  a  barrel,  floated  along 
on  the  trembling  surface.  The  earth  on 
the  shores  opened  in  wide  fissures,  and, 
closing  again,  threw  the  water,  sand  and 
mud,  in  huge  jets,  higher  than  the  tops  of 
the  trees.  The  atmosphere  was  filled  with 
a  thick  vapor  or  gas,  to  which  the  light 
imparted  a  purple  tinge,  altogether  differ- 
ent in  appearance  from  the  autumnal  haze 
of  an  Indian  summer,  or  that  of  smoke. 
From  the  temporary  check  to  the  current, 
by  the  heaving  up  of  the  bottom,  the  sink- 
ins:  of  the  banks  and  sand-bars  ijito  the  bed 
of  the  stream,  the  river  rose  in  a  few  min- 
utes five  or  six  feet ;  and,  impatient  of  the 
restraint,  again  rushed  forward  with 
redoubled  impetuosity,  hurrying  along  the 
boats,  now  set  loose  by  the  panic-stricken 
boatmen,  as  in  less  danger  on  the  water 
than  at  the  shore,  where  the  banks  threat- 
ened every  moment  to  destroy  them  by  the 
falling  earth,  or  carry  them  down  in  the 
vortices  of  the  sinking  masses.  Many 
boats  were  overwhelmed  in  this  manner, 
and  their  crews  perished  with  them. 
Numerous  boats  were  wrecked  on  the 
snags  and  old  trees  thrown  up  from  tlK> 
bottom  of  the  Mississippi,  where  they  had 
quietly  rested  for  ages,  while  others  were 
sunk  or  stranded  on  the  sand-bars  and 
islands.  At  New  Madrid,  several  boats 
were  carried  by  the  reflux  of  the  current 
into    a   small    stream   that  puts  into  the 


river  just  above  the  town,  and  left  on  the 
ground  by  the  returning  water  a  very  con- 
siderable distance  from  the  Mississii>pi. 

It  is  an  interesting  coincidence,  that,  at 
this  precise  period,  the  first  steam-boat 
voyage  ever  made  in  western  waters,  added 
the  novelty  of  its  occurrence  to  the  con- 
vulsions of  nature  in  this  region.  The 
name  of  the  steam-boat  in  question  was  the 
New  Orleans,  commanded  by  Mr.  Roose- 
velt. On  arriving  about  five  miles  above 
the  Yellow  Banks,  near  New  Madrid,  they 
moored  opi>osite  to  a  vein  of  coal  on  the 
Indiana  side,  the  coal  having  been  pur- 
chased some  time  previously  for  the  steam- 
er's use.  They  found  a  large  quantity 
alread}'  quarried  to  their  hand  and  con- 
veyed to  the  shore  by  depredators,  who. 
however,  had  not  means  to  carry  it  off; 
and  with  this  they  commenced  loading. 
AVhile  thus  engaged,  the  voyagers  were 
accosted  in  great  alarm  by  the  squatters  in 
the  neighborhood,  who  inquired  if  they  had 
not  heard  strange  noises  on  the  river  and 
in  the  woods  in  the  course  of  the  preceding 
da}',  and  perceived  the  shores  shake — 
insisting  that  they  had  repeatedly  heard 
the  earth  tremble.  Hitherto,  however, 
nothing  remarkable  had  been  perceived, 
and  the  following  day  they  continued 
their  monotonous  voyage  in  those  vast  sol- 
itudes. The  w^eather  was  oppressivel}' 
hot ;  the  air  misty,  still  and  dull ;  and 
though  the  sun  was  visible,  like  an 
immense  and  glowing  ball  of  copper,  his 
rays  hardly  shed  more  than  a  mournful 
twilio'ht  on  the  surface  of  the  water. 
Evening  drew  nigh,  and  with  it  some 
indications  of  what  was  passing  around 
them  became  evident,  for  they  ever  and 
anon  heard  a  rushing  sound  and  violent 
splash,  and  finally  saw  large  portions  of 
the  shore  tearing  away  from  the  land  and 
lapsing  into  the  watery  abyss.  An  eye- 
witness says:  "It  was  a  startling  scene 
— one  could  have  heard  a  pin  drop  on 
deck.  The  crew  spoke  but  little;  they 
noticed,  too,  that  the  comet,  for  some  time 
visible  in  the  heavens,  had  suddenly  dis- 
ai)peared,  and  every  one  on  board  was 
thunderstruck." 


220 


OUR  FIRST  CEXTURY.— 1776-1876. 


SCENE  OF  THE  GREAT  EARTHQUAKE  IN  THE  WEST. 


The  second  day  after  leaving  the  Yellow 
Banks,  the  sun  rose  over  the  forests,  the 
same  dim  ball  of  fire,  and  the  air  was  thick, 
heavy,  and  oppressive,  as  before.  The 
p(ii-tentous  signs  of  this  terrible  natural 
convulsion  increased.  Alarmed  and  con- 
fused, the  pilot  affirmed  he  was  lost — as 
he  foxxnd  the  channel  everywhere  altered ; 
and  where  he  had  hitherto  known  deep 
water,  there  lay  numberless  trees  with 
their  roots  upward.  The  trees  that  still 
remained  were  seen  waving  and  nodding 
on  the  banks,  without  a  wind.  The 
adventurers  had  of  course  no  choice  but  to 
continue  their  route  as  best  they  could, 
but  towards  evening  they  were  at  a  loss 
for  a  place  of  shelter.  They  had  usually 
brought  to,  under  the  shore,  but  at  all 
points  they  saw  the  high  banks  disappear- 
ing, overwhelming  many  an  unfortunate 
craft,  from  which  the  owners  had  landed, 
in  the  hope  of  effecting  their  escape.  A 
large  island  in  mid-channel,  which  had 
been  selected  by  the  pilot  as  the  better 
alternative,  was  sought  for  in  vain,  having 
totally  disappeared,  and  thousands  of 
acres  constituting  the  surrounding  coun- 
try', Avere  found  to  have  been  swallowed 
up,  with  their  gigantic  growth  of  forest 
and  cane. 


Thus,  in  doubt  and  terror,  the}'  pro- 
ceeded hour  after  hour,  until  dark,  when 
they  found  a  small  island,  and  rounded  to, 
mooring  at  the  foot  of  it.  Here  theyla}', 
keeping  watch  on  deck,  during  the  long 
night,  listening  to  the  sound  of  the  waters 
which  roared  and  whirled  wildly  around 
them — hearing,  also,  from  time  to  time, 
the  rushing  earth  slide  from  the  shore, 
and  the  commotion  of  the  falling  mass  as 
it  became  engulfed  in  the  river.  The 
lady  of  the  party  was  frequently  awakened 
from  her  restless  slumber,  by  the  jar  of 
the  furniture  and  loose  articles  in  the 
cabin,  as  in  the  course  of  the  night  the 
shock  of  the  passing  earthquake  was  com- 
municated to  the  bows  of  the  vessel.  The 
morning  dawned  and  showed  they  were 
near  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio.  The  shores 
and  channel  were  now  equally  unrecogniz- 
able— everything  seemed  changed.  About 
noon  that  day  thej^  reached  New  Madrid. 
Here  the  inhabitants  were  in  the  greatest 
consternation  and  distress.  Part  of  the 
population  had  fled  for  their  lives  to  the 
higher  grounds  ;  others  prayed  to  be  taken 
on  board  the  steamer,  as  the  earth  was 
opening  in  fissures  on  every  side,  and  their 
houses  hourly  falling  around  them.  Pro- 
ceeding thence  they  found  the  Mississippi, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


221 


at  all  times  a  fearful  stream,  unusually 
swollen,  turbid,  and  full  of  trees,  and  after 
many  days  of  extreme  danger,  tinally 
reached  Natchez. 

After  shaking  the  valley  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi to  its  center,  the  earthquake 
vibrated  along  the  courses  of  the  rivers 
and  valleys,  and,  passing  the  primitive 
mountain  barriers,  died  away  along  the 
shores  of  the  Atlantic  ocean.  In  the 
region  of  its  greatest  force,  and  pending 
the  tremendous  elemental  strife  which 
tinally  ensued,  the  cun-eut  of  the  Missis- 
sippi was  driven  back  from  its  source  with 
ajipalling  velocity  for  several  hours,  in  con- 
sequence of  an  elevation  of  its  bed.  But 
the  noble  river  was  not  thus  to  be  stayed 
in  its  course.  Its  accumulated  waters 
came  booming  on,  and,  overtopping  the 
barrier  thus  suddenly  raised,  carried  every 
thing  before  them  with  resistless  power. 
Boats,  then  floating  on  its  surface,  shot 
down  the  declivity  like  an  arrow  from  a 
bow,  amid  roaring  billows  and  the  wildest 
disorder.  A  few  daj's'  action  of  its  power- 
ful current  sufficed  to  wear  away  every 
vestige  of  the  barrier  thus  strangely  inter- 
posed, and  its  waters  moved  on  in  their 
wonted  channel  to  the  ocean,  seemingly 
rejoicing  in  their  triumph  over  the  oppos- 
ing elements  and  forces. 

The  day  that  succeeded  this  night  of 
dread  brought  no  solace  in  its  dawn. 
Shock  followed  shock  ;  a  dense  black  cloud 
of  vapor  overshadowed  the  land,  through 
which  no  struggling  sunbeam  found  its 
way  to  cheer  the  desponding  heart  of  man. 
The  appearances  that  presented  themselves 
after  the  subsidence  of  the  principal  com- 
motion were  indeed  staggering  to  the 
beholder.  Hills  had  disappeared,  and 
lakes  were  found  in  their  stead  ;  numerous 
lakes  became  elevated  ground,  over  the 
surface  of  which  vast  heaps  of  sand  were 
scattered  in  every  direction;  while  in 
many  places  the  earth  for  miles  was  sunk 
below  the  general  level  of  the  surrounding 
country,  without  being  covered  with  water, 
— leaving  an  impression  in  miniature  of  a 
catastrophe  much  more  important  in  its 
effects,    which   had,  perhajis,   preceded  it 


ages  before.  One  of  the  lakes  thus  formed 
is  sixty  or  seventy  miles  in  length,  and 
from  three  to  twenty  miles  in  breadth;  it 
is  also  in  some  places  very  shallow,  and  in 
others  from  lifty  to  one  hundred  feet  deej», 
which  latter  is  much  more  than  the  depth 
of  the  Mississippi  river  in  that  quarter. 
In  sailing  over  its  surface,  one  is  struck 
with  astonishment  at  beholding  the  gigan- 
tic trees  of  the  forest  standing  partially 
exposed  amid  the  waste  of  waters,  branch- 
less and  leafless,  like  gaunt,  mysterious 
monsters.  But  this  wonder  is  still  further 
increased  on  casting  the  eye  on  the  dark- 
blue  profound,  to  witness  cane-brakes  cov- 
ering its  bottom,  over  which  a  mammoth 
species  of  tortoise  is  occasionally  seen  drag- 
ging its  slow  length  along,  while  countless 
millions  of  fish  are  sporting  through  the 
aquatic  thickets, — the  whole  constituting 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  features  in 
American  scenery  and  topography. 

The  lost  hills  or  islands  before  men- 
tioned are  of  various  extent ;  some  twenty 
or  thirty  miles  in  circumference,  others 
not  so  large,  and  some  are  even  diminutive 
in  size,  but  of  great  altitude ;  occasionally 
furnished  wath  fountains  of  living  water, 
and  all  well  timbered.  The  low  grounds 
are  in  the  form  of  basins,  connected  by 
openings  or  hollows ;  these,  not  being  as 
deep  as  the  bottom  of  their  reservoirs,  it 
happens  that,  when  an  inundation  takes 
place,  either  from  the  Mississijipi  river  or 
streams  issuing  from  the  surrounding 
highlands,  they  are  filled  to  overflowing — 
and,  when  the  waters  recede  below  a  level 
with  these  points  of  communication,  they 
become  stagnant  pools,  passing  off  by  the 
process  of  infiltration,  which  is  very  slow, 
in  a  thick,  black,  tenacious  loam,  or  l>y 
evai)oration  equally  gradual,  in  a  country 
covered  by  forests  and  impenetraWe 
jungle.  At  New  Madrid  and  its  vicinity, 
the  earth  broke  into  innumerable  fissures  ; 
the  church-yard,  with  its  dead,  was  torn 
from  the  bank  and  embosomed  in  the 
turbid  stream;  and  in  man}'  places,  the 
gaping  earth  unfolded  its  secrets, — the 
bones  of  the  gigantic  mastodon  and  ich- 
thyosaurus, hidden    within  its  bosom  for 


222 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY'.— 177G-1876. 


ages,  being  Lrouglit  to  the  surface.  Even 
at  the  present  day,  frequent  slight  shocks 
of  earthquake  are  tliere  felt,  and  it  is 
asserted  that,  in  the  vast  swamp  at  the 
back  of  the  town,  strange  sounds  may  at 
times  be  heard,  as  of  some  might}'  cauldron 
seething  and  bubbling  in  the  bowels  of  the 
earth. 

Flint,  the  geographer,  who  visited  the 
country  seven  years  after  the  event,  says 
that,  at  the  time  of  his  visit,  a  district 
west  of  New  Madrid  still  remained  cov- 
ered with  water,  and  that  the  neighboring 
forest  presented  a  scene  of  great  confusion. 
He  also  saw  hundreds  of  deep  chasms  re- 
maining in  the  alluvial  soil,  which  were 
produced,  according  to  the  inhabitants,  by 
the  bursting  of  the  earth,  which  rose  in 
great  undulations,  and  discharged  prodig- 
ious volumes  of  water,  sand,  and  coaly 
matter,  thrown  up  to  a  great  height.  As 
the  shocks  lasted  throughout  a  period  of 
three  months,  the  country  people  remarked 
that,  in  particular  districts,  there  were 
certain  prevailing  directions  in  which  tlie 
fissures  opened,  and  they  accordingly 
felled  the  tallest  trees,  making  them  fall 
at  right  angles  to  the  direction  of  the 
chasms.  By  stationing  themselves  on 
these,  the  inhabitants  often  escaped  being 
swallowed  up  when  the  earth  opened 
beneath  them. 

During  the  visit  of  Sir  Charles  Lyell  to 
this  region,  in  1846,  Mr.  Bringier,  the 
well-known  engineer,  related  to  him  tliat 
he  was  on  horseback  near  New  Madrid,  in 
1811,  when  some  of  the  severest  shocks 
were  experienced,  and  that,  as  the  waves 
advanced,  he  saw  the  trees  bend  down,  and 
often,  the  instant  afterward,  when  in  the 
act  of  recovering  their  position,  meet  the 
boughs  of  other  trees  similarly  inclined,  so 
as  to  become  interlocked,  being  prevented 
from  righting  themselves  again.  The 
transit  of  the  wave  through  the  woods  was 
marked  by  the  crashing  noise  of  countless 
branches,  first  heard  on  one  side  and  then 
on  the  other.  At  the  same  time,  powerful 
jets  of  water,  mixed  with  sand,  loam  and 
bituminous  shale,  were  cast  up  with  such 
impetuosit}',    that    both    horse    and    rider 


might  haA'e  perished,  had  the  swelling  and 
upheaving  ground  happened  to  burst  im- 
mediately beneath  them.  Some  of  the 
shocks  were  perpendicular,  while  others, 
much  more  desolating,  were  horizontal,  or 
moved  along  like  great  waves ;  and  where 
the  iDrincipal  fountains  of  mud  and  water 
were  thrown  up,  circular  cavities,  called 
sink-holes,  were  formed. 

Hearing  that  some  of  these  cavities  still 
existed  near  the  town.  Professor  Lyell 
Avent  to  see  one  of  them,  three-quarters  of 
a  mile  to  the  westward.  There  he  found 
a  nearly  circular  hollow,  ten  yards  wide, 
and  five  feet  deep,  with  a  smaller  one  near 
it,  and,  scattered  about  the  surrounding 
level  ground,  were  fragments  of  black 
bituminous  shale,  Avith  much  Avhite  sand. 
Within  a  distance  of  a  few  hundred  yards, 
were  five  more  of  these  "sand-bursts,"  or 
"  sand-blows,"  as  they  are  sometimes 
termed,  and,  about  a  mile  farther  west, 
there  is  still  pointed  out  "  the  sink-hole 
where  the  negro  was  drowned."  It  is  a 
striking  object,  interrupting  the  regularity 
of  a  flat  plain,  the  sides  very  steep,  and 
twenty-eight  feet  deep  from  the  top  to  the 
water's  edge. 

In  the  interesting  account  of  this  region 
and  of  the  event  in  question,  furnished  by 
Professor  Lyell,  in  his  book  of  travels,  he 
relates  the  reminiscences  of  a  citizen  of 
New  Madrid,  who  witnessed  the  earth- 
quake when  a  child.  He  described  the 
camping  out  of  the  people  in  the  night 
when  the  first  shocks  occurred,  and  how 
some  were  wounded  by  the  falling  of  chim- 
ney's, and  the  bodies  of  others  drawn  out 
of  the  ruins ;  and  confirmed  the  i)ublished 
statements  of  the  inhabitants  having 
availed  themselves  of  fallen  trees  to  avoid 
being  engulfed  in  open  fissures, — a  singu- 
lar mode  of  escape,  which,  curiously 
enough,  had  been  adopted  spontaneously 
in  different  and  widely-distant  places,  at 
the  same  time,  even  little  children  throw- 
ing themselves  thus  on  the  felled  trunks. 
Lyell  was  then  invited  to  go  and  see  sev- 
eral fissures  still  open,  which  liad  been 
caused  by  the  undulatory  movement  of  the 
ground,  some  of  them  jagged,  others  even 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


22o 


anil  straij^jlit.  Two  of  thom  Avoro  traccil 
i-ontimiously  for  more  tliaii  luilf  a  mile, 
and  a  few  were  found  to  be  parallel  ;  but. 
on  the  whole,  they  varied  greatly  in  diree- 
tion,  some  being  ten  and  others  forty-five 
degrees  west  of  nortli.  Tliey  might  easily 
liave  been  mistaken  for  artificial  trenches, 
though  formerly  as  deep  as  wells ;  the 
action  of  rains,  frost,  and  occasional  inun- 
dations, and,  above  all,  the  leaves  of  tlie 
forest  blown  into  them  in  countless  num- 
bers, have  done  much  to  fill  them  up. 

In  that  })art  of  the  forest  which  borders 
what  is  called  the  "  suidc  country,''  all  the 
trees  of  a  date  prior  to  1811,  although 
standing  erect  and  entire,  are  dead.  They 
are  most  noticeable  objects,  are  chiefly 
oaks  and  walnuts,  with  truidis  several  feet 
in  diameter,  and  many  of  them  more  than 
two  hundred  years  old.  They  are  sup- 
posed to  have  been  killed  by  the  loosening 
of  the  roots  during  the  repeated  undula- 
tions which  passed  through  the  soil  for 
three  months  in  succession.  The  higher 
level  plain,  where  these  dead  vioaarchs  of 
the    forest    stand,     terminates     abruptly 


newer  than  1812.  The  "  sunk  country  " 
extends  along  the  course  of  the  AVhite 
Water  and  its  tributaries  for  a  distance  of 
between  seventy  and  eighty  miles  north 
and  south,  ami  thirty  miles  east  and  west. 
It  is  not,  however,  confined  to  the  region 
west  of  the  Mississippi ;  for  several  exten- 
sive forest  tracts  in  Tennessee  were  sub- 
merged during  the  shocks  of  1811-12, 
and  have  ever  since  formed  lakes  and 
swamps. 

The  earthquakes  in  California,  especially 
those  which  occurred  in  18(55  and  18C8, 
and  boll)  in  the  month  of  October,  wei-e 
the  most  disastrous  in  respect  to  the  value 
of  property  destroyed,  that  of  October  21, 
18G8,  being  particularly  so.  At  San 
Francisco,  the  motion  was  east  and  west, 
and  several  buildings  on  Pine,  Rattery, 
and  Sansome  streets  were  thrown  down, 
and  a  considerable  number  badly  damaged. 
The  ground  settled,  which  threw  the  build- 
ings out  of  line.  The  principal  damage 
was  confined  to  the  lower  portion  of  the 
city,  below  Montgomery  street,  and  among 
old  buildings  on  the  made  ground.     The 


EARTnQUAKE  SCENE  IN  SAN  FKANCISCO. 


toward  the  bayou  St.  John,  and  the  sudden 
descent  of  eight  or  ten  feet  throughout  an 
area  four  or  five  miles  long,  and  fifty  or 
sixty  broad,  was  one  of  the  strange  results 
of  the  earthquake.  At  the  lower  level  are 
seen  cypresses  and  cotton-wood,  and  other 
trees   which    delight    in    wet    ground,  all 


custom-house,  a  brick  building  erected  on 
pile  ground,  which  was  badlv  shattered  in 
the  earthquake  of  1865,  had  now  to  be 
abandoned  as  unsafe.  Business  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  city  was  suspended,  the 
streets  were  thronged  with  people,  and 
great  excitement  prevailed.     The  parapets, 


224 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


walls  and  chimneys  of  a  number  of  houses 
fell,  causing  loss  of  life  and  many  accidents. 
At  one  place,  the  ground  ojjened  several 
inches  wide  and  about  forty  or  fifty  feet 
long ;  and  in  other  places,  the  ground 
opened,  and  water  forced  itself  above  the 
surface.  The  water  in  the  bay  was  per- 
fectly smooth  at  the  time  of  the  occurrence, 
and  no  perceptible  disturbance  took  place 
there  ;  the  shock  was  felt  aboard  the  ship- 
ping in  the  harbor,  as  if  the  vessels  had 
struck  upon  the  rocks.  The  morning  was 
moderately  warm,  and  a  dense  fog  covered 
the  cit3^  Not  the  slightest  breeze  was 
perceptible.  The  first  indication  of  the 
approach  of  the  earthquake  was  a  slight 
rumbling  sound,  as  of  something  rolling 
along  the  sidewalk,  coming  apparently 
from  the  direction  of  the  ocean.  The 
shock  commenced  in  the  form  of  slow,  hor- 
izontal movements,  while  the  movements 
of  the  great  earthquake  of  1865  were  per- 
pendicular. The  effect  on  buildings,  too, 
of  the  earthquake  of  1868,  was  widely  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  1865.  In  the  latter, 
glass  was  broken  and  shivered  into  atoms 
in  all  the  lower  parts  of  the  city,  by  the 
perpendicular  oscillations,  Avhile  compara- 
tively few  walls  were  shaken  down  or  badly 
shattered.  The  earthquake  of  1868  broke 
very  little  glass,  but  the  damage  by  the 
falling  of  cornices,  awnings,  and  Avails, 
was  immense.  Mantel  ornaments  and 
shelved  crockery  were  everywhere  thrown 


down  and  broken ;  top-heavy  articles  of 
furniture  tumbled  over ;  tanks  and  dishes 
containing  water  or  other  liquids  slopped 
their  contents;  clocks  stopped  running; 
door -bells  rang  ;  tall  structures,  like 
steeples  and  towers,  were  seen  to  swa}', 
and  the  motion  of  the  earth  under  the 
feet  was  unpleasantly  plain  to  walkers ; 
horses  started  and  snorted,  exhibiting 
every  sign  of  fear,  and  in  some  cases  dash- 
ing off  furiously  with  their  riders;  dogs 
crouched,  trembling  and  whining;  and 
fowls  flew  to  the  trees,  uttering  notes  of 
alarm.  The  panic  among  women  and 
children  was,  for  a  time,  excessive,  and 
their  cries  and  tears  were  very  moving. 

At  Oakland,  the  shock  was  very  severe, 
throwing  down  chimneys,  and  greatly 
damaging  buildings ;  in  several  localities, 
the  ground  opened,  and  a  strong  sulphu- 
rous smell  was  noticed  after  the  shock. 
The  court-house  at  San  Leandro  was 
demolished  and  one  life  lost.  At  San 
Jose,  several  buildings  were  injured.  The 
large  brick  court-house  at  Redwood  City 
was  completely  wrecked.  The  shock  was 
light  at  Marysville  and  Sonora,  and  severe 
at  Grass  Valle}'.  It  was  also  felt,  with  a 
good  deal  of  severity,  in  Stockton,  Sonoma, 
San  Lorenzo,  Alvarado,  San  Mateo,  Peta- 
luma,  Vallejo,  and  Sacramento;  in  the 
latter  place,  flag-staffs  and  trees  vibrated 
ten  feet,  and  the  water  in  the  river  rose 
and  fell  a  foot  and  a  half. 


XXIII. 

CAPTURE    OF    THE    BRITISH    FRIGATE    GUERRIERE    BY 
THE  U.  S.  FRIGATE  CONSTITUTION.— 1812. 


Captain  Dacres's  Insolent  Challenge  to  the  American  Navy  —Captain  Hull's  Eager  Acceptance. — His 
Unrivaled  Tactics  and  Maneuvers. — A  Short,  Terrific,  Decisive  Contest. — Yankee  Valor  on  the 
Ocean  a  Fixed  Fact,  Sternly  Respected  — The  Constitution  Becomes  the  Favorite  Ship  of  the 
Nation,  and  is  Popularly  Called  "  Old  Ironsides." — Cruise  of  the  Constitution. —  Hull,  the  "  Sea 
King,"  in  Command — A  Sail  !  The  Enemy's  Squadron  ! — Chased  Three  Days  by  Them. — Rowing 
and  Warping  in  a  Calm  — .Most  Wonderful  Escape  on  Record.— Another  Frigate  in  Sight,  the  Guer- 

riere. — Her  Signals  of  Defiance  — Yankee  Eagerness  for  Ac- 
tion.— The  Two  Frigates  Afoul. — Yard-arm  to  Yard-arm 
Encounter. — Fire  of  the  Constitution  Reserved. — Final  and 
Deadly  Broadsides. — Fearless  Conduct  of  her  Crew. — British 
Colors  Hauled  Down. — Sinking  of  the  Shattered  Wreck. — 
Armament  and  Power  of  the  Ships. — An  almost  Equal 
Match. — Anecdotes  of  the  Two  Commanders. —  Honors  to  the 
Brave  Victors. — Future  Annals  of  the  Constitution. — Her 
Varied  and  Noble  Career. 


"  Never  before,  in  the  history  of  the  world,  did  an  English  frigate  strike  fo  an  Ameiican, 
under  equal  circumstances."— London  Times. 


ROUDEST   among  the   triumphs  of  the  American  flag  will  for- 
\jj     ever  be  associated  the  career  of  that  noble  old  frigate,  the  Constitution, 

{^^    re-christened,  b,y  popular  acclaim,   "  Old  Ironsides,'^  for  her  grand 

and  victorious  resistance  to  British  domination  on  the  ocean,  in  succes- 
sive and  hotly-contested  battles.  The  greatest  of  these  triumphs  came,  too,  at  a 
time  when  the  public  heart  heaved  with  despondency;  and  the  sensibilities  of  a 
whole  nation,  deeply  wounded  by  the  ill-success  of  their  arms  on  the  frontier,  were 
suddenly  thrilled  with  joy  at  the  announcement  of  an  action  brilliant  beyond  all 
precedent  in  its  results,  in  the  annals  of  naval  warfare.  The  American  heart  beat 
high  and  warm,  as  the  news  of  this  proud  achievement  winged  itself  over  the  sea  and 
over  the  land,  and  from  the  western  to  the  eastern  hemisphere.  It  may  here  be 
stated,  as  an  interesting  naval  item,  that  the  first  commander  of  this  pet  frigate  was 
Commodore  Samuel  Nicholson,  brother  of  Commodore  James  Nicholson,  of  revolu- 
tionary note. 

Previous   to    the    final    declaration   of    war  against    Great  Britain,  in    June,  1812, 
preparation  had  been  made  by  the  United  States   government  to  send  to  sea,  imme- 
diately on  that  event,  all  the  frigates  and  armed  vessels  that  could  be  put  in  readi- 
ness, to  protect    American    commerce,  and    meet   the  enemy    on    the    ocean.     When, 
15 


226 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


however,  these  little  squadrons  left  their 
ports  to  contend  with  the  haughty  mistress 
of  the  seas,  every  American  breast  was 
filled  with  anxiety.  Indeed,  the  British 
naval  commanders  had  boasted  that  the}' 
would  drive  the  little  striped  bunting  of  the 
upstart  states,  in  affright  and  dismay, 
from  every  part  of  the  broad  ocean.  How 
the  Constitution  saved  herself,  on  first 
sighting  the  British  lion,  is  a  narrative 
uniting  the  romantic  and  miraculous. 

It  was  on  the  twenty-first  of  June,  that 
a  squadron,  consisting  of  the  President, 
the  United  States,  the  Congress,  the 
Hornet,  and  Argus,  under  the  com- 
mand of  Commodore  Rodgers,  sailed  from 
New  York  on  a  cruise  in  quest  of  British 
merchantmen,  then  on  their  way  from 
Jamaica  to  England.  Subsequently,  the 
frigate  Constitution,  Captain  Isaac  Hull, 
received  orders  to  join  the  squadron  of 
Rodgers,  and,  for  that  purpose,  sailed  from 
the  Chesapeake  on  the  twelfth  of  July. 
On  the  seventeenth,  being  off  Egg  Harbor, 
four  ships,  apparently  men-of-war,  were 
discovered  from  the  mast-head  to  the 
northward,  approaching  rapidly  with  a  fine 
breeze,  while  it  was  nearly  calm  about  the 
Constitution.  In  the  belief  that  it  was  the 
American  squadron,  waiting  her  arrival, 
every  effort  was  made  to  come  up  with 
them.  At  four  in  the  afternoon,  another 
ship  was  seen  to  the  north-east,  standing 
for  the  Constitution,  with  all  sails  set.  At 
ten  in  the  evening,  being  then  within  six 
or  eight  miles  of  the  strange  sail,  the  pri- 
vate signal  was  made  by  the  Constitution  ; 
which  not  being  answered,  it  was  con- 
cluded that  they  were  the  enemy's  vessels. 

And  now  commenced  what  may  justly 
be  termed  the  most  remarkable  series  of 
naval  tactics  and  maneuvers  ever  known, 
— the  most  wonderful  chase  recorded  in 
nautical  history, — resulting  in  the  success- 
ful, and  almost  miraculous,  escape  of  the 
American  frigate  from  a  whole  squadron 
of  British  vessels,  commanded  by  Captain 
Broke,  in  close  pursuit  for  nearly  three 
days  and  nights  ! 

The  position  of  the  Constitution  seemed 
hopeless  indeed,  when  she  found  that  one 


of  the  enemy's  frigates  was  within  about 
five  or  six  miles,  and  a  line-of-battle  ship, 
a  frigate,  a  brig,  and  schooner,  some  ten  or 
twelve  miles  directly  astern,  all  in  chase 
of  her,  with  a  fine  breeze,  and  coming  up 
fast, — while,  unfortunately,  the  wind  had 
entirely  left  the  Constitution,  so  that  the 
ship  would  not  steer,  but  fell  round  off 
with  her  head  towards  the  two  ships  under 
her  lee.  The  boats  were  instantly  hoisted 
out,  and  sent  ahead,  to  tow  the  ship's  head 
round,  and  to  endeavor  to  get  her  farther 
from  the  enemy,  being  now  within  five 
miles  of  three  heavy  frigates.  The  boats 
of  the  enemy  were  got  out  and  sent  ahead 
to  tow,  by  which,  with  the  light  air  that 
remained  with  them,  they  came  up  very 
fast.  Finding  the  enemy  gaining  on  him, 
and  but  little  chance  of  escaping,  Hull 
ordered  two  guns  to  be  ran  out  at  the  cabin 
Avindows  for  stern  guns  on  the  gun-deck, 
and  hoisted  one  of  the  twenty-four  pound- 
ers off  the  gun-deck,  and  ran  that,  with 
the  forecastle  gun,  an  eighteen-pounder, 
out  at  the  ports  on  the  quarter-deck,  and 
cleared  the  ship  for  action,  being  deter- 
mined they  should  not  capture  her,  with- 
out encountering  a  resistance  worthy  of 
Americans. 

At  about  seven  o'cloclf,  on  the  morning 
of  the  eighteenth,  the  nearest  ship  ap- 
proached within  gunshot  and  directly 
astern,  seeing  which,  Hull  ordered  one  of 
the  stern  guns  to  be  fired,  to  see  if  her 
masts  could  be  reached  and  disabled,  but 
the  shot  fell  a  little  short.  At  eight,  four 
of  the  enemy's  ships  were  nearly  within 
gunshot,  some  of  them  having  six  or  eight 
boats  ahead  towing,  with  all  their  oars  and 
sweeps  out,  to  row  them  up  to  the  Consti- 
tution, which  they  were  fast  doing.  It 
thus  appeared  that  the  noble  frigate  must 
be  taken — that  escape  was  impossible, — 
four  heavy  ships  being  already  so  near,  and 
coming  up  fast,  with  not  the  least  hope  of 
a  breeze  to  give  the  Constitution  a  chance 
of  getting  off  by  outsailing  them. 

In  this  situation,  and  finding  himself  in 
on]y  twenty-four  fathoms  of  water,  Hull, 
adopting  the  advice  of  Lieutenant  Morris, 
determined  to  try  and  warj)  the  ship  ahead, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


227 


by  carrying  out  anchors  and  warping  her 
up  to  them.  Three  or  four  hundred  fatli- 
onis  of  rope  were  instantly  got  up,  and  two 
ancliors  made  ready  and  sent  ahead,  hy 
which  means  the  ship  began  to  distance 
the  enem3''s  squadron  ;  but  the  latter  soon 
saw  this  movement,  and  adopted  the  same 
plan,  under  very  advantageous  circum- 
stances, as  all  the  boats  from  the  British 
ships  furthermost  off,  were  sent  to  tow  and 
warp  up  those  nearest  to  the  Constitution, 
by  which  means  they  again  came  up, 
almost  within  gun-shot  reach. 

From  nine  to  twelve,  Hull  employed  all 
hands  in  warping  the  ship  ahead,  and  in 
starting  some  of  the  water  in  the  main 
hold  to  lighten  her,  which,  with  the  heli) 
of  a  slight  breeze,  enabled  the  Constitution 
to  rather  gain  upon  the  enemy.  About 
two,  in  the  afternoon,  all  the  boats  from 
the  line-of-battle  ship  and  from  some  of 
the  frigates  were  sent  to  the  foremost  frig- 
ate, to  endeavor  to  tow  her  along  more 
rapidly,  but,  a  light  air  springing  up,  the 
Constitution  held  way  with  her  pursuer, 
notwithstanding  the  latter  had  eight  or  ten 
boats  ahead,  and  all  her  sails  furled  to  tow 
her  to  windward.  The  wind  continued 
light  until  eleven  at  night,  and  Hull's 
boats  were  kept  ahead,  towing  and  warp- 
ing to  keep  out  of  the  reach  of  the  enemy, 
three  of  the  frigates  being  now  very  near; 
at  eleven,  however,  a  fresh  breeze  blew 
from  the  southward,  when  the  boats  came 
alongside  and  were  hoisted  up,  the  ship 
having  too  much  way  to  keep  them  ahead. 

On  the  nineteenth,  the  enemy  stood  six 
sail  in  sight,  still  in  chase,  with  all  can- 
vas spread,  and  very  near.  The  Avind, 
however,  continued  to  increase,  gradually, 
during  the  whole  day,  and  Hull  gained  six 
or  eight  miles  upon  Broke,  notwithstand- 
ing the  latter  pressed  on  with  ever}'  inch 
of  sail  he  could  fling  to  the  breeze.  The 
hopes  of  the  Americans  were  now  un- 
bounded in  their  buoyancy,  and  those 
hopes  were  succeeded  by  unsj)eakable 
exultation,  when  it  was  discovered,  at  day- 
light on  the  morning  of  the  twentieth, 
that  only  three  of  the  British  vessels  could 
be  seen  from  the  mast-head,  the  nearest  of 


which  was  about  twelve  miles  off,  directly 
astern.  All  hands  were  now  set  at  work 
wetting  the  Constitution's  sails,  from  the 
royals  down,  by  means  of  the  engine  and 
fire-buckets,  and  it  was  soon  found  that 
the  enemy  was  left  far  in  the  rear.  At  a 
quarter-past  eight,  the  British,  fimling  that 
they  were  fast  drojiping  astern,  gave  over 
chase,  and  hauled  their  wind  to  the  north- 
ward. The  Constitution,  being  separated 
from  the  rest  of  the  American  squadron, 
made  immediately  for  Boston,  where  she 
arrived  in  safety,  and  remained  a  few  days. 

During  the  whole  of  this  most  remark- 
able, as  well  as  exciting  and  wearisome 
chase,  the  gallant  cre\y  of  the  Constitution 
remained  steadfastly  and  cheerfully  at 
their  stations,  without  murmur  or  confu- 
sion, and  not  only  they  and  their  officers, 
but  the  noble  ship  herself,  gained  a  high 
reputation  for  masterly  movement  and 
behavior.  Even  the  officers  of  the  British 
squadron  expressed  their  admiration  of  the 
consummate  nautical  knowledge  and  pro- 
fessional adroitness  displayed  by  Captain 
Hull,  in  maneuvering  his  ship  and  effecting 
his  escape. 

But  it  was  soon  to  be  proved  that  Hull 
was  no  less  a  sea-warrior  than  a  brilliant 
strategical  navigator.     On  the  second  day 


CAPTAIN    HULL. 


of  August,  Hull  again  put  to  sea,  pursuing 
an  easterly  course.  He  passed  near  the 
coast  as  far  down  as  the  bay  of  Fundy, 
then  ran  off  Halifax  and  Cape  Sable  ;  but, 
not  seeing  an}^  vessels  for  some  days,  Hull 
steered  toward  Newfoundland,  passed  the 


228 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


isle  of  Sables,  and  took  a  station  off  the 
gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  to  intercept  the 
Canada  trade.  While  cruising  here,  he 
captured  two  merchant-vessels.  On  the 
fifteenth,  he  chased  a  convoy  of  five  sail, 
captured  one  of  them,  and  prevented  the 
prize-ship  of  an  American  privateer  from 
being  re-taken.  Having  received  informa- 
tion that  the  British  squadron  was  off  the 
Grand  Banks,  and  not  far  distant,  he 
changed  his  cruising-ground,  and  pro- 
ceeded southward. 

On  the  nineteenth  of  August,  1812,  at 
two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  Constitu- 
tion being  in  latitude  forty-one  degrees 
and  forty-two  minutes  north,  and  fifty-five 
degrees  and  thirty-three  minutes  west 
longitude,  off  the  coast  of  Massachusetts, 
a  ship  was  discovered  from  the  mast-head 
of  the  Constitution.  Captain  Hull  in- 
stantly made  all  sail  in  chase,  and  soon 
gained  on  her.  At  three  o'clock,  it  could 
plainly  be  perceived  that  she  was  a  man- 
of-war,  on  the  starboard  tack,  under  easy 
sail,  close-hauled  to  the  wind ;  and  by  half- 
past  three  the  stranger  was  ascertained  to 
be  a  British  frigate, — the  Guerriere,  Cap- 
tain James  A.  Dacres.  This  vessel  had 
hoisted  at  her  mast-head,  a  flag  with  her 
assumed  name,  the  Warrior,  in  large  char- 
acters, and  on  another  were  inscribed  the 
words,  '  Xot  the  Little  Belt^ — the  latter 
being  a  British  sloop-of-war  that  had  been 
badly  handled  in  an  engagement  with  the 
United  States  ship  President.  The  Guer- 
riere had  looked  into  several  ports  inquest 
of  American  frigates,  and  given  a  chal- 
lenge to  all  vessels  of  her  class.  On  tlie 
heaving  in  sight,  therefore,  of  the  Consti- 
tution, the  British  commander  assembled 
his  crew,  pointed  to  them  the  object  of 
their  wishes,  assured  them  of  an  easy  vic- 
tory, and  was  answered  by  three  hearty 
cheers.  So,  too,  the  announcement  by 
Captain  Hull,  that  the  ship  in  sight  was  a 
British  man-of-war,  and  probably  of  about 
the  same  force  as  the  Constitution,  was 
received  with  lively  exultation  by  the 
brave  American  crew. 

Eager  for  battle  and  hopeful  of  victory, 
Hull  ordered  the  light  sails  to  be  taken  in. 


the  courses  to  be  hauled  up,  and  the  ship 
to  be  cleared  for  action.  The  enemy  now 
backed  her  main-top-sail,  and  waited  for 
the  Constitution  to  come  down ;  and  as 
soon  as  the  latter  was  ready  for  action,  she 
bore  down,  intending  to  bring  to  im- 
mediate engagement  the  British  frigate 
which  had  been  from  the  very  first,  the 
object  of  such  eager  attention  by  tlie 
Americans,  on  account  of  her  fine  ap- 
pearance and  peculiar  movements,  and 
leading  to  the  supposition  that  she  was 
a  craft  of  more  than  ordinary  import- 
ance in  the  estimation  of  the  enemy, 
—  a  sujjposition  that  did  not  fail  to  be 
realized. 

The  very  fact  that  she  bore  on  one 
of  her  flags  the  words  just  quoted,  in- 
dicated that  the  feeling  engendered  by 
that  event  was  a  terribly  sore  one  to 
the  British,  and  that,  if  it  were  a  pos- 
sible thing,  the  wound  was  to  be  healed, 
at  the  first  opportunity,  by  some  sig- 
nal act  of  retribution. 

On  the  Constitution  coming  within  gun- 
shot, the  Guerriere  fired  a  broadside,  then 
filled  away,  wore,  and  gave  a  broadside  on 
the  other  tack;  this  firing,  however,  pro- 
duced no  effect,  as  the  shot  fell  short.  The 
British  frigate  maneuvered,  and  wore  sev- 
eral times,  for  about  three-quarters  of  an 
hour,  in  order  to  obtain  a  raking  position, 
but,  not  succeeding  in  this,  she  bore  up 
under  her  top-sails  and  jib,  with  the  wind 
on  the  quarter.  It  is  related  that,  during 
this  time,  the  Constitution  not  having 
fired  a  single  broadside,  the  imjDatience  of 
her  officers  and  men  to  engage  was  so 
excessive,  that  nothing  but  the  most  rigid 
discipline  could  restrain  them.  Hull, 
however,  was  preparing,  with  the  utmost 
calmness  and  deliberation,'  to  decide  the 
contest  according  to  a  method  of  his  own. 

Making  sail  so  as  to  bring  the  Constitu- 
tion directly  \\\)  with  her  antagonist,  and, 
at  five  minutes  before  six  in  the  afternoon, 
being  alongside  within  half  pistol  shot, 
Hull  ordered  a  brisk  firing  to  be  com- 
menced from  all  the  Constitution's  guns, 
which  were  double-shotted  with  round  and 
grape   shot ;    and  so  well-directed  and  so 


GREAT  A.ND  MEMORAULE  EVENTS. 


229 


warmly  kept  up  was  the  Aincrican  firo, 
tluit,  in  tit'teen  minutL'S,  the  luizzeii-inast 
of  the  Guerriere  went  b}'  tlie  boaril,  and 
her  main-yard  in  her  slings.  Her  hull 
was  much  injured,  and  her  rigging  and 
sails  completely  torn  into  shreds.  The 
fire  was  kept  up,  in  the  same  spirited 
manner,  for  fifteen  minutes  longer,  by  the 
Constitution.  She  had  now  taken  a  posi- 
tion for  raking,  on  the  bows  of  the  Guer- 
riere, when  the  latter  could  only  bring  her 
bow  guns  to  bear  on  the  Constitution  ;  the 
grape-shot  and  small-arms  of  the  latter 
ship  completely  swept  the  decks  of  the 
British  frigate,  and  she  was  an  utter 
wreck. 

Thirty  minutes  after  the  commencement 
of  the  contest,  by  the  Constitution,  the 
main-mast  and  fore-mast  of  the  Guerriere 
went  by  the  board,  taking  with  them  every 
spar  except  the  bowsprit.  Seeing  her  con- 
dition, Captain  Hull  ordered  the  firing  to 
cease  ;  and  Captain  Dacres  then  struck  his 
colors,  which  had  been  fastened  to  the 
stump   of  the  mizzen-mast. 

Setting  her  fore  and  main  sails,  the  Con- 
stitution now  hauled  to  the  eastward,  to 
repair  damages.  All  her  braces,  a  great  part 
of  her  standing  and  running  rigging,  and 
some  of  her  spars,  were  shot  away.  At 
seven  in  the  evening,  she  stood  under  the 
lee  of  the  prize,  and  sent  a  boat  on  board, 
which  returned  in  a  short  time  with  Captain 
Dacres,  commander  of  the  ill-fated  frigate. 
In  the  action,  the  Constitution  lost  seven 
killed,  and  seven  wounded  ;  the  Guerriere, 
fifteen  killed,  and  sixty-two  wounded, — 
the  latter  including  several  officers,  and 
there  were  twenty-four  missing.  Among 
the  killed,  on  board  of  the  Constitution, 
was  Lieutenant  Bush ;  and  among  the 
wounded.  First  Lieutenant  Morris  and 
Master  Alwyn.  The  circumstances  were 
as  follows :  As  soon  as  the  two  vessels 
fell  afoul  of  each  other,  the  cabin  of 
the  Constitution  was  observed  to  take 
fire,  from  the  close  explosion  of  the 
forward  guns  of  the  enemy,  who  obtained 
a  small,  though  but  momentary,  advantage 
from  his  position ;  the  ready  attention, 
however,    of    Lieutenant    Hoffman,    who 


commanded  in  the  cabin,  soon  repaired 
this  accident,  and  a  gun  of  the  enemy's, 
that  threatened  further  injury,  was  effect- 
vuilly  disabled.  But,  in  a  moment,  affairs 
took  a  more  tragical  turn,  for,  the  vessels 
having  come  close  together,  both  parties 
prepared  to  board  The  English  turned 
all  hands  up  from  below,  and  mustered  for- 
ward, with  that  object,  while  Lieutenant 
Morris,  jNLister  Alwyn,  and  Lieutenant 
Bush,  sprang  upon  the  taffrail  of  the  Con- 
stitution, with  a  similar  intention.  The 
position  of  the  two  frigates  was  already 
giving  employment  to  the  sharpshooters  of 
either  side,  and  incessant  volleys  of  mus- 
ketry rattled  in  the  tumult  all  around. 
Morris  was  shot  through  the  body,  but 
maintained  his  post,  the  bullet  fortunately 
missing  the  vitals.  Alwyn  was  wounded 
in  the  shoulder.  Bush,  just  as  he  was 
making  the  spring,  was  pierced  by  a  ball 
in  the  head,  and  tumbled  headlong,  in  the 
speedy  agonies  of  death. 

On  the  Guerriere's  striking  her  flag,  and 
being  in  a  sinking  condition,  Captain  Hull 
immediately  sent  his  boats  to  bring  the 
wounded  and  prisoners  on  board  the  Con- 
stitution. At  aboiit  two  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  a  sail  was  discovered  off  the  lar- 
board beam,  standing  to  the  south.  The 
Constitution  was  instantly  cleared  for 
action ;  but  at  three,  the  vessel  stood 
away.  At  daybreak,  information  was 
received  from  the  lieutenant  on  board  the 
prize,  that  the  Guerriere  was  an  unman- 
ageable wreck,  with  four  feet  of  water  in 
the  hold,  and  in  a  sinking  condition.  As 
soon,  therefore,  as  all  the  crew  were 
removed  from  on  board  of  her,  she  was 
abandoned,  and  her  shattered  hulk  set  fire 
to  and  blown  up.  During  the  whole 
period  of  combat,  the  total  loss  on  board 
the  Constitution  amounted  to  seven  killed 
and  seven  wounded,  and,  as  soon  as  she 
had  rove  new  rigging,  applied  the  neces- 
sary stoppers,  and  bent  a  few  sails,  she 
was  ready,  as  has  been  seen,  to  engage 
another  frigate.  Captain  Hull,  in  his 
tribute  to  his  crew,  says :  "  The}^  all 
fought  with  great  bravery ;  from  the 
smallest  boy  in   the    ship    to    the    oldest 


230 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ACTION  BETWEEN  THE  FRIGATES  CONSTITUTION  AND  GUERRIERE. 


seaman,  not  a  look  of  fear  was  seen.  They 
all  went  into  action  giving  three  cheers, 
and  requesting  to  be  laid  close  alongside 
the  enemy."  In  the  very  heat  of  the 
engagement,  one  of  the  crew  of  the  Con- 
stitution, perceiving  that  the  flag  at  the 
foretop-mast  head  had  been  shot  away, 
went  up  with  it,  and  lashed  it  so  securely 


as  to  render  its  removal  impossible,  unless 
the  mast  went  with  it. 

The  total  casualties,  from  first  to  last, 
on  board  the  Guerriere,  in  killed  and 
wounded,  numbered  nearl}'  eighty,  com- 
prising about  one-third  of  her  entire  crew, 
and,  according  to  the  statement  of  Captain 
Dacres,   in  his   defense  before    the   court 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


231 


which  tried  him  for  the  loss  of  his  ship, 
she  had,  besides  being  dismasted,  received 
no  less  than  thirty  shot  as  low  as  five 
sheets  of  copper  beneath  the  bends. 

In  respect  to  armament  and  force,  the 
Guerriere  rated  thirty-eight  guns,  and  car- 
ried forty-nine,  one  of  which  was  a  light 
boat-carronade.  Her  gun-deck  metal  was 
eighteen-pounders,  and  her  carroiiades,  like 
those  of  the  Constitution,  thirty-twos. 
The  Guerriere  was  a  French-built  shiii, 
and  nearly  as  long  as  her  adversary, 
though  the  latter  was  somewhat  larger  and 
heavier.  The  Constitution  rated  forty- 
four  guns,  and  mounted  fifty-five.  On  an 
actual  weight,  however,  of  '■he  shot  of  both 
ships,  it  was  found  that  tne  Constitution's 
twenty-fours  were  only  three  pounds  heav- 
ier than  the  Guerriere's  eighteens,  and 
there  was  nearly  the  same  difference  in 
favor  of  the  latter's  thirty-twos.  The 
great  inferiority  of  the  Guerriere  was  in 
her  men,  as  she  mustered  but  two  hundred 
and  sixty-three  souls  at  quarters,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  absence  of  some  of  the  offi- 
cers and  men  who  had  charge  of  prizes. 
Captain  Dacres  had  also  some  ten  or  a 
dozen  Americans  in  his  force,  who  refused 
to  fight,  and,  much  to  his  credit,  he  per- 
mitted them  to  go  below.  The  Constitu- 
tion's complement  of  men  was  four  hundred 
and  fifty,  all  newly  shipped. 

The  character  and  peculiarities  of  this 
victory  have  been  justly  described,  by 
Cooper,  as  consisting  in  a  fine  display  of 
seamanship  in  the  approach,  extraordinary 
efficiency  in  the  attack,  and  great  readiness 
in  repairing  damages,  all  of  which  denote  a 
disciplined  man-of-war.  Nor  did  Captain 
Dacres  lose  any  professional  honor  by  his 
defeat.  He  had  handled  his  ship  in  a 
manner  to  win  the  applause  of  his  enemies, 
and  only  submitted  when  further  resist- 
ance would  have  been  as  culpable  as,  in 
fact,  it  was  impossible.  Less  can  be  said  in 
favor  of  the  efficiency  of  the  Guerriere's 
batteries,  which  were  not  equal  to  the  mode 
of  fighting  introduced  by  her  antagonist, 
and  which,  indeed,  was  the  commencement 
of  a  new  era  in  combats  between  single 
ships.     Never  was  any  firing  so  dreadful. 


The  news  of  this  brilliant  and  unexam- 
pled victory — the  first,  in  fact,  of  any 
importance,  as  yet  obtained  by  the  United 
States  in  the  present  contest,  —  was 
received  with  rapturous  applause  by  the 
American  people,  especially  in  view  of  the 
victory  having  been  achieved  on  the  water, 
an  element  upon  which  scarcely  any  Euro- 
pean nation  dared  to  cope  with  Brit- 
ish prowess.  The  event  was  therefore  as 
mortifying  to  the  pride  of  England  as  can 
possibly  be  imagined  ;  for,  in  the  long 
period  of  thirty  years  up  to  this  date,  it 
was  Britain's  boast  that  she  had  not  lost  a 
single  frigate  in  anything  like  an  equal 
conflict.  By  the  English  journals,  the 
American  navy  was  contemptuously  spoken 
of  as  "a  few  fir-built  frigates,  manned  by 
a  handful  of  dastards  and  outlaws  !  "  But 
the  generosit}'  and  heroism  of  Captain 
Hull  and  his  crew  extorted  praise  even 
from  the  vanquished.  Captain  Dacres,  in 
his  official  letter,  confesses  their  conduct 
to  have  been  "  that  of  a  brave  enemy — the 
greatest  care  being  taken  to  prevent  our 
men  losing  the  slightest  article,  and  the 
greatest  attention  being  paid  to  the 
wounded."  This  victory  of  Hull,  on  the 
ocean,  went  far  to  wipe  out  the  stain  upon 
American  arms  jjroduced  by  General  Wil- 
liam Hull's  unfortunate  campaign  in 
Canada.  The  victory  of  the  Constitution 
over  the  Guerriere  was  soon  followed  by 
the  capture  of  the  Frolic  by  the  United 
States  sloop-of-war  Wasp,  under  Lieuten- 
ant Biddle  ;  the  capture  of  the  Macedo- 
nian, a  large  frigate,  by  Commodore 
Decatur,  of  the  frigate  United  States ;  and 
the  capture  of  the  frigate  Java,  on  the 
twenty-ninth  of  December,  by  Commodore 
Bainbridge,  who  had  succeeded  Hull  in 
command  of  the  Constitution. 

An  amusing  anecdote  is  related  of 
Dacres,  showing  the  effect  of  circum- 
stances upon  the  gallant  captain's  temper. 
A  short  time  previous  to  her  capture  by 
the  Constitution,  the  Guerriere  had  fallen 
in  with,  and  taken,  a  French  prize,  France 
and  England  being  then  at  war.  Among 
the  passengers  transferred  on  this  occasion 
to  the  deck  of  the  Guerriere,  was  a  French 


232 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


gentleman  charged  with  dispatches  to  the 
American  government,  and  who,  on  pre- 
senting himself  to  the  British  commander, 
was  dispossessed  of  his  hooks  and  papers, 
and  peremptorily  ordered  to  go  helow. 
Overwhelmed  with  this  sudden  and  fatal 
termination  of  his  mission,  the  gentleman 
passed  several  days  in  great  distress  of 
mind,  aggravated  not  a  little  by  the 
haughty  bearing  of  Dacres.  Once  or 
twice,  addressing  him  with  his  blandest 
manner  and  best  English,  he  said — 

"  Captain  Dacre,  I  tank  you,  sare,  for 
my  government  deespatch  and  my  law 
books." 

"■  Go  below !  you  frog-eating,  sallow- 
faced  wretch,"  was  the  only  reply  of  the 
proud  Briton. 

Ere  long,  however,  a  sail  was  descried 
on  the  edge  of  the  distant  horizon.  Her 
gradually-increasing  size  gave  token  that 
she  approached,  and,  as  she  neared  to 
view,  the  tapering  spars  and  the  graceful 
trim  of  Yankeedom  were  seen.  Dacres, 
with  glass  in  hand,  had  observed  her  from 
a  mere  speck,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  satis- 
fied that  she  Avas  American,  gave  vent  to 
the  wildest  expressions  of  joy.  He  paced 
the  deck  with  exulting  step  —  swore  he 
would  'take  that  craft  in  fifteen  minutes,' — 
and,  to  crown  his  anticipated  triumph, 
directed  that   a  hogshead  of  molasses   be 

hoisted    upon    deck,    '  to    treat    the    

Yankees.'  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  this 
order  was  actually  obeyed ;  and,  at  almost 
the  first  shot,  the  Constitution  struck  the 
hogshead,  and,  its  contents  spreading  over 
the  deck,  conduced  somewhat,  no  doubt,  to 
the  Guerriere's  disadvantage  in  the  action. 
The  Frenchman,  who  was  meanwhile  a 
silent  though  not  an  uninterested  observer 
of  what  was  passing  before  him,  again 
put  on  his  most  winning  smiles,  and 
remarked — 

*'  Captain  Dacre,  sare,  wid  your  permis- 
sion I  stay  upon  deck,  and  see  de  fight." 

"  Go  to  the ,"  responded  the  rough 

old  salt — now  busied  in  preparations  for  a 
bold  and  brilliant  achievement. 

The  little  Frenchman  was  soon  snugly 
ensconced  among  the  rigging,  and  the  two 


vessels  continued  gradually  and  silently  to 
approach  each  other.  The  Constitution 
having  finally  got  within  reach  of  the 
enemy's  long-guns,  the  scene  that  followed 
is  thus  described  by  the  lively  "deespatch" 
bearer  : — "  Cajitain  Dacre,  he  sail  dis  way, 
and  den  he  sail  dat  waj^,  and  again  he  go 
— boom  !  De  Yankee  man,  he  say  nothing 
— but  still  keep  comin'.  Again,  Captain 
Dacre  sail  dis  way,  and  den  he  sail  dat 
way,  and  again  he  go — boom  !  Enfin,  de 
Yankee  man  go  pop,  pop,  pop, — pop,  pop, 
pop  !  I  say  to  Captain  Dacre,  '  Sare,  wid 
your  permission  I  go  below — ^tis  too  hot 
here!''" 

He  went  below ;  and  the  action  con- 
tinued. When  the  firing  ceased,  the  sleep- 
less little  Frenchman,  pee23ing  up  the 
hatchway,  espied  one  officer-like  man,  and 
Captain  Dacres  handing  his  sword.  The 
truth  flashed  upon  him  in  an  instant.  He 
rushed  u^ion  deck ;  and  finding  himself 
again  at  liberty,  he  capered  about  like  one 
'possessed.'  Finally  advancing  to  the 
now  mute  and  fallen  Dacres,  he  said,  with 
an  air  which  utterly  defies  description  : 

"  You  tell  me,  sare,  3'ou  take  dis  shij?  in 
fifteen  minutes ;  by  gar,  he  take  you ! 
Now,  sare,"  he  added,  with  a  low  and 
bitter  emphasis,  "  I  tank  you  for  my  gov- 
ernment deespatch  and  law  books.'"' 

As  has  already  been  stated,  the  crew  of 
the  Constitution  became  somewhat  impa- 
tient at  Hull's  cool  delay  to  commence 
action,  after  receiving  the  Guerriere's  first 
fire.  Even  Morris,  on  seeing  his  favorite 
coxswain  carried  by  a  shot,  looked  rather 
hard  at  '  the  old  man,'  as  Hull,  though 
young  in  years,  was  familiarly  called,  and 
then  walked  up  to  him,  saying,  by  way  of 
hint,  in  a  low  tone,  "The  ship  is  ready  for 
action,  sir,  and  the  men  are  getting  impa- 
tient." Hull  never  turned,  but,  keeping 
his  eye  steadily  on  the  enemy.  sini])]y 
replied,  "  Are  —  you  —  all  ready,  Mr. 
Morris  ?  "  "  All  ready,"  said  the  lieuten- 
ant. "Don't  fire  a  gun  till  I  give  the 
orders,  Mr.  Morris,"  was  the  rejoinder. 
Presently,  up  went  a  midshi])man  from  the 
main  deck,  and,  touching  his  cap,  said  to 
'  the  old  man,'  "  First  division  all  readj^, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


233 


sir, — the  second  lieutenant  reports  the 
enemy's  shot  liave  hurt  his  men,  and  he 
can  witli  dilHculty  restrain  them  from 
returning  their  lire."  "  Tell  them  to  wait 
for  orders,"  was  Hull's  rejjly  again,  with- 
out deigning  to  turn  his  head.  At  length, 
however,  when  the  Constitution  had  actu- 
ally become  enveloped  in  the  enemy's 
smoke,  and  even  the  old  gun-boat  men 
began  to  stare  w^onderingly,  up  jumped  the 
great-hearted  Hull  in  the  air,  slapped  his 
hand  on  his  thigh  witli  a  report  like  a 
pistol,  and  roared  out  in  a  voice  that 
reached  the  gunners  in  tlie  magazines, — 

"  Now,  Mr.  Morris,  give  it  to  them, — 
now  give  it  to  them, — fore  and  aft, — round 
and  grape, — give  it  to  'em,  sir, — give  it  to 


\ni !  " 


These  words  were  scarcely  uttered, 
before  a  whole  broadside  glanced  at  half 
pistol  shot — the  old  ship  trembling  from 
her  keel  to  her  trucks,  like  an  aspen, 
with  the  roar  and  crash  of  her  own  guns, 
— then,  instantly  shooting  ahead  and 
doubling  across  the  enemy's  bows,  another 


broadside  was  poured  into  her,  with 
three  deafening  cheers.  It  was  terrible. 
The  continual  boom  and  flash  of  the 
batteries  seemed  like  a  thunder-storui  in 
the  tropics. 

The  Constitution  arrived  in  Boston 
harbor,  the  last  of  August.  Never  did  any 
event  spread  such  universal  joy  over  the 
whole  country,  and  such  astonishment 
throughout  Europe,  as  this  complete  and 
magnificent  victory.  The  gallant  Hull, 
as  well  as  his  equally-gallant  officers  and 
crew,  were  received  with  enthusiastic  dem- 
onstrations of  gratitude,  wherever  they 
appeared.  He  was  presented  with  the 
freedom  of  all  the  cities,  on  his  route  to  the 
seat  of  government,  and  with  elegant  serv- 
ices of  silver-plate,  also  tlie  thanks  of  leg- 
islative and  other  bodies  ;  several  officers 
were  promoted ;  and  congress  voted  fifty 
thousand  dollars  to  the  crew,  as  a  recom- 
pense for  the  loss  of  the  prize. 

At  home  and  abroad,  the  valor  of  the 
American  sailor  was  acknowledged  to  be 
a  fixed  fact. 


XXIV. 


AMERICA    AND 
OTHER 


ENGLAND    MATCHED    AGAINST 
IN    SQUADRON    COMBAT.— 1813. 


EACH 


Lake  Erie  the  Scene  of  the  Encounter. — Sixteen  Vessels  Engaged. — The  British,  under  Captain  Bar- 
clay, one  of  Lord  Nelson's  Veteran  Officers,  and  with  a  Superior  Force,  are  Thoroughly  Beaten  by 
the  Americans,  under  Commodore  Oliver  H  Perry. — Every  British  Vessel  Captured  — General  Harrison 
Completes  the  Victorious  Work  on  Land  — Building  of  the  Fleet  on  the  Lake. — Great  Difficulties  to  be 
Overcome. — Commodore  Perry  the  Master  Spirit. — Completion  and  .^ailing  of  the  Fleet. — Challenge 
to  the  Enemy. — Line  of  Battle  Formed. — Perry's  Blue  Union-Jack. — Its  Motto,  "Don't  Give  Up  the 
Ship  !  " — Wild  Enthusiasm  of  his  Men. — Flagship  Lawrence  in  the  Van. — Meets  the  Wliole  Opposing 
Fleet. — Badly  Crippled  in  a  Two  Hours'  Fight. —  Huzzas  of  the  Enemy. — The  Day  Supposed  to  be 
Theirs — Indomitable  Peso!ution  of  Perry. — He  Puts  Off  in  an  Open  Boat. — Reaches  the  Niagara  with 
His  Flag. — Again  Battles  with  tlie  Foe. — Severe  and  Deadly  Conflict. — American  Prowess  Invincible. 
— Barclay  Strikes  His  Colors. — Perry  only  Twenty-seven  Years  Old. 


"■Wehavemet  the  enemy,  and  they  ars  oura."— Perry's  Memorable  Dispatch  ANNOUNCiira  His  Viotobt, 


OREIGN  nations,  who  still  smiled  incredulously  at  the  pre- 
tensions of  the  United  States  in  carrying  on  an  ocean  war- 
•3  fare  with  the  proud  "  mistress  of  the  seas/' — as  England 
was  everywhere  acknowledged  to  be, — were  now  to  receive, 
in  addition  to  the  splendid  victory  of  the  United  States 
frigate  Constitution  over  the  Guerriere,  fresh  and  decisive 
PERRY'S  FLAG  ON  LAKE  ERIE,  proof  of  the  uaval  supremacy  of  the  youthful  republic,  in  the 
magnificent  triumph  achieved  by  Commodore  Oliver  H.  Perry,  on  the  waters  of  Lake 
Erie.  Here,  for  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  the  western  world,  the  flag  of  a 
British  squadron  was  struck,  humiliatingly,  to  the  Americans.  Great  Britain  had 
already  been  signally  defeated  in  single  naval  combats,  during  the  present  contest; 
she  was  now  beaten  in  squadron, — every  one  of  her  ships  striking  their  colors  to 
the  stars  and  stripes. 

The  unexpected  and  disgraceful  surrender  of  the  northern  army  under  General 
Hull,  to  the  British,  rendered  a  superior  force  on  Lake  Erie  necessary  for  the  de- 
fense of  the  American  territory  bordering  on  the  lake,  as  well  as  for  offensive  opera- 
tions in  Canada.  Under  these  circumstances  Oliver  H.  Perry,  a  brave  and  accom- 
plished young  officer,  who  had  the  command  of  a  gunboat  flotilla  for  the  defense 
of  New  York,  was  designated  to  the  command  on  Lake  Erie.  But,  at  this  time,  the 
United  States  possessed  no  naval  force  on  the  lake  ;  the  only  vessels  belonging  to 
the  government  were  captured  at  Detroit.  The  southern  or  American  lake  shore, 
being    principally    a    sand    beach    formed  by  the  sediment  driven    by  the    northerly 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


235 


winds,  afforded  but  few  harbors,  and  those 
encumbered  with  bars  at  tlieir  entrance. 
At  Presque  IsU>,  ninety  miles  west  of  Huf- 
falo,  a  peninsuhi  extending  a  considerable 
distance  into  the  lake  encircles  a  harbor,  on 
tlie  borders  of  which  was  the  port  of  Erie. 

At  this  place,  Commodore  Perry  was 
directed  to  locate,  and  superintend  a  naval 
establishment,  the  object  of  which  was  to 
create  a  superior  force  on  the  lake.  The 
difficulties  of  building  a  navy  in  the  wil- 
derness can  only  be  conceived  by  those 
who  have  experienced  them.  There  was 
nothing  at  this  spot  out  of  which  it  could 
be  built,  but  the  timber  of  the  forest. 
Ship-builders,  sailors,  naval  stores,  guns, 
and  ammunition,  were  all  to  be  transported 
by  land,  in  wagons,  and  over  bad  roads,  a 
distance  of  four  hundred  miles,  either  from 
Albany  by  the  way  of  Buffalo,  or  from 
Philadelphia  by  the  way  of  Pittsburg. 
But  under  all  these  embarrassments,  by 
the  first  of  August,  1813,  Commodore 
Perry  had  provided  a  flotilla,  consisting  of 
the  ships  Lawrence  and  Niagara,  of  twenty 
guns  each,  and  seven  smaller  vessels,  to 
wit,  one  of  four  guns,  one  of  three,  two  of 
two,  and  three  of  one. 

While  the  ships  were  building,  the 
enemy  frequently  appeared  off  the  harbor 
and  threatened  their  destruction  ;  but  the 
shallowness  of  the  water  on  the  bar,  there 
being  but  five  feet,  prevented  their  ap- 
proach. The  same  cause,  which  insured 
the  safety  of  the  vessels  while  building, 
seemed  likely  to  prevent  their  being  of 
any  service  when  completed.  The  two 
largest  drew  several  feet  more  w-ater  than 
there  was  on  the  bar.  The  inventive 
genius  of  Perry,  however,  soon  surmounted 
this  difficulty.  He  placed  large  scows  on 
each  side  of  these  two,  filled  them  so  that 
they  sank  to  the  water-edge,  then  attached 
them  to  the  ships  by  strong  pieces  of 
timber,  and  pumped  out  the  water.  The 
scows,  in  this  way,  buoyed  up  the  ships, 
enabling  them  to  pass  the  bar  in  safety. 
This  operation  was  performed  in  the  very 
eyes  of  the  enemy. 

Having  gotten  his  fleet  in  readiness, 
Commodore  Perry  proceeded  to  the  head 


of  the  lake  and  anchored  in  Put-in  Bay, 
opi)osite  to  and  distant  thirty  miles  from 
Maiden,  where  the  British  fleet  lay  under 
the  guns  of  the  fort.  He  remained  at 
anchor  lierc  several  days,  watching  the 
British  fleet,  and  waiting  a  chance  to 
offer  battle. 

On  the  morning  of  the  tenth  of  Septem- 
ber, 1813,  the  enemy  was  discovered  bear- 
ing down  upon  the  American  force,  which 
immediately  got  under  Aveigh,  and  stood 
out  to  meet  him.  Perry  had  nine  vessels, 
consisting  of  the  Lawrence,  his  flag-ship, 
of  twenty  guns ;  the  Niagara,  Captain 
Elliott,  of  twenty  ;  the  Caledonian,  Lieu- 
tenant Turner,  of  three;  the  schooner 
Ariel,  of  four ;  the  Scorpion,  of  two ;  the 
Somers,  of  two  guns  and  two  swivels  ;  the 
sloop  Trij)pe,  and  schooners  Tigress  and 
Porcupine,  of  one  gun  each. 

The  force  of  the  British  consisted  of  the 
Detroit,  flag-ship  of  Commodore  Barclay, 
and  carrying  nineteen  guns  and  two  how- 
itzers; the  Queen  Charlotte,  Captain 
Finnis,  of  seventeen  guns  ;  the  schooner 
Lady  Prevost,  Lieutenant  Buchan,  of 
thirteen  guns  and  two  howitzers  ;  the  brig 
Hunter,  of  ten  guns;  the  slooji  Little 
Belt,  of  three  guns ;  and  the  schooner 
Chippewa,  of  one  gun  and  two  swivels. 
Thus,  the  belligerents  stood,  in  resj^ect  to 
force  and  power,  as  follows  :  The  Anuni- 
cans  had  nine  vessels,  carrying  fiftj'-four 
guns  and  two  swivels;  the  British,  six 
vessels,  carrying  sixty-three  guns,  four 
howitzers,  and  two  swivels. 

Commodore  Perry  got  under  way  with 
a  light  breeze  at  the  south-west.  Sum- 
moning  his  commanding  officers  b}'  signal 
to  the  deck  of  the  Lawrence,  he  gave  them 
in  a  few  words  their  last  instructions  ])re- 
paratory  to  the  approaching  battle,  and, 
unfolding  his  union-jack,  a  blue  flag  upon 
which  was  inscribed  in  white  letters  the 
motto  of  the  American  navy,  ''Don't 
GIVE  UP  THE  SHIP !  "  The  sight  of  this 
flag,  bearing  upon  it  the  d3'ing  words  of 
the  brave  Captain  Lawrence,  brought  the 
most  enthusiastic  cheers  from  the  crew. 
As  the  officers  were  about  taking  their 
leave,    Perry   declared    that    it    was    his 


236 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


intention  to  bring  the  enemy  to  close  quar- 
ters from  the  first,  and  that  he  coukl  not 
advise  them  better  than  in  the  words  of 
Lord  Nelson — "  If  you  lay  your  enemy 
close  alongside,  30U  can  not  be  out  of  your 
place."  As  soon,  therefore,  as  the  ajD- 
2:)roach  of  the  enemy  warranted  the  display 
of  the  signal,  every  vessel  was  under  sail, 
beating  out  against  a  light  head-wind,  and 
with  the  boats  ahead  towing.  The  object 
was,  to  beat  to  the  windward  of  the 
islands  which  now  interposed  between  the 
two  approaching  squadrons,  and,  thus  gain- 
ing the  weather-gauge,  to  bear  down  with 
that  important  advantage  upon  the  foe. 
The  wind,  however,  was  light  and  baffling; 
and  Perry's  patience  was  so  severely  tried 
by  the  incessant  tacking,  that,  seeing  time 
lost,  and  but  little  progress  made,  he 
called  out  to  his  sailing-master, — 

"  Taylor,  you  wear  shij)  and  run  to  the 
leeward  of  the  islands." 

"  Then  we'll  have  to  engage  the  enemy 
from  the  leeward,"  exclaimed  Taylor. 

"I  don't  care — to  windward  or  to  lee- 
ward, tlit'ij  slid II  fi'jlif  to-daij,''^  was  Perry's 
instant  response. 


He  now  formed  the  line  of  battle,  the 
wind  suddenly  shifting  to  the  south-east, 
thus  bearing  the  squadron  clear  of  the 
islands,  and  enabling  it  to  keep  the 
weather-gauge.  But  the  moderateness  of 
the  breeze  caused  the  hostile  squadrons  to 
approach  each  other  but  slowly,  thus  pro- 


longing the  solemn  interval  of  suspense 
and  anxiety  which  precedes  a  battle.  The 
order  and  regularity  of  naval  discipline 
heightened  the  dreadful  quiet  of  this 
impressive  prelude.  No  noise,  no  bustle, 
prevailed  to  distract  the  mind — except,  at 
intervals,  the  shrill  pipings  of  the  boat- 
swain's whistle,  or  a  murmuring  whisper 
among  the  men,  who  stood  in  groups 
around  their  guns,  with  lighted  matches, 
narrowly  watching  the  movements  of  the 
foe,  and  sometimes  stealing  a  glance  at  the 
countenances  of  their  commanders.  In 
this  manner,  the  opposing  fleets  gradually 
neared  each  other  in  awful  silence.  Even 
the  sick  felt  a  thrill  of  the  pervading  deep 
emotion,  and,  with  fancied  renewal  of 
strength,  offered  their  feeble  services  in 
the  coming  conflict.  To  one  of  these  poor 
fellows,  who  had  crawled  up  on  deck,  to 
have  a  hand  in  the  fight,  the  sailing-master 
said : 

"  Go  below,  Mays,  you  are  too  weak  to 
be  here." 

"I  can  do  something,  sir,"  rej^lied  the 
brave  old  tar. 

"  What  can  you  do  ?  " 

"■  I  can  sound  the  pump,  sir,  and  let  a 
strong  man  go  to  the  guns." 

It  was  even  so.  He  sat  down  by  the 
i^ump,  and  sent  the  strong  man  to  the 
guns ;  and  when  the  fight  was  ended, 
there  he  was  found,  with  a  ball  in  his 
heart.  He  was  from  Newport;  his  name, 
Wilson  Mays  ;  his  monument  and  epitaph, 
the  grateful  memory  of  a  whole  nation. 

As  they  were  coming  nearer  and  nearer 
the  British  fleet  (says  Dr.  Tomes,  in  his 
admirable  delineation  of  this  battle),  and 
by  twelve  o'clock  would  certainly  be  in 
the  midst  of  action,  the  noonday-grog  was 
served  in  advance,  and  the  bread-bags 
freely  emptied.  In  a  moment  after,  how- 
ever, every  man  was  again  at  quarters. 
Perry  now  went  round  the  deck,  from  gun 
to  gun,  stopping  at  each,  carefully  exam- 
ining its  condition,  and  passing  a  cheerful 
word  with  the  ''captain."  .  Recognizing 
some  of  the  old  tars  who  had  served  on 
board  the  Constitution,  he  said,  "  Well, 
boys  !    are    you    ready  ? "       "  All    ready, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


237 


your  honor  !  "  was  the  prompt  reply,  as 
they  touched  their  tarpaulins,  or  the  hand- 
kerchiefs in  which  some  of  them  had 
wrapped  their  heads,  that  they  might  be  as 
unencumbered  as  possible  for  the  fight. 
■'But  I  need  not  say  anything  to  you," 
r.'joined  their  commander  —  '^  i/oa  know 
how  to  beat  these  fellows" — and  he  passed 
on.  His  face  now  beamed  with  a  smile  of 
friendly  interest  as  he  recognized  some  of 
his  fellow-townsmen,  exclaiming,  "  Ah, 
here  are  the  Newport  boys  !  TJieij  will  do 
their  duty,  I  warrant." 

At  fifteen  minutes  after  eleven,  a  bugle 
was  sounded  on  board  the  enemy's  head- 
most ship,  the  Detroit,  loud  cheers  burst 
from  all  their  crews,  and  a  tremendous  fire 
opened  upon  the  Lawrence,  from  the 
British  long-guns,  and  which,  from  the 
shortness  of  the  Lawrence's,  the  latter  was 
obliged  to  sustain  for  some  forty  minutes, 
without  being  able  to  return  a  shot. 

Losing  no  time  in  waiting  for  the  other 
ships,  Commodore  Perry  kept  on  his  course 
in  such  gallant  and  determined  style,  that 
the  enemy  supposed  he  meant  immediately 
to  board.  At  about  twelve  o'clock,  having 
gained  a  more  favorable  position,  the  Law- 
rence opened  her  fire,  but  the  long-guns  of 
the  British  still  gave  them  greatly  the 
advantage,  and  the  Lawrence  was  exceed- 
ingly cut  up,  without  being  able  to  do 
much  of  any  damage  in  return.  Their 
shot  pierced  her  side  in  all  directions,  even 
killing  the  men  in  the  berth-deck  and 
steerage,  where  they  had  been  carried  to 
be  dressed.  One  shot  had  nearly  produced 
a  fatal  explosion ;  passing  through  the 
light  room,  it  knocked  the  snuff  of  the 
candle  into  the  magazine — but  which  was 
fortunately  seen  by  the  gunner,  who  had 
the  presence  of  mind  immediately  to  seize 
and  extinguish  it.  It  appeared  to  be  the 
enemy's  plan  at  all  events  to  destroy  the 
commander's  ship  ;  their  heaviest  fire  was 
directed  against  the  Lawrence,  and  blazed 
incessantly  from  all  their  largest  vessels. 

Finding  the  peculiar  and  i.Timinent 
hazard  of  his  situation,  Perry  made  all 
sail,  and  directed  the  other  vessels  to 
follow,  for  the  purj)Ose  of  closing  with  the 


enemy.  The  tremendous  fije,  however, 
to  which  he  was  exposed,  soon  cut  away 
every  brace  and  bowline  of  the  Lawrence, 
and  she  became  unmanageable.  The  other 
vessels  were  unable  to  get  up;  and  in  this 
disastrous  situation,  therefore,  she  still 
continued  to  sustain  the  main  force  of  the 
enemy's  fire,  Avithin  canister  distance, 
though,  during  a  considerable  part  of  this 
terrible  ordeal,  not  more  than  two  or  three 
of  her  guns  could  be  brought  to  bear  with 
any  material  effect  upon  her  antagonist. 

Throughout  all  this  scene  of  ghastly 
horror,  however,  the  utmost  order  and  reg- 
ularity prevailed,  without  the  least  sign  of 
trepidation  or  faintheartedness  ;  as  fast  as 
the  men  at  the  guns  were  wounded,  they 
were  quietly  carried  below,  and  others 
stepped  manfully  into  their  places ;  the 
dead  remained  where  they  fell,  until  after 
the  action. 

At  this  juncture,  the  enemy  believed 
the  battle  to  be  won.  The  Lawrence  was 
reduced  to  a  mere  wreck  ;  her  deck  was 
streaming  with  blood,  and  covered  with 
the  mangled  limbs  and  bodies  of  the  slain, 
nearly  the  whole  of  her  crew  were  either 
killed  or  wounded ;  her  guns,  too,  were 
dismounted, — the  commodore  and  his  offi- 
cers personally  working  the  last  that  was 
capable  of  service,  assisted  by  the  few 
hands  yet  remaining  capable  of  duty. 
According  to  the  account  given  by  Dr. 
Parsons,  the  surgeon  of  the  Lawrence,  the 
muscular  material  was  reduced  to  its  abso- 
lute minimum.  "When  the  battle  had 
raged  an  hour  and  a  half,"  says  Dr.  Par- 
sons, "I  heard  a  call  for  me  at  the  small 
skylight,  and,  stepping  toward  it,  I  saw  it 
was  the  commodore,  whose  countenance 
was  calm  and  placid  as  if  on  ordinary 
duty.  'Doctor,'  said  he,  'send  me  one  of 
your  men,' — meaning  one  of  the  six  that 
were  to  assist  me ;  which  was  done  in- 
stantly. In  five  minutes  the  call  was 
repeated  and  obe.yed ;  and  at  the  seventh 
call,  I  told  him  he  had  them  all.  He 
asked  if  any  could  pull  a  rope,  when  two 
or  tliree  of  the  wounded  crawled  upon  deck 
to  IcikI  a  feeble  hand  in  pulling  at  the  last 
guns."     So  close  and   desperate  was  this 


238 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


•"^  ^il 


conflict ;  so  brave  and  courageous 
the  liearts  of  those  wlio  fought  for 
the  honor  and  rights  of  America. 

It  was  two  o'clock,  and  Captain 
Elliott,  of  the  Niagara,  was 
enabled  by  the  aid  of  a  fresh 
breeze  to  bring  his  ship  into 
close  action  in  gallant  style. 
Finding,  now,  that  no  resistance 
or  hostility  on  the  part  of  the 
Lawrence  could  be  profitably  per- 
sisted in.  Perry  suddenly  formed 
the  determination  to  shift  his  flag 
to  Elliott's  ship ;  and,  leaving  his 
own  vessel  in  charge  of  her 
lieutenant,  the  brave  and  gallant 
Yarnall,  he  hauled  down  his 
union-jack,  and,  taking  it  under 
his  arm,  ordered  a  boat  to  put 
him  on  board  the  Niagara.  He 
passed  the  line  of  the  enemy, 
exposed  to  a  perfect  shower  of 
their  musketry,  still  standing  in 
the  boat, — waving  his  sword  and 
gallantly  cheering  his  men, —  a 
marked  and  pointed  object  from 
three  of  the  enemy's  ships,  until 
he  Avas  forcibly  ]3ulled  down  by 
his  own  men.  He  arrived  safe, 
and  tumultuous  huzzas  rent  the 
air  as  he  again  unfurled  and 
hoisted  aloft  his  union-jack,  with 
its  inspiring  motto,  'Don't  give 
up  the  ship  ! '  gaily  kissing  the 
breeze.  On  seeing  their  noble 
commander  step  upon  the  deck  of 
the  Niagara,  the  crew  of  the 
Lawrence  —  the  few  that  yet 
remained  —  sent  up  three  lusty 
cheers.  The  question  with  which 
Elliott  first  saluted  Perry  was — 

"  How  is  the  day  going  ?  " 

"  Badly  !  "  was  the  brief  reply  ; 
"and  do  you  see  those  infernal 
gun-boats — thei/  have  lost  us  the 
victory !  " 

"  No  !  "  exclaimed  Elliott ;  "  do 
3^ou  take  command  of  this  ship, 
and  I  will  bring  up  the  boats." 

Elliott  at  once  put  off,  to  bring 
up  the  schooners  which  had  been 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


539 


kept  back  by  the  lightness  of  tlie  wind. 
At  this  moment,  tlie  flag  of  the  Lawrence 
was  hauled  down.  Lieutenant  Yarnall, 
upon  whom  the  command  of  the  vessel 
devolved  after  the  commodore  left  her, 
refused  for  some  time  to  leave  the  deck, 
though  more  than  once  wounded;  and 
Lieutenant  Brooks  and  Midshipman  Saul 
were  both  killed.  As  the  surgeon  was 
stooping,  in  the  act  of  dressing  or  examin- 
ing a  wound,  a  ball  passed  through  the 
ship  a  few  inches  from  his  head,  which, 
had  it  been  erect,  must  have  been  taken 
off.  The  principal  force  of  the  enemy's  fire 
had  now  been  sustained  uninterruptedly 
by  the  Lawrence,  and,  as  she  was  rendered 
totally  incapable  of  defense,  any  further 
show  of  resistance  would  have  been  a  use- 
less sacrifice  of  the  remnant  of  her  brave 
and  mangled  crew.  The  enemy  were  at 
the  same  time  so  crippled,  that  they  were 
unable  to  take  possession  of  her,  and  cir- 
cumstances soon  enabled  her  crew  again 
to  raise  the  American  flag. 

Commodore  Perry  now  gave  the  signal 
to  all  the  vessels  for  close  action.  The 
small  vessels,  under  the  direction  of  Elli- 
ott, got  out  their  sweeps,  and  made  all 
sail.  On  an  inspection  of  the  Niagara, 
and  finding  her  but  little  injured.  Perry 
determined  upon  the  bold  and  desperate 
expedient  of  breaking  the  enemy's  line ; 
he  accordingly  bore  up  and  passed  the 
head  of  the  two  ships  and  brig,  giving 
them  a  raking  fire  from  his  starboard 
guns,  and  also  a  raking  fire  upon  a  large 
schooner  and  sloop,  from  his  larboard 
quarter,  at  half  pistol  shot. 

Having  brought  the  whole  squadron 
into  action.  Perry  luffed  up  and  laid  his 
ship  alongside  of  the  British  commodore, 
Barclay,  of  the  Lady  Prevost.  Approach- 
ing within  half  pistol  shot,  Perry's  fire 
was  so  destructive  that  the  enemy's  men 
were  compelled  to  run  below.  At  this 
moment  the  wind  freshened,  and  the  Cal- 
edonia came  up  and  opened  her  fire  upon 
the  British ;  and  several  others  of  the 
squadron  were  enabled  soon  after  to  do 
the  same, — the  small  vessels  having  now 
got    up    within     good     grape-and-canister 


distance  on  the  other  quarter,  inclosed 
their  enemy  between  them  and  the  Niag- 
ara, and  in  this  position  kept  up  a  most 
deadly  fire  on  both  quarters  of  the  British. 
For  a  time,  the  combat  raged  with  inde- 
scribable violence  and  fury.  The  result  of 
a  campaign — the  command  of  a  sea — the 
glory  and  renown  of  two  rival  nations 
matched  for  the  first  time  in  squadron, — 
these  were  the  issues  at  stake  which  in- 
spirited the  combatants.  The  contest  was 
not  long  doubtful.  The  Queen  Charlotte 
having  lost  her  captain  and  all  her  princi- 
pal officers,  by  some  mischance  ran  foul  of 
her  colleague,  the  Detroit.  By  this  acci- 
dent, the  greater  part  of  their  guns  were 
rendered  useless,  and  the  two  ships  were 
now  in  turn  compelled  to  sustain  an  inces- 
sant fire  from  the  Niagara  and  the  other 
vessels  of  the  American  squadron.  The 
flag  of  Captain  Barclay  soon  struck ;  and 
the  Queen  Charlotte,  the  Lady  Prevost, 
the  Hunter,  and  the  Chippewa,  surren- 
dered in  immediate  succession.  The 
Little  Belt  attempted  to  escape,  but  was 
pursued  b^'  two  gun-boats,  and  captured. 
Thus,  after  a  contest  of  three  hours,  was  a 
naval  victory  achieved  by  the  Americans, 
in  Avhich  every  vessel  of  the  enemy  was 
captured.  If  anything  could  enhance  its 
brillianc}^  it  was  the  modest  and  laconic 
manner  in  which,  Csesar-like,  it  was 
announced  by  the  gallant  victor — 
"we  have  met  the  enemy,  and  they 

ARE    OURS ! " 

The  carnage  in  this  action  was  very 
great  in  proportion  to  the  numbers  en- 
gaged. The  Americans  had  twenty-seven 
killed,  and  ninety-six  wounded.  The  loss 
of  the  British  was  about  two  hundred  in 
killed  and  wounded,  many  of  these  being 
officers  ;  and  the  prisoners,  amounting  to 
six  hundred,  exceeded  the  whole  number 
of  Americans.  Commodore  Barclay,  a 
gallant  sailor,  one  of  whose  arms  had  been 
shot  off  at  the  battle  of  Trafalgar,  under 
Lord  Nelson,  was  severely  wounded  in  the 
hip,  and  lost  the  use  of  his  remaining  arm. 
Perry  was  but  twenty-seven  years  old,  and 
had  scarcely  recovered  from  an  attack  of 
the    lake-fever,    when   he  thus    '  met   the 


2lU 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


enemy/ — a  circumstance  that  heightens 
the  estimate  to  be  put  upon  his  indomita- 
ble perseverance  and  bravery  on  this  occa- 
sion. To  his  adroit  transfer  of  his  com- 
mand to  the  Niagara,  passing  through  the 
thickest  of  the  battle  in  an  open  boat,  may 
fairly  be  attributed  his  brilliant  fortune 
■on  that  eventful  day.  His  success  raised 
Tiim  to  the  very  pinnacle  of  professional 
renown,  and  the  naval  supremacy  of  the 
United  States  upon  the  lakes  was  tri- 
umphantly secured. 

This  important  and  decisive  battle  was 
fought  midway  of  the  lake,  between  the 
two  hostile  armies,  who  lay  on  the  oppo- 
site shores,  waiting  in  anxious  expectation 
of  its  result, — the  allied  British  and  Indian 
forces,  to  the  amount  of  nearly  five  thou- 
sand, under  Proctor  and  Tecumseh,  being 
ready,  in  case  of  a  successful  issue,  to 
renew  their  ravages  on  the  American 
borders.  The  fruits  of  this  victory,  there- 
fore, were  such  as  to  cause  unbounded 
demonstrations  of  joy  in  the  United  States. 
All  party-feelings  were  for  the  time  for- 
gotten ;  and  the  glorious  occurrence  was 
celebrated  by  illuminations  and  festivities, 
from  one  end  of  the  continent  to  the  other. 
During  this  same  year,  our  gallant  navy 
was  victorious  in  the  capture  of  the  sloop- 
of-war  Peacock,  by  Captain  James  Law- 
rence ;  and  in  the  capture  of  the  brig 
Boxer,  by  the  Enterprise,  commanded  by 
Lieutenant  Barrows.  The  British,  how- 
ever, on  the  first  of  June,  rejoiced  in  the 
capture  of  the  Chesapeake  by  the  frigate 
Shannon,  off  Boston  harbor,  and,  on  the 
fourteenth  of  August,  in  the  capture  of  the 
Argus,  Captain  Allen,  by  the  Pelican. 
The  British  were  also  victorious  on  land, 
at  the  battles  of  Mackinaw,  Queenstown, 
Erenchtown,  and  some  other  points  ;  but 
lost  the  battles  of  York,  Eort  Meigs,  and 
tlie  Thames.  The  proposed  invasion  of 
Canada,  under  the  direction  of  Generals 
Dearborn,  Wilkinson,  Hampton^  Lewis, 
and  Izard,  proved  a  failure.  Such  a  vic- 
tory, therefore,  as  that  of  Ferry,  was  well 
calculated  to  fill  the  nation  with  joy. 

Tlie  struggle  being  ended,  and  Perry 
acquainting    himself   with    the    condition 


and  wants  of  the  several  vessels  and  their 
crews,  at  last  visited  the  shattered  remains 
of  the  Lawrence,  The  deck  was  slip- 
pery with  blood  and  brains,  and  strewed 
with  the  bodies  of  officers  and  men,  and 
the  ship  resounded  everywhere  with  the 
groans  of  the  wounded.  Those  of  the 
crew  who  were  spared  and  able  to  walk  or 
limp,  approached  the  gallant  captain  with 
tears  in  their  eyes,  and  with  outstretched 
arms  of  welcome ;  but  the  salutation  was 
a  silent  one  on  both  sides, — so  overcome 
with  emotion  Avere  the  hearts  of  these 
brave  men,  that  not  a  word  could  find 
utterance.  The  princijjal  loss  in  the 
whole  action  was  on  board  the  Lawrence, 
so  indomitable  was  Perry's  resolution  not 
to  be  conquered.  In  memor}^  of  this  he- 
roic service  to  his  country,  there  was 
erected  in  1860,  at  Cleveland,  Ohio,  near 
the  scene  of  his  great  battle,  a  marble 
statue  by  Walcutt. 

Two  days  after  the  battle,  two  Indian 
chiefs  who  had  been  selected  for  their 
skill  as  marksmen,  and  stationed  in  the 
tops  of  the  Detroit  for  the  purpose  of  pick- 
ing off  the  American  officers,  were  found 
snugly  stowed  away  in  the  hold  of  that 
ship.  These  savages,  who  had  been  ac- 
customed to  vessels  of  no  greater  magni- 
tude than  what  they  could  sling  upon  their 
backs,  when  the  action  became  warm, 
were  so  panic-struck  at  the  terrors  of  the 
scene  and  at  the  strange  perils  surround- 
ing them,  that,  looking  at  each  other  in 
amazement,  they  vociferated  their  signifi- 
cant '  Quonth ! '  and  precipitately  de- 
scended to  the  hold.  In  their  British 
uniforms,  hanging  in  bags  upon  their  fam- 
ished bodies,  they  were  now  brought  be- 
fore Commodore  Perry,  fed,  and  discharged, 
— no  further  parole  being  necessary  to 
prevent  their  ever  engaging  again  in  a 
similar  contest. 

The  slain  of  the  crews  of  both  squadrons 
were  committed  to  the  lake  immediately 
after  the  action  ;  and,  the  next  day,  the 
funeral  obsequies  of  the  American  and 
British  officers  who  had  fallen,  were  per- 
formed at  an  opening  on  the  margin  of 
the  bay,  in  an  appropriate  and  affecting 


GREAT  AND  MEMOllABLE  EVENTS. 


241 


manner.  The  crews  of  botli  fleets  united 
in  the  cerenlon3^  The  autumnal  stilhiess 
of  the  weatlier — the  procession  of  boats — 
the  music — tlie  slow  and  regular  motion 
of  the  oars,  striking  in  exact  time  with  the 
notes  of  the  solemn  dirge — the  mournful 
waving  of  the  flags — the  sound  of  the 
minute-guns  from  all  the  ships — the  wild 
and  solitary  aspect  of  the  place  ; — all  these 
gave  to  this  funeral  ceremonial  a  most 
impressive  influence,  in  striking  contrast 
with  tlie  terrible  conflict  of  the  preceding 
day.  Two  American  and  three  British 
ofticers  were  inten-ed  side  by  side  of  each 
other,  in  this  lonely  place  of  sepulture,  on 
the  margin  of  the  lake,  a  few  paces  from 
the  beach. 

In  his  official  dispatch.  Perry  speaks  in 
the  highest  terms  of  the  co-o[)eration, 
bravery  and  judgment,  of  his  associate, 
Captain  Elliott.  Nevertheless,  there  is 
universal  agreement  with  the  assertion 
made  by  Mackenzie,  the  appreciating  biog- 
rapher of  this  heroic  commander,  that  the 
battle  of  Erie  was  vron  not  merely  by  the 
genius  and  inspiration^  but  eminently  by 
the  exertions,  of  one  man, — a  young  man 
of  tvi^enty-seven,  who  had  never  beheld  a 
naval  engagemeni.  He  had  dashed  boldly 
into  action  with  tho  Lawrence,  trusting 
that  the  rear  of  \\h  line  would  soon  be 
able  to  close  up  to  2i]?.  support.  Sustained, 
however,  only  by  cLo  Caledonia,  the  Ariel, 
rmd  the  Scorpion,  he  resisted  for  two  hours 
or  more  the  whole  of  the  British  squadron. 
Overcome  at  last.  Perry  made  a  new  ar- 
Tangement  of  his  remaining  resources,  and 
'Hatched  from  the  enemy,  with  desperate 


obstinacy,  a  victory  which  that  enemy  had 
already  claimed  with  exulting  cheers  for 
his  own.  This  he  accomplished  by  an 
evolution  unsurpassed  for  genius  and  hard- 
ihood, bearing  down  with  dauntless  assur- 
ance upon  the  whole  of  the  opposing  fleet, 
and  dashing  with  his  fresh  and  uninjured 
vessel  through  the  enemy's  line,  to  their 
dismay  and  complete  discomfiture.     And 


this  victory  on  the  lake  was  so  much  the 
more  important  from  its  enabling  General 
Harrison  to  recover  from  the  British  in- 
vaders the  American  territory  which  they 
had  occupied,  and  to  pursue  them  into 
Canada,  where,  on  the  fifth  of  October, 
they  were  totally  routed  in  the  battle  of 
the  Thames.  Nearly  all  the  British  force 
was  either  captured  or  slain,  and  their 
famous  Indian  ally,  Tecumseh,  here  ended 
his  life. 


16 


XXY. 

CONQUEST    AND    BURNING  OF   WASHINGTON,    BY    THE 

BRITISH.— 1814. 


Precipitate  Flight  of  the  President  of  tlie  United  States,  and  His  Cabinet — The  Capitals  of  Europe 
Protected  from  Fire  and  Devastation  by  Tlieir  Conquerors. — Contrast  of  Britisii  Warfare  in  America. 
— The  Capitol,  Presidential  Mansion,  etc  ,  Sacked  and  Fired. — National  Indignation  Aroused  by  These 
Barbarities. — "Veterans  from  Europe's  Battle-Fields  Execute  tliese  Deeds. — Orders  to  "Lay  Waste" 
the  American  Coast — njjerations  at  tiie  Soutii. — Washington  the  Prize  in  View — Inefficiency  of  its 
Defense.— Winder  and  Harney  in  Command — The  Idea  of  an  Attack  Scouted.— Onward  March  of 
the  Invaders — Fearful  Excitement  in  tlie  City— High  Officials  in  Camp — Tlie  Armies  at  Bladens- 
burg. — Winder   Defeated,   Barney   Taken  — Ross's  Progress   Unopposed  — Complete   Master  of  the 

^  ^;55j;^g5.,;^^j-3^-=^-'-=-=-— City. — A  Rush  for  the  Spoils.  —  Britisii  Soldiers  in  the  White 

s§aE^^^°^  "^^     House — They     Eat    the    President's    Dinner  —  Cockburn's 

^  Bold    Infamy. — Retreat   of  the   Vandal    Foe. — Their   March 
f!'^i\  _=^-,  Upon  Baltimore — Ross  Shot  Dead  in  the  Fight. 


"  I  will  make  a  cow-paeture  of  these  Yankee  Capitol  grounds."— General  Ross. 


A  CL0Ur>  ox  THE  NATIONAL 
ESCUTCHEON. 


'ARDLY  any  event  connected  Avith  the  second  war  -witl. 
Great  Britain  aroused  so  universal  a  spirit  of  indignation 
on  tlie  part  of  the  people  of  the  United  States — so  united 
a  sentiment  of  hostility  —  against  their  ancient  enemy,  as 
tlie  capture  and  burning  of  Washington  citj',  the  federal 
capital,  August  twentj'-fourth,  1814. 
The  commencement  of  tliis  year  was  distinguished  by  military  and  political  occur-, 
rences  of  transcendent  importance,  sucli  as  the  entry  of  the  allied  armies  into  Paris, 
the  forced  abdication  of  Napoleon,  his  exile  to  Elba,  and  the  establishment  of  general 
peace  on  the  continent.  But  tliese  momentous  transactions,  which  filled  the  European 
world  with  almost  boundless  exultation,  i)roduced  in  America  a  very  ditferent  impres- 
sion. The  fact  of  pacification  having  been,  at  last,  definiteh^  accomplished  throughout 
Europe,  offered  to  the  British  a  large  disposable  force,  both  naval  and  military, — that 
which  had  been  so  successfully  instrumental  in  overthrowing  the  greatest  power  and 
most  masterly  warrior  in  the  world.  With  tliis  force,  England  resolved  on  giving  to 
the  war  in  America  a  character  of  new  and  increased  activity  and  extent ;  and  the 
roj'al  authorities  accordingly  promulgated  it  as  their  determined  purpose  to  lay  waste 
the  whole  American  coast,  from  Maine  to  Georgia. 

In  pursuance  of  this  sanguinary  juogramme  of  operations,  Admiral  Sir  Alexander 
Cockburn  was  intrusted  with  the  British  naval  armament,  and  the  army  Mas  jnit  in 
command  of  M  ijor-Gjneral  Ross,  a  brave  leader  in  the  Peninsula  wars,  under  Welliiig- 
ton,  the  conqueror  of  Napoleon. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


243 


About  the  middle  of  August,  an  English 
squadron  of  bi'twcen  fifty  and  sixty  sail 
arrived  in  the  Cliesa[)eake,  with  troops 
destined  to  strike  the  first  deeisive  blow, 
namely,  an  attack  on  Washington,  the 
metropolis  of  the  United  States.  Of  the 
American  forces,  General  Winder,  as  the 
successor  of  General  Van  Ness,  aided  by 
General  Walter  Brown  and  John  E.  How- 
ard, was  in  command  of  the  army,  and 
Commodore  Barney  of  the  flotilla.  The 
enemy  divided  his  force  into  three  parts. 
One  division  was  sent  up  the  Potomac, 
under  Captain  Gordon,  for  the  purpose  of 
bombarding  Fort  Warburton,  and  opening 
the  way  to  the  city  of  Washington  ;  and 
another,  under  Sir  Peter  Parker,  was 
dispatched  to  threaten  Baltimore. 

The  main  body  ascended  the  Patuxent, 
apparently  with  the  intention  of  destroy- 
ing Commodore  Barney's  flotilla,  which 
had  taken  refuge  at  the  head  of  that  river, 
but  with  the  real  intention,  as  it  was  soon 
discovered,  of  attacking  Washington.  In 
the  prosecution  of  this  plan,  the  expedition 
proceeded  to  Benedict,  the  head  of  frigate 
navigation.  This  place,  on  the  west  bank 
of  the  Patuxent,  was  reached  on  the  nine- 
teenth of  August ;  and,  on  the  next  day, 
the  debarkation  of  the  land  forces  under 
General  Ross,  to  the  number  of  six  thou- 
sand, was  completed.  On  the  twent3'-first, 
pursuing  the  course  of  the  river,  the  troops 
moved  to  Nottingham,  and  on  the  twenty- 
second  arrived  at  Upper  Marlborough ;  a 
flotilla,  consisting  of  launches  and  barges, 
under  Cockburn's  command,  ascending  the 
river  and  keeping  pace  with  them.  The 
day  following,  the  flotilla  of  Commodore 
Barney,  in  obedience  to  orders  to  that 
effect,  was  blown  up  b}'  men  left  for  that 
purj^ose,  the  commodore  having  already 
joined  General  Winder  with  his  seamen 
and  marines. 

At  this  time,  when  the  invading  army 
was  within  twenty  miles  of  the  capital, 
Winder  was  at  the  head  of  only  three 
thousand  men,  one-half  of  whom  were  mili- 
tia entirely  untried.  The  Baltimore  mili- 
tia, those  from  Annapolis,  and  the  Vir- 
ginia   detachment,    had    not   yet  arrived. 


His  camp  was  at  the  Woodyard,  twelve 
miles  from  AVashington.  It  was  still 
doubtful  whether  the  British  intende<l  an 
attack  upon  Fort  Warburton,  which  could 
offer  but  little  resistance  to  their  land 
forces,  although  it  could  be  formidable  to 
their  ships,  or  intended  to  march  directly 
on  Washington.  The  secretary  of  war, 
General  Armsti'ong,  himself  an  old  soldier, 
scouted  the  idea  of  an  attack  on  the  capi- 
tal, saying,  energetically' — 

*•  Have  they  artillery  ?  No.  Have  t  ley 
cavalry  ?  No.  Then  don't  tell  an  old  sol- 
dier that  any  regular  army  will  or  can  come. 
We  are  more  frightened  than  hurt,  or 
likely  to  be.  What  do  they  want,  what 
can  they  get,  in  this  slierp-walh?  (as  he 
ironicall}'  termed  the  'city  of  magnificent 
distances.')  If  they  want  to  do  anything, 
the}'  must  go  to  Baltimore,  not  come  to 
this  barren  wilderness!" 

But  the  secretary's  military  judgment 
was  found  to  be  at  fault,  as  events  soon 
showed.  Alarmed  at  the  threatening 
aspect  of  affairs.  President  INIadison  con- 
vened a  special  cabinet-council,  to  devise 
measures  for  meeting  the  extraordinary 
emergency.  The  District  of  Columbia, 
with  parts  of  the  adjacent  states,  was  con- 
stituted a  distinct  military  department, 
and  a  pi'oclamation  was  issued  for  the 
assembling  of  congress  at  a  speedy  da}'. 
But,  in  anticijiation  of  such  movements  as 
these,  the  British  army  again  set  out,  on 
the  afternoon  of  the  twenty-second,  and, 
after  skirmishing  with  the  Americans, 
halted  for  the  night.  General  Winder 
now  retreated  to  a  place  called  the  Old 
Fields,  which  covered  Bladensburg,  the 
bridces  on  the  east  branch  of  the  Potomac, 
and  Fort  Warburton.  Colonel  Monroe, 
the  secretary  of  state,  and  subsequently 
president  of  the  United  States,  had  been 
with  the  commanding  general  for  several 
da^'S,  assisting  him  with  his  counsel,  and 
actively  engaged  in  reconnoitering  the 
enemy.  Late  in  the  evening  of  the 
twenty-second.  President  Madison,  the 
secretaries  of  war  and  navy,  and  the  attor- 
ney-general, joined  General  Winder;  here 
they  slept  that  night,  and  remained  on  the 


244 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ground  until  the  evening  of  the  twenty- 
third,  when,  in  view  of  the  possibility  of 
an  immediate  attack,  it  was  concluded  to 
abandon  that  position,  and  retire  to  the 
eastern  branch  bridge. 

On  the  morning  of  the  twenty-third. 
General  Winder's  army  had  been  duly 
mustered  and  reviewed  by  the  president. 
It  then  consisted  of  four  hundred  horse, 
under  the  command  of  Colonel  Tilghman  ; 
four  hundred  regular  troops,  under  Colonel 
Scott;  six  hundred  marines  and  flotilla 
men,  under  Commodore  Barney  ;  and  Cap- 
tain Miller,  with  five  pieces  of  heavy 
ordnance,  and  eighteen  hundred  militia ; 
— forming  an  aggregate  of  three  thousand 
two  hundred  men,  with  seventeen  pieces 
of  artillery.  The  general  staff  consisted 
of  the  president  of  the  United  States,  as 
commander-in-chief,  the  secretaries  of 
state,  war,  and  navy,  the  attorney-general, 


and  General  Winder.  At  Bladensburg, 
General  Stansljury  had  arrived  from  Bal- 
timore, with  his  brigade  of  drafted  militia; 
also,  the  fifth  regiment,  consisting  of  the 
elite  of  the  Baltimore  city  brigade,  under 
Colonel  Sterrett,  a  battalion  of  riflemen 
under  Major  Pinckney,  and  Myers's  and 
Magruder's  companies  of  artillery,  with 
six  field-pieces. 

Tlie  invading  army  at  Upper  Marlbor- 
ough, on  the  twenty-third,  did  not  exceed 
four  thousand  five  hundred  effective  men, 
without  cavalry,  wagons,  or  means  of 
transportation,  and  with  but  three  pieces 
of  light  artillery,  drawn  by  men.  The 
fome     romninod    at    Upper    Marlborough 


until  the  afternoon  of  the  twenty-third, 
Avhen  they  commenced  their  march  towards 
Washington,  by  the  way  of  Bladens- 
burg. Colonel  Scott  and  Major  Peter, 
with  light  detachments,  were  sent  out  to 
meet  and  harass  the  enemy,  and  General 
Stansbury  was  ordered  to  proceed  with  the 
troops  under  his  command,  on  the  route 
direct  to  Upper  Marlborough.  Colonel 
Scott,  with  his  detachment,  met  the  Brit- 
ish about  six  miles  in  advance  of  the  main 
body,  and,  after  some  skirmishing, 
retreated.  The  American  army  at  Old 
Fields,  were  placed  in  a  favorable  attitude 
of  defense;  they  remained  in  their  position 
until  evening,  when,  apprehending  the 
approach  of  the  enemy,  they  were  ordered 
to  march  to  Washington.  The  British 
encamped  that  evening  three  miles  in 
front  of  the  position  which  the  American 
troops  had  left.  The  retreat  of  the  latter 
towards  the  city  was  precipitate  and  dis- 
orderl}^,  the  enemy  being  supposed  to  be 
in  close  pursuit. 

General  Winder,  on  the  morning  of  the 
twenty-fourth,  had  established  his  head- 
quarters, with  the  main  body,  at  the  east- 
ern branch  bridge.  His  force  here  amounted 
to  three  thousand  five  hundred  men  ;  Gen- 
eral Stansbury  was  four  miles  in  front  at 
Bladensburg,  with  twenty-five  hundred ; 
Colonel  Minor,  with  seven  hundred  in 
the  city  of  Washington, — endeavoring  to 
get  across  to  the  arsenal ;  and  General 
Young's  brigade  of  five  hundred,  twelve 
miles  below,  on  the  left  bank  of  the 
Potomac. 

Various  reports  were  brought  to  head- 
quarters, of  the  movements  and  intentions 
of  the  British.  The  president  and  heads 
of  departments  assembled  at  General 
Winder's  in  the  morning.  The  secretary 
of  state,  upon  hearing  a  rumor  that  the 
British  were  mai-ching  upon  the  capital  by 
the  way  of  Bladensburg,  proceeded  to  join 
General  Stansbury,  to  aid  him  in  forming 
a  line  of  battle.  That  commander,  on  the 
approach  of  the  enemy,  retired  from  liis 
position  in  advance  of  Bladensburg,  and 
occupied  the  gi'ound  west  of  the  village,  on 
the     ricrht   bank   of   the    eastern    branch. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


245 


Here  it  was  at  last  resolved  to  meet  the 
enemj',  ami  Jiijht  the  battle  that  was  to 
decide  the  fate  of  the  metropolis. 

The  best  arrangements  that  time  would 
permit  were  made.  About  live  hundred 
yards  from  the  bridge,  the  artillery  from 
Baltimore,  consisting  of  six  six-jiounders, 
under  the  command  of  Captains  Myers  and 
!Magruder,  were  posted  behind  a  kind  of 
breastwork;  and  Major  Pinekney's  rifle- 
men were  placed  in  ambush  to  the  right  and 
left,  so  as  to  annoy  the  enemy  when 
attempting  to  cross  the  stream,  and  at  the 
same  time,  in  conjunction  with  Captain 
Doughtv's  company,  to  support  the  artil- 
lery. The  fifth  Baltimore  regiment  was 
drawn  up  about  fifty  3'ards  in  the  rear, 
but  afterwards  removed  much  further. 
The  other  parts  of  the  brigade  were  also 
so  disposed  as  to  support  the  artillery,  and 
annoy  the  enemy  in  his  approach.  Shortly 
after  this  disposition  was  made,  Lieuten- 
ant-Colonel Beall  arrived  with  about  five 
hundred  men  from  Annapolis,  and  was 
posted  higher  up  in  a  wood  on  the  right  of 
the  road.  General  Winder  having,  by 
this  time,  brought  up  his  main  body,  had 
formed  it  in  the  rear  of  Stansbury's  brig- 
ade, and  in  a  line  with  Beall's  detachment, 
and  the  heavy  artillery  under  Commodore 
Barney  posted  to  the  right  on  an  eminence 
near  the  road.  This  line  had  scarcely 
been  formed,  when  the  engagement  com- 
menced. This  was  about  twelv^e  o'clock,  the 
movement  being  as  follows: 

On  the  hill  which  overhangs  the  stream, 
a  column  of  the  British  made  its  appear- 
ance, and  moved  down  towards  the  bridge, 
throwing  rockets,  and  apparently  deter- 
mined to  force  the  passage.  He  now  made 
an  attempt  to  throw  a  strong  body  of 
infantry  across  the  stream,  but  a  few  well- 
directed  shot  from  the  artillery  compelled 
him  to  shelter  himself  behind  some  houses. 
After  a  considerable  pause,  a  large  column 
of  the  British  rapidly  advanced  in  the  face 
of  the  battery,  which,  although  managed 
by  skillful  and  courageous  officers,  was  un- 
able to  repress  them  ;  and  they  c  )ntinued 
to  push  forward,  until  they  formed  a  con- 
siderable body  on  the  Washington  road- 


These  troops  had  not  advanced  far, 
when  the  company  under  Captain  Dough t}^, 
having  discharged  their  i)le(es,  fled,  in 
spite  of  the  efforts  of  their  commander  and 
of  Major  I'inckney  to  rally  them.  Had 
they  known  their  power,  liowever,  they 
would  have  stood  their  ground;  for  it  is 
stated,  on  the  best  historical  authority, 
that  when  General  Ross,  leading  on  his 
troops,  recoiHJoitered  the  militia  stationed 
on  the  rising  ground,  he  was  alarmed  at 
their  formidable  appearance.  But  he  had 
gone  too  far  to  retreat ;  the  order  was 
given  to  move  forward.  His  alarm  was  of 
short  continuance.  A  few  congreve  rock- 
ets put  the  Maryland  militia  to  flight ;  the 
riflemen  followed;  the  artillery,  after  firing 
not  more  than  twice,  rapidly  retreated  ; 
then  the  Baltimore  regiment,  on  which 
some  hopes  were  placed,  fled  also. 

The  British  now  moved  on  slowly,  until 
they  were  checked  by  the  marines  under 
Barney.  Finding  it  impossible  to  force 
the  position  of  the  marines  and  sailors  in 
front,  detachments  filed  by  the  right  and 
k'ft  and  passed  up  ravines.  At  the  head 
of  one  was  stationed  the  Annapolis  regi- 
ment, which,  as  has  already  been  men- 
tioned, fled  at  the  first  fire.  At  the  head 
of  the  other  ravine  were  placed  some  reg- 
ulars and  militia ;  they  also  showed  their 
instinct  of  self-preservation,  by  getting 
out  of  harm's  way  as  soon  as  possible. 
The  sailors  and  marines,  thus  deserted, 
and  in  danger  of  being  surrounded,  retired, 
their  guns  and  wounded  companions 
falling  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 
Owing  to  the  vigorous  fire  of  the  marines, 
the  r>ritish  lost  a  large  number  of  men, — 
nearly  a  thousand,  in  killed,  wounded,  and 
missing;  the  loss  of  the  Americans  was  a 
little  rising  of  two  hundred.  At  the  time 
Commodore  Barney  ordered  a  retreat,  the 
British  were  in  his  rear,  and  he  war  made 
prisoner.  As  he  lay  wounded  by  the  side 
of  the  fence,  he  beckoned  to  a  British 
soldier,  and  directed  him  to  call  an  offi- 
cer. General  Ross  himself  immediately 
rode  uj),  and,  on  being  informed  of  Bar- 
ney's rank  and  situation,  caused  him  to  be 
treated  with  that  gallantry  which  his  char- 


246 


OUR  FIRST  CEXTURY.— 1776-1876. 


acter  merited,  ordered  liis  wounds  to  be 
dressed,  and  paroled  him.  Barney  offered 
his  watch,  as  a  gift  to  tlie  soldier  who  had 
so  obligingly-  served  him,  but  the  English- 
man replied — 

'■'■  I  can  help  a  brave  man  ivithout  jyajj." 
]\[uch  has  been  said,  by  critics  and  his- 
torians, concerning  the  course  pursued  by 
the  chief  magistrate  of  the  nation,  during 


PRESIDENT  MADISON. 

these  occurrences  around  and  within  the 
metropolis.  Before  the  American  troops 
broke  (says  IngersoiJ),  while  showers  of 
rockets  were  flying  where  the  president 
stood,  he  was  requested  by  General 
Winder  to  retire  out  of  their  reach,  and 
M'ith  his  cabinet  he  withdrew  by  inglori- 
ous but  not  ignominious  retreat;  although 
everything  demonstrated  that  a  field  of 
battle  was  not  Madison's  theater  of  action. 
Wilkinson's  account  imputes  to  General 
Armstrong,  secretary  of  war,  the  assertion 
that  the  'little  man' — meaning  Mr.  Mad- 
ison— said  to  the  veteran  whom  he  would 
not  allow  to  fight,  '-Come,  General  Arm- 
strong, come.  Colonel  Monroe,  let  us  go, 
and  leave  it  to  the  commanding  general ;" 
words  which  may  well  have  been  used, 
without  involving  any  imputation  of  cow- 
ardice against  the  utterer.  It  is  extremely 
uncommon  for  conspicuous  men,  sur- 
rounded as  the  president  was,  to  betray 
apprehension,  even  if  they  feel  it.  Arm- 
strong, when  the  troops  fled,  gave  vent  to 
his  mortification  in  strong  terms,  addressed 
to  the  president,  of  disgust  at  so  base  and 
cowardly  a  flight,  and  no  doubt  the  presi- 


dent, amazed  and  confounded  by  the  trep- 
idation of  the  troops,  retired,  as  Colonel 
Monroe  his  secretary  of  state  did,  dis- 
heartened ;  General  Armstrong  indignant; 
and  Mr.  Rush,  the  3-oungest  and  only 
hoping  one  of  the  administration,  ashamed  ; 
soon  followed  by  General  Winder,  demor- 
alized by  the  whole  of  the  front  line  van- 
ishing in  wild  disorder  from  the  conflict. 
During  the  da}',  Mr.  Madison  frequently 
dispatched  notes,  penciled  on  horseback, 
to  his  Avife,  to  keep  her  informed  of  its 
vicissitudes.  More  than  Winder  feared 
and  Armstrong  jjredicted  of  inexperienced 
troops  Avas  realized  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye.  The  victory  Avas  won,  fully  and  com- 
pletely, by  the  British  ;  and  it  required 
only  to  realize  in  fact,  Avhat  Avas  noAV  being 
carried  ovit  in  spirit,  the  threat  of  the 
commanding  inA^ader,  "  /  will  make  a  coiv- 
pasture  of  these  Yankee  capital  grounds  ! '' 
Among  those  Avho  exhibited  conspicuous 
bravery,  as  participants  in  these  scenes, 
Avere  Hugh  McCulloch  and  John  P.  Ken- 
ned}',  so  prominent  in  national  affairs  in 
after  years. 

^y  the  issue  of  this  battle,  General  Ross 
obtained  possession  of  the  bridge  OA'er  the 
eastern  branch  of  the  Potomac.  After 
halting  his  army  for  a  short  time  for 
refreshment,  he,  with  Admiral  Cockburn, 
rode  slowly  into  the  Avilderness  city,  almost 
ever}'  male  inhabitant  of  Avhieh  Avas  then 
absent,  either  in  arms,  or  in  distant  hiding- 
places, — some  kee[)ing  close  in  their  dwell- 
ings. Many  passed  the  night  in  huts  and 
cornfields  around  the  town.  The  first 
considerable  dwelling  the  enemy  Avas  to 
pass  had  been  j\Ir.  Gallatin's  residence, 
the  house  of  INIr.  Sewall,  some  hundred 
yards  east  of  the  capitol.  Prom  behind 
the  side  Avail  of  that  house,  as  is  supjiosed, 
at  all  events  from  or  near  to  it,  a  solitary' 
musket,  fired  by  some  excited  and  perhaps 
intoxicated  person,  believed  to  be  a  well- 
known  Irish  bai'ber,  aimed  at  General 
Ross,  killed  the  bay  mare  he  rode.  In 
Ross's  official  report,  no  mention  is  made 
of  this  affair;  but  his  naval  companion. 
Admiral  Cockburn,  not  only  introduces  it 
in  his  account,  but  exaggerates  and  falsi- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


247 


fies  the  incident  into  wliat  he  diaracter- 
izes  as  "many  similar  acts  of  universal 
wanton  enormity;"  absurdly  calling  it  a 
lieavy  fire  from  the  capitol,  wliich  was 
more  than  twice  gun-shot  distant !  The 
house  from  which  this  shot  came  was  at 
once  burned  by  the  soldiery,  and  all  its 
inmates  slain.  Other  houses  also  shared 
the  same  fate,  one  of  these  being  General 
AVashington's  house,  the  unprovoked  de- 
struction of  which  General  Ross  much 
regretted,  on  being  informed  of  its  owner- 
ship. 

Having  arrived  on  capitol  hill,  General 
Ross  offered  terms  of  capitulation,  which 
were,  that  the  city  might  be  ransomed 
for  a  sum  of  money  nearly  equal  to  the 
value  of  the  public  and  private  property 
it  contained,  and  that,  on  receiving  it,  the 
troops  should  retire  to  their  ships  unmo- 
lested. But  there  being,  at  the  time, 
neither  civil  nor  military  authorities  at 
Washington,  by  whom  the  jiropositions 
could  be  received,  the  work  of  vandalism 
commenced, — Cockburn  being  the  soul  of 
these  outrages.  It  became,  at  last,  a  per- 
fect Cossack  rush  for  spoils. 


To  the  third  brigade,  that  which  was 
least  fatigued  by  fighting,  was  assigned 
the  task  of  destroying.  According  to  the 
English  narrator,  who  was  also  the  perpe- 
trator of  these  proceedings,  it  was  a  'sub- 
lime '  scene.  The  sun  set,  says  this  jocund 
barbarian,  before  the  different  regiments 
were  in  a  condition  to  move  in  tlie  dark. 
Before  they  quitted  their  ground,  the 
work  of  destruction  had  begun  in  the  cit3\ 
The  blazing  of  houses,  ships  and  stores, 
the  reports  of  exploding  magazines,  and 
the  crash  of  falling  roofs,  informed  them, 
as  they  proceeded,  of  what  was  going  for- 
ward. Nothing  (saj'S  a  British  writer) 
can  be  conceived  finer  than  the  sight 
which  met  them  as  they  drew  near  the 
town  :  The  sky  was  brilliantly  illuminated 
by  the  different  conflagrations ;  and  a 
dark,  red  light  was  thrown  upon  the  road, 
sufficient  to  permit  each  man  to  view  dis- 
tinctly his  comrade's  face.  The  scene  was 
striking  and  sublime,  as  the  burning  of 
St.  Sebastian's.  The  first  and  second 
brigades  advanced  into  the  plain,  halted, 
and  in  close  column  bivouacked  for  the 
night.     Towards  morning,  a  violent  storm 


CAPTUKE  AND  BlIBMNG  OF  WASHINGTON  BY  THE   BRITISH,  IN  1814. 


248 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


of  rain,  accompanied  with  thunder  and 
lightning,  came  on, — whose  flashes  seemed 
to  vie  in  brilliancy  with  the  flames  which 
burst  from  tlie  roofs  of  lurning  houses, 
while  the  thunder  drowned  the  noise  of 
crumbling  walls,  and  was  only  interrupted 
b}'  the  occasional  roar  of  cannon,  and  of 
large  depots  of  gun-powder,  as  they  ex- 
ploded one  by  one. 

The  description  thus  coldly  penned  by 
one  of  the  actors  in  this  barbarous  drama, 
onl}'  falls  short  of  the  terrible  truth.  In 
the  American  metropolis,  then  in  the  fif- 
teenth year,  only,  of  its  existence,  the 
British  found  about  nine  hundred  houses, 
scattered  in  groups  over  a  surface  of  three 
miles;  and  two  splendid  buildings,  namely, 
the  capitol,  as  yet  unfinished,  and  the 
president's  house,  these  being  among  the 
finest  specimens  of  architecture  in  the 
new  world.  But,  heautiful  though  they 
tvere,  the  torch  of  the  incendiary  soon  laid 
them  in  ruins.  The  great  bridge  across 
the  Potomac  was  also  wantonly  burnt. 
The  blaze  produced  by  these  wholesale 
acts  of  destruction  was  seen  even  in  Balti- 
more, forty  miles  distant.  All  that  was 
combustible  about  the  capitol  and  the  pres- 
idential mansion,  including  therein  all  the 
furniture  and  articles  of  taste  or  value,  and 
the  valuable  libraries  of  the  senate  and 
liouse  of  representatives,  was  reduced  to 
ashes ;  and  the  Avails  of  these  stately 
buildings,  blackened  with  smoke  and  in 
melancholy  demolition,  remained,  for  a 
time,  the  monuments  of  British  barbarity. 
Gales  and  Seaton's  valuable  printing 
establishment  was  also  destroyed.  All 
the  public  buildings,  with  the  exception  of 
the  patent-office,  shared  the  same  fate  at 
the  hands  of  the  enemy,  who  also  took 
particular  pains  to  mutilate  the  beautiful 
monument  erected  in  honor  of  the  naval 
heroes  who  fell  at  Tripoli. 

It  is  related,  that  when  the  detachment 
sent  out  to  destroy  the  president's  house 
entered  his  dining-parlor,  they  found  a 
dinner-table  spread,  and  covers  laid  for 
forty  guests.  Several  kinds  of  wine,  in 
liandsome  cut-glass  decanters,  were  cooling 
on    the    side-board;    dishes    and    plates, 


knives,  forks,  and  spoons,  were  arranged 
for  immediate  use.  In  short,  everything 
was  ready  for  the  entertainment  of  a  cere- 
monious party.  Such  were  the  arrange- 
ments in  the  dining  room,  while  in  the 
kitchen  were  others  answerable  to  them  in 
every  respect.  Spits,  loaded  with  savory 
joints,  turned  before  the  fire;  pots,  sauce- 
pans, and  other  culinary  utensils,  stood 
nearby;  and  all  the  other  requisites  for 
an  elegant  and  substantial  repast  were 
exactly  in  a  state  which  indicated  that 
they  had  lately  and  precipitatelj'  been 
abandoned.  These  preparations  were  be- 
held b}'  apax-ty  of  hungry  British  soldiers, 
with  no  indifferent  eye.  An  elegant  din- 
ner, even  though  considerabl  v  over-dressed, 
was  a  luxury  to  which  few  of  them,  at  least 
for  some  time  back,  had  been  accustomed, 
and  which,  after  the  dangers  and  fatigues 
of  the  day,  appeared  peculiarly  inviting. 
They  sat  down  to  it,  therefore,  not  indeed 
in  the  most  orderly  manner,  but  with 
countenances  which  would  scarcely  have 
belied  a  party  of  aldermen  at  a  civic  feast ; 
and,  having  satisfied  their  appetites  with 
fewer  complaints  than  would  have  jiroba- 
bly  escaped  their  rival  gourmands  afore- 
said, and  partaken  pretty  freely  of  the 
presidential  wines,  the}'  finished  with  the 
incendiary's  torch,  and  with  such  a  carni- 
val of  violence  and  plunder  as  would  dis- 
grace even  the  Thugs  of  India. 

Mrs.  Madison  states  that  General  Ross 
sent  a  message,  offering  her  an  escort  to 
whatever  place  of  safet}'  she  might  choose. 
"  I  make  no  war,"  Ross  pretentiously' 
remarked,  "  on  letters  or  ladies,  and  I  have 
heard  so  much  in  jjraise  of  Mrs.  Madison, 
that  I  would  rather  protect  than  burn  a 
house  which  sheltered  so  excellent  a  lady." 
She,  however,  had  seasonably  absented 
herself,  taking  with  her  such  valuables,  in 
the  shape  of  plate,  portraits,  and  ward- 
robe, as  she  could  hastily  collect  and  have 
placed  in  a  wagon.  One  of  the  articles 
which  Mrs.  Madison  insisted  on  saving, 
before  leaving,  was  a  large  picture  of  Gen- 
eral Washington  by  Stuart;  it  was.  how- 
ever, screwed  to  the  wall,  and  the  frame 
had  therefore  to  be  broken  and  the  canvas 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


249 


detaclied  therefrom,  Mrs.  Madison  stand- 
ing near  by,  witli  a  carving  knife  in  lier 
liand,  ready  with  her  assistance.  Slie 
succeeded,  with  the  aid  of  Mr.  Jacob 
Barker,  in  her  pur[)Ose,  and  escaped  to  a 
tavern  some  sixteen  miles  from  tlie  cit}'^, 
i\Ir.  INIadison  joining  her,  secretly,  in  the 
evening.  Ross  remained  in  his  camp 
during  the  night.  Cockburn,  it  is  said, 
passed  the  same  time,  in  beastly  degra- 
dation, at  a  brothel. 

The  British  having  accomplished  the 
object  of  their  visit,  passed  through  Bla- 
densburg,  on  the  route  to  Benedict.  They 
left  their  dead  unburied ;  such  of  their 
"wounded  as  could  ride,  were  placed  on 
horseback,  others  in  carts  and  wagons, 
and  a  considerable  number  were  left 
behind.  The  wounded  British  i)risoners 
were  intrusted  to  the  humanity  of  Com- 
modore Barney,  who  provided  everything 
for  their  comfort;  and  such  as  recovered 
■were  exchanged,  and  returned  to  the  Brit- 
ish. The  retreat  of  the  invaders,  though 
unmolested,  was  precipitate,  and  conducted 
under  evident  apprehension  of  an  attack. 
They  took  Alexandria  on  the  thirtieth  of 
August.  On  the  twelfth  of  September 
they  marched  upon  Baltimore,  but  Avere 
repulsed,  General  Ross  losing  his  life  In 
the  jjrelinimari/  engagement.  It  v/as  amid 
the  excitement  of  this  movement  on  the 
part  of  the  foe,  especially  their  bombard- 
ment of  Fort  McHenry,  th.at  Francis  Key, 
Avho  was  on  the  spot  at  the  time,  composed 
that  popular  song,  "The  Star  Spangled 
Banner." 


On  account  of  "Washington  being  the 
seat  of  government  of  the  American  repub- 
lic, its  capture  occasioned  great  eclat  on 
the  part  of  the  British,  and  much  chagrin 
and  indignation  throughout  the  United 
States — indeed,  the  whole  civilized  world 
exclaimed  against  the  act,  as  a  violation  of 
the  rules  of  modern  warfare.  The  cajiitals 
of  most  of  the  European  kingdoms  had 
lately  been  in  the  power  of  an  enemy  ;  but 
in  no  instance  had  the  conqueror  been 
guilty  of  similar  conduct.  In  this  case, 
too,  the  outrages  were  committed  while  a 
treat}'  of  peace  was  actually  pending  !  Tiie 
success  of  the  Americans  in  the  battles  of 
Chippewa  and  Bridgewater,  had,  doubtless, 
greatly  exasperated  the  haughty  Britons, 
and  led  them  to  this  act. 

So  overwhelming  Avas  the  effect  upon 
the  i)eople  of  the  United  States,  of  the 
wanton  burning  and  plunder  of  their  cap- 
ital, that  party  spirit  instantly  vanished, 
and  with  it  the  dissensions  which  had 
almost  paralyzed  the  government.  A 
nation  of  freemen  was  seen  to  rise  in  its 
strength.  Multitudes  who  had  at  first 
opposed  the  war  on  the  ground  of  its  impol- 
icy, or  who  had  condemned  the  invasion  of 
Canada,  now  viewed  Great  Britain  only  as 
a  jiowerful  nation,  precipitating  her  armies 
on  the  country,  with  the  simple  intention 
of  sating  her  vengeance  by  desolating  its 
fairest  portions.  The  whole  countr}"  was  in 
motion  ;  every  town  was  a  camp ;  all  consid- 
erations were  merged  into  one,  paramount 
above  all  others,  namely,  the  defense  of 
the  countr}'  against  a  barbarous  foe. 


XXVI. 

McDONOUGII'S    NAVAL   VICTORY   ON   LAKE    CHAM- 
PLAIN.— 1814. 


Tlie  Projecteil  British  Inviision  of  the  Northern  States,  by  Land  and  Water,  Frustrated  by  an  Over- 
whelming LJhiw  on  Tlieir  Favorite  Eienieiit  — Most  Unexpected  and  Mortifying  Result  to  the  Enemy's 
I'ride — Not  One  of  the  Seventeen  British  Ensigns  Visible  Two  Hours  Alter  the  Opening  of  tlie 
Action  by  Downie — McDonough's  Laconic  Message. — Britisli  Advance  on  New  Yorlc. — Grand 
Scheme  of  Conquest. — Picked  Men  Employed  — Great  Land  and  Naval  Force  — Their  Fleet  on  Lake 
Champlain. — Downie,  a  Brave  Officer,  Commands. — Flushed  Confidence  of  Victory — Pleasure  Par- 
ties to  "See  the  Fight" — Pluck  of  Commodore  McDonougli — His  Prayer  on  the  Eve  of  Battle  — 
Strange  and  Beautiful  Omen — Its  Lispiriting  Effect  on  the  Men. — McDonough  Sights  the  First  Gun. 
— The  Flagships  in  Close  Gra[)ple. — Tlieir  Aspect  like  a  Sheet  of  Fire. — Tremendous  Cannonade  — 
The  Two  Fleets  in  Full  Action. — Desperate  Situation  of  Both. — McDonough's  Extraordinary  Besort. 
— Downie  Completely  Circumvented. — At  the  Mercy  of  the  Americans. — No  English  Flag  on  the 
Lakes. 


"The  A1mi:;hty  has  been  pleased  to  grant  us  a  signal  victory  on  Lake  Champlain."— Commodoeb  McDonouoh  to  the  Skcbetabt 
OF  TUK  Navit. 


EEATLY  to  the  joy  of  the  Amer- 
'?    icans,  and  deeply  to  tlie  chagrin 
of  their  boastful  enemy,  the  pro- 
^^^B     jected  invasion   of   the   northern 
part  of  the  United  States?,  planned  with  such 
apparent  sagacity  and  with  the  most  prodi- 
gal outlay  of  resources  by  the  British  gov- 
ernment, for  the  fall  campaign  of  1814,  met 
with  the  most  signal  defeat.     This  scheme 
of  conquest,  so  grandly  organized  and  con- 
fidentl_y  counted  upon,  covered  nothing  less 
than  the  subjugation  of  the  state  of  New 
York    and     the     several     states     of    New 
England,  by  a  combined  movement  of  the 
English  land  and  naval  forces.     The  Ameri- 
cans, confiding  in  the  bravery  of  those  with 
~«X    \vhom  they  had  intrusted  the  honor  of  their 
flag  on  the  ocean — Stewart,  Perry,  IVIcDon- 
ough,  Chauncey,  Allen, Warrington,  Henley, 
Woolsey,  lUakeley,  Cassin,   and  others, — did  not  shrink  from  the  threatened  conflict. 
The  important   post   of   Plattsburg,   on    Lake  Chamidain,  being,  for   the  time,  in   a 
comparatively  defenseless    state,  the   British  determined   to    initiate    their  movement 


JACK'S  OFFERING  TO   IIIS  COUNTRY. 


GREAT  AND  ^lEMUKAULE  EVENTS. 


251 


by  an  attack  upon  tliat  place  by  land,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  to  attempt  the  ch'stnic- 
tioii  of  the  American  (U)tilhi  concentrated 
on  tlio  hdve. 

Accordinj;ly,  on  tlio  third  of  September, 
Sir  George  I'rev^ost,  the  governor-general 
of  Canada,  at  the  head  of  some  fourteen 
thousand  men — most  of  them  veterans 
who  liad  served  under  Wellington  in  Ids 
recent  victorious  campaigns  against  Napo- 
leon— entered  the  territories  of  the  United 
States.  On  the  sixth  they  arrived  at 
Plattsburg.  It  is  situated  near  the  lake, 
on  the  northern  bank  of  the  small  river 
Saranac.  On  their  approach,  the  Ameri- 
can troops,  who  were  posted  on  the  oppo- 
site bank,  tore  up  the  jdanks  of  the 
bridges,  with  which  they  formed  slight 
breastworks,  and  prepared  to  dispute  the 
passage  of  the  stream.  The  British 
employed  themselves  for  several  days  in 
erecting  batteries,  while  the  American 
forces  were  daily  augmented  by  the 
arrival  of  volunteers  and  militia.  Early 
in  the  morning  of  the  eleventh,  the  Brit- 
ish squadron,  commanded  by  Commodore 
Downie,  appeared  off  the  harbor  of  Platts- 
burg, where  that  of  the  United  States, 
commanded  by  Commodore  -McDonough, 
lay  at  anchor  prepared  for  battle.  Downie, 
an  officer  of  high  distinction,  coveted  this 
combat  upon  Britain's  favorite  element, 
not  doubting  for  a  moment  that  he  should 
cover  himself  with  glor}^,  by  the  speedy 
capture  or  annihilation  of  the  Yankee  fleet. 
He  little  knew  the  pluck  of  McDonough, 
— a  striking  illustration  of  whose  charac- 
ter may  here  be  related  : 

In  1806,  McDonough  was  lieutenant  of 
a  United  States  vessel,  the  Siren,  then 
cruising  in  the  Mediterranean,  under 
the  command  of  Captain  Smith.  Ojie 
forenoon,  during  the  absence  of  Cajitain 
Smith  on  shore,  a  merchant  brig,  under 
the  colors  of  the  United  States,  came  into 
port,  and  anchored  ahead  and  close  to  the 
Siren.  Soon  after,  a  boat  was  sent  from 
a  British  frigate  then  lying  in  the  harbor, 
and  the  crew  boarded  this  merchantman. 
After  remaining  alongside  a  little  while, 
the  boat  returned;  ivith  one  more  man  than 


she  went  ivith !  This  circumstance 
attracted  the  notice  of  INIcDonough,  who 
sent  Lieutenant  Page  on  board  the  brig, 
to  know  the  particulars  of  the  affair.  Page 
returned  with  information  that  the  man 
had  been  impressed  by  the  boat  that  came 
from  the  British  frigate,  although  he  had 
a  ])rotection  as  an  American  citizen. 
McDonough's  blood  was  up  !  In  a  twiidi- 
ling,    he    ordered    the    Siren's    gig   to   be 


COMMODORE  MCDONOUGH. 

manned,  and  putting  himself  in  her,  went 
in  pc.""'iit  of  the  boat,  determined  to 
rescue  his  countryman.  He  overtook  her 
alongside  the  British  frigate,  just  as  the 
man  at  the  bow  was  raising  his  boat-hook 
to  reach  the  ship,  and  took  out  the  Amer- 
ican by  force, — although  the  British  boat 
had  eight  oars,  and  his  only  four, — and 
carried  him  on  board  the  Sii-en.  When 
the  report  of  this  affair  was  borne  to  the 
captain  of  the  British  frigate,  he  put  off, 
in  a  rage,  for  the  Siren,  determined  to 
know  how  McDonough  had  dared  to  take 
a  man  from  one  of  his  majesty's  boats. 
Politely  greeting  him,  McDonough  reso- 
lutely said — 

"  The  man  is  an  American  seaman,  and 
under  the  protection  of  the  flag  of  the 
United  States,  and  it  is  my  duty  to  protect 
him." 

"  By !  I  don't  care  for  your  Amer- 
ican flag  !  If  you  don't  give  up  the  man, 
I'll  bring  my  frigate  alongside,  and  blow 
you  to  the  devil !  "   replied  the  Britisher. 

"  That  you  may  do ;  but,  as  long  as  my 
vessel  swims,  I  shall  keep  the  man," 
calmly  responded  McDonough. 


252 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


"  You  are  a  very  young  man,  and  will 
repent  of  this  indiscretion.  If  I  had  been 
in  the  boat,  you  would  not  dared  to  have 
taken  the  man,  I'm if  you  would  !  " 

*'  /  would  have  taken  the  man,  or  lost 
my  life,""  said  McDonough. 

"What,  sir!  would  you  attempt  to  stop 
me,  if  I  were  now  to  undertake  to  impress 
men  from  that  brig  ?  "  inquired  the  Brit- 
ish captain,  scornfully. 

"  I  would ;  and,  if  you  wish  to  be  con- 
vinced, you  have  only  to  make  a  com- 
mencement." 

Enraged  at  this,  the  Englishman 
returned  to  his  ship,  and  shortly  after- 
wards was  seen  making  in  the  direction  of 
the  American  merchantman.  McDonough 
thereupon  ordered  his  boat  manned  and 
armed,  and  got  in  her  himself,  all  in  read- 
iness for  pursuit.  The  Englishman,  seeing 
the  turn  things  were  likely  to  take,  and 
deeming  discretion  to  be  the  better  part  of 
valor,  contented  himself  with  taking  a  cir- 
cuit round  the  American  brig,  and  return- 
ing again  to  the  frigate.  Thus  the  affair 
ended. 

It  was  with  this  cool,  intrepid,  and  res- 
olute master  of  himself  and  of  the  situa- 
tion, thatDownie,  flushed  with  expectations 
of  a  speedy  and  easy  victory,  was  soon  to 
deal,  and  by  whom,  as  the  sequel  showed, 
he  was  doomed  to  overwhelming  defeat,  on 
the  waters  of  that  vast  lake  where  his 
squadron  now  floated  in  proud  defiance. 
Indeed,  such  was  the  assurance  of  ability 
in  the  mind  of  Downie,  to  scatter  the 
Americans  to  the  four  winds,  that  a  Brit- 
ish barge,  filled  with  amateur  spectators, 
accompanied  the  other  A'essels,  which 
misled  McDonough  to  suppose  that  there 
were  thirteen  barges  in  force,  when  in 
reality  there  %vere  but  twelve, — the  thir- 
teenth being  filled  with  idlers,  who  came 
not  to  bear  the  brunt  of  battle,  but  to 
enjoy  the  excursion,  and  witness  and  share 
the  expected  victory. 

On  Sunday  morning,  September  11, 
1814,  it  being  the  fifth  day  of  the  siege, 
the  motives  which  induced  the  British 
general  to  delay,  hitherto,  his  final  assaidt 
upon  the  American  works,  became  appar-  ! 


ent.  Reljang  on  his  ability  to  carry  them, 
however  they  might  be  strengthened  and 
fortified,  he  had  awaited  the  arrival  of  the 
British  fleet,  in  the  belief  that,  with  its 
co-operation,  an  easy  conquest  could  be 
made  not  only  of  the  American  army,  but 
also  of  the  American  fleet.  On  this  day, 
therefore,  the  British  fleet,  consisting  of 
the  frigate  Confiance,  carrjnng  thirty-nine 
guns,  twenty-seven  of  which  were  twenty- 
four  jjounders  ;  the  brig  Linnet,  of  sixteen 
guns ;  the  sloops  Chub  and  Finch,  each 
carrying  eleven  guns  ;  and  a  large  number 
of  galleys,  each  carrying  one  or  two  guns; 
was  seen  coming  round  Cumberland,  where 
the  American  fleet  lay  at  anchor. 

The  American  fleet  comj^rised  the  ship 
Saratoga,  carrying  twenty-six  guns,  eight 
of  which  were  long  twenty-four  jDOunders  ; 
the  brig  Eagle,  of  twenty  guns ;  the 
schooner  Ticonderoga,  of  seventeen  guns ; 
the  sloop  Preble,  seven  guns ;  and  ten 
galleys,  six  carrying  two  guns  each,  and 
the  remainder  one  gun  ajjiece. 

Besides  the  advantage  which  the  enemy 
possessed  in  being  able  to  choose  their 
position,  their  force  was  much  superior. 
The  number  of  guns,  all  told,  in  the  Brit- 
ish fleet,  amounted  to  ninetj^-five,  and  of 
men,  to  upwards  of  a  thousand  ;  while  the 
Americans  had  only  eighty-six  guns,  and 
eight  hundred  and  twenty  men.  One  of 
the  American  vessels  had  been  built  with 
almost  incredible  dispatch  ;  eighteen  days 
before,  the  trees  of  which  it  was  con- 
structed were  actually  growing  on  the 
shores  of  the  lake. 

The  American  vessels  were  moored  in 
line,  with  five  gun-boats  or  galleys  on  each 
flank.  At  eight  o'clock,  the  look-out  boat 
announced  the  approach  of  the  British, 
and  at  nine,  immediately'  on  getting  round 
Cumberland  Head,  Downie  anchored  in 
line  abreast  of  the  American  force,  at 
about  three  hundred  yards  distance,  and 
gave  tokens  of  battle.  The  youthful 
McDonough  awaited  all  these  movements 
with  perfect  calmness  and  order.  Indeed, 
true  to  his  manly  character  and  to  his 
trained  habits  of  observing  the  Sabbath 
and    trusting    to    divine    help    in  human 


GREAT  AND  MEMORAl'.LE  EVENTS. 


253 


affairs,  lie  knelt  down  in  the  presence  of 
his  men,  and  solemnly  offered  up  the  fol- 
lowing prayer  of  the  Episcoi)al  servii  e 
appointed  to  be  read  before  a  fight  at  sea 
against  an  eneniv:  '  0  most  powerful  and 
glorious  Lord  God,  the  Lord  of  hosts,  that 
rulest  and  comniandest  all  things;  Thou 
sittest  in  the  throne  judging  right,  and 
therefore  we  make  our  address  to  thy 
Divine  Majesty  in  this  our  necessity,  that 
thou  wouldest  take  the  cause  into  thine 
own  hand,  and  judge  between  us  and  our 
enemies.  Stir  up  thy  strength,  0  Lord, 
and  come  and  help  us;  for  thou  givest  not 
alway  the  battle  to  the  strong,  but  canst 
save  by  many  or  by  few.  0  let  not  our 
sins  now  cry  against  us  for  vengeance; 
but  hear  us  thy  poor  servants  begging 
mercy  and  imploring  help,  and  that  thou 
wouldest  be  a  defense  unto  us  against  the 
face  of  the  enemy.  ]\Like  it  appear  that 
thou  art  our  Saviour  and  mighty  Deliv- 
erer, through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 
Amen.'  The  offering  up  of  this  invocation 
to  the  God  of  battles,  on  the  eve  of  that 
terrible  conflict,  was  a  most  unusual  occur- 
rence, eminently  worthy  the  just  cause  in 
Avhose  behalf  McDonough  was  about  to 
strike  so  decisive  a  blow.  It  is  also  related 
that,  at  the  very  moment  of  McDonough's 
ordering  his  vessels  cleared  and  prepared 
for  action — a  moment  when  modern  seamen, 
like  old  Romans,  are  extremely  alive  to 
signs,  which  the  superstition  natural  to 
sensitive  and  imaginative  persons  converts 
into  auspicious  or  ill-boding  occurrences, 
— a  cheerful  indication  animated  the  Sara- 
toga, such  as  Caesar  or  Napoleon  would 
have  proclaimed  to  his  soldiers  with 
delight,  and  they  would  have  hailed  with 
enthusiasm.  A  cock  fleio  upon  a  gun- 
slide,  clapped  his  wings,  and  crowed, — a 
signal  of  defiance  and  victory  which  broke 
the  silence  of  anxious  expectation  preced- 
ing the  battle,  being  received  with  exult- 
ant cheers  by  the  seamen. 

In  the  line  of  battle,  the  Confiance, 
Downie's  own  vessel,  was  opposed  to  the 
Saratoga,  commanded  by  McDonough ; 
the  Linnet  to  the  Eagle ;  the  British 
galleys    and  one   of    their   sloops    to    the 


Ticonderoga,  the  Preble,  and  the  left  divi- 
sion of  the  American  galleys  ;  their  other 
sloop  was  op[)Osed  to  the  galleys  on  the 
right.  To  complete  his  arrangements  for 
the  action,  ^McDonough  directed  two  of 
his  galleys  to  keep  in  shore  of  the  Eagle, 
and  a  little  to  windward  of  her,  to  sustain 
the  head  of  the  line;  one  or  two  more  to 
lie  opposite  to  the  interval  between  the 
Eagle  and  the  Saratoga;  a  few  ojiposite 
to  the  interval  between  the  Saratoga  and 
Ticonderoga;  and  two  or  three  opposite 
the  interval  between  the  Ticonderoga 
and  the  Preble.  The  x-ear  of  the  line 
aj)pears  not  to  have  been  covered  according 
to  this  plan. 

In  this  position,  the  weather  being  per* 
fectly  clear  and  calm,  and  the  bay  smooth, 
the  whole  force  on  \)oth  sides  became 
engaged  in  the  work  of  blood;  and  at  the 
same  moment,  as  if  the  firing  from  the 
first  gun  from  the  Confiance  had  been  the 
sifinal,  the  land  conflict  commenced 
between  the  Americans,  under  General 
Macomb,  and  the  British,  under  Sir  George 
Prevost.  The  latter  opened  a  heavy  fir? 
of  shot,  shells,  and  rockets,  upon  the  Amer' 
ican  lines,  and  this  was  continued  with 
little  interruption  until  sunset,  and 
returned  with  spirit  and  effect.  At  six 
o'clock,  the  firing  on  the  part  of  the  Brit- 
ish ceased,  every  battery  having  been 
silenced  by  the  American  artillery.  At 
the  commencement  of  the  bombarding, 
and  while  the  ships  were  engaged,  three 
desperate  efforts  were  made  by  the  British 
to  pass  the  Saranac,  for  the  purpose  of 
carrying  the  American  works  by  storm,  or 
assault.  With  this  view,  scaling  ladders, 
fascines,  and  every  implement  necessary 
for  the  purpose,  were  prepared.  One 
attempt  was  made  to  cross  at  the  village 
bridge,  one  at  the  upper  bridge,  and  one 
at  the  ford  waj',  three  miles  above  the 
works.  At  each  point,  they  were  met  at 
the  bank  by  the  American  troops  and 
repulsed. 

But  the  fate  of  the  day's  conflict,  in 
which  the  two  great  competitors  for  mili- 
tary superiority  were  now  so  earnestly 
engaged  on  the    land    and    on    the    sea, 


254 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


MCDONOUGH'S  VICTORY  ON  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


depended  chiefly  on  the  result  of  the  naval 
encounter,  and  this  latter  mainly  on  the 
result  of  the  sanguinary  battle  between 
the  two  largest  ships — the  Confiance  and 
the  Saratoga,  under  the  direction,  respec- 
tively, of  Downie  and  McDonough,  the 
commanders  of  the  fleets. 

As  the  British  came  nearer,  the  brig 
Eagle,  at  the  head  of  tlie  American  line, 
opened  fire  suddenly  with  a  broadside  from 
her  four  long-guns,  but  with  little  effect, 
on  account  of  the  distance.  McDonough, 
however, — according  to  Cooper's  narrative, 
—  did  not  give  the  order  to  commence, 
although  the  enemy's  galleys  now  opened, 
for  it  was  apparent  that  the  Eagle's  fire 
was  useless.  As  soon,  however,  as  it  was 
seen  that  her  shot  told,  McDonough  him- 
self, sighted  a  long  twenty-four,  and  the 
gun  was  fired.  This  shot  is  said  to  have 
struck  the  Confiance  near  the  outer  hawse- 
hole,  and  to  have  passed  the  length  of  her 
deck,  killing  and  wounding  several  men, 
and  carrying  away  the  wheel.  It  was  a 
signal  for  all  the  American  long-guns  to 
open,  and  it  was  soon  seen  that  the  Amer- 


ican commanding  ship  was  causing  her 
special  antagonist,  the  Confiance,  to  suffer 
heavily.  Still  the  enemy  advanced  stead- 
ily, and  in  the  most  gallant  manner,  con- 
fident if  he  could  get  the  desired  position 
with  his  vessels,  that  the  great  weight  of 
the  Confiance  would  at  once  decide  the 
fortunes  of  the  day.  But  he  had  miscal- 
culated his  own  powers  of  endurance,  and 
not  improbably  those  of  annoyance  pos- 
sessed by  the  enemy  on  the  other  side, 
under  the  gallant  McDonough.  Tiie 
anchors  of  the  Confiance  were  hanging  by 
the  stoppers,  in  readiness  to  let  go,  and 
the  larboard  bower  was  soon  cut  away,  as 
well  as  a  sjiare  anchor  in  tlie  larboard 
forechains.  In  short,  after  bearing  the 
fire  of  the  American  vessels  as  long  as 
possible,  and  the  wind  beginning  to  bafile, 
Downie  found  himself  reduced  to  tlie 
necessity  of  anchoring  while  still  at  the 
distance  of  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from 
the  American  line.  The  helm  was  put 
a-port,  the  ship  shot  into  the  wind,  and  a 
kedge  was  let  go,  while  the  vessel  took  a 
sheer,  and  brought  up  with  her  starboard 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


255 


bower.  In  doing  the  latter,  however,  the 
kedge  was  fouletl  and  became  <jf  no  use. 
In  coming  to,  ht'r  luilyards  were  let  run, 
and  she  haulud  up  lier  courses.  At  this 
time,  the  Linnet  and  Chubb  were  still 
standing  in,  farther  to  windward,  and  the 
former,  as  her  guns  bore,  iii'ed  a  broadside 
at  the  Saratoga.  The  Linnet  soon  after 
anchored,  somewhat  nearer  the  Confiance, 
getting  a  very  favorable  position  forward 
of  the  Eagle's  beam.  The  Chubb  kept 
under  way,  intending,  if  possible,  to  rake 
the  American  line.  The  Finch  got 
abreast  of  the  Ticonderoga,  under  her 
sweeps,  supported  by  the  gun-boats.  All 
the  English  vessels  came  to  in  very  hand- 
some style,  nor  did  the  Confiance  fire  a 
single  gun  until  secured.  As  soon  as 
Downie  had  performed  this  duty,  in  a 
seaman-like  manner,  his  ship  appeared  a 
sheet  of  fire,  discharging  all  her  guns  at 
nearly  the  same  instant,  pointed  j^rinci- 
pally  at  the  Saratoga.  The  effect  of  this 
broadside  thrown  from  sixteen  long 
twenty-fours,  double-shotted,  in  perfectly 
smooth  water,  with  guns  leveled  to 
point-blank  range,  and  coolly  sighted, 
was  terrible  upon  the  ship  that  received 
it,  killing  or  wounding  one-fifth  of 
her  men,  including  her  only  lieutenant, 
Gamble. 

But,  notwithstanding  the  greater  weight 
of  the  enemy's  battery  seemed  to  be  inclin- 
ing the  scale  of  victory  in  his  favor,  he 
suffered  prodigiously.  The  chances,  too, 
against  the  Saratoga,  w'ere  accidentally 
increased  by  the  commander  of  the  Eagle, 
who,  being  unable  to  bring  his  guns  to 
bear  as  he  wished,  cut  his  cable,  and, 
anchoring  between  the  Saratoga  and 
Ticonderoga,  exposed  the  former  vessel  to 
a  galling  fire  from  the  British  brig  Linnet. 
The  cannonade  from  all  the  vessels  was 
now  incessant  and  destructive,  dismount- 
ing guns,  disabling  crews  and  masts,  and 
on  both  sides  extremely  devastating;  every 
gun  on  the  side  of  the  Saratoga  facing  the 
enemy,  was  rendered  useless,  nor  was  the 
situation  of  the  English  such  as  to  inspire 
them  with  any  flattering  prospect  of  escap- 
ing annihilation. 


Things  had  so  culminated  that,  in  respect 
to  each  of  the  combatants,  the  fortunes  of 
the  contest  now  depended  upon  the  execu- 
tion of  one  of  the  most  diflicult  naval  ma- 
neuvers, that  of  winding  the  vessel  round, 
and  bringing  a  new  broadside  to  bear! 

This  feat  the  Confiance  essayed  in  vain. 
The  invincible  commander  and  crew  of  the 
Saratoga  saw,  at  once,  that  the  only 
chance  now  left  was  a  resort  to  some 
extraordinary  expedient  to  meet  the  immi- 
nent emergency.  Three  times  IMcDonough 
had  been  prostrated,  by  falling  sjiars, 
senseless  on  the  deck  of  his  ship — fought 
almost  to  the  water's  edge,  and  incapable 
of  further  effort.  It  was  at  this  critical 
moment,  that  an  old  seaman,  named  Brum, 
suggested  the  contrivance,  b^-  means  of  an 
anchor, — a  stern  anchor  being  put  on,  and 
the  bower  cable  cut, — to  turn  the  ship 
round,  so  as  to  bring  into  action  the  side 
remaining  uninjured.  Under  this  arrange- 
ment, the  gallant  ship  rounded  to,  and 
presented  a  fresh  broadside  to  the  enemy. 
This  was  attended  with  such  destructive 
effect,  that  the  Confiance  was  obliged  to 
surrender  in  a  few  minutes. 

No  sooner  had  the  Confiance  surrendered, 
than  the  whole  broadside  of  the  Saratoga 
was  brought  to  bear  upon  the  Linnet, 
which  struck  its  flag  fifteen  minutes  after- 
wards. The  sloop  which  was  opposed  to 
the  Eagle,  had  struck  some  time  before,  and 
drifted  down  the  line.  The  sloop  that  was 
with  their  galleys  had  also  struck.  Three 
of  their  galle^ys  were  also  sunk,  and  the 
others  pulled  off.  McDonough's  galleys 
were  about  obeying  with  alacrity  the  signal 
to  pursue  them,  when  report  was  made  of 
all  of  them  being  in  a  sinking  state;  it 
consequently  became  necessary  to  annul 
the  signal  to  the  galleys,  and  order  their 
men  to  the  pumps.  McDonough  states 
that  he  could  only  look  at  the  enemy's 
vessels  going  off  in  a  shattered  condition, 
for  there  was  not  a  mast  in  either  squadron 
that  could  stand  to  make  sail  on,  for  any 
purpose  whatsoever.  The  lower  rigging, 
being  nearly  shot  away,  was  hanging  down 
as  loosely  and  uselessly  as  though  it  had 
just  been  jjlaced  over  the  mast-heads. 


256 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


The  Saratoga  received  fifty-five  round 
shot  in  her  hull,  and  the  Confiance  one 
hundred  and  five.  The  action  lasted  with- 
out any  cessa<"ion,  on  a  smooth  sea,  at 
close  quarters,  two  hours  and  twenty  min- 
utes. In  the  American  squadron,  fifty-two 
were  killed,  and  fifty-eight  wounded.  In 
the  British,  eighty-four  were  killed,  and 
one  hundred  and  ten  wounded.  Among 
the  slain  was  Downie,  the  British  com- 
mandant. This  engagement  was  in  full 
view  of  both  armies,  and  of  throngs  of 
spectators  collected  on  the  heights,  border- 
ing on  the  bay,  to  witness  the  momentous 
scene.  It  was  viewed  by  the  inhabitants 
with  trembling  anxiety,  as  success  on  the 
part  of  the  British  would  have  opened  to 


them  an  easy  passage  into  the  heart  of  the 
ccv.ntry.  When,  therefore,  the  flag  of  the 
Confiance  was  struck,  the  shores  resounded 
with  the  deafening  acclamations  of  the 
troops  and  citizens.  The  British,  when 
they  saw  their  fleet  succumbing,  were 
terror-stricken.  Not  one  of  the  numerous 
British  ensigns  so  gaily  streaming  at  eight 
o'clock  was  visible  soon  after  ten.  British 
offensive  operations  in  that  vast  region 
were  now  stopped.  McDonough  received 
the  grateful  applause  of  his  countrj'men  ; 
congress  conferred  its  highest  commemor- 
ative honors ;  and  the  legislature  of  Ver- 
mont presented  him  with  a  magnificent 
estate  on  Cumberland  Head,  overlooking 
the  very  scene  of  his  splendid  victory. 


XXYII. 

GENERAL  JACKSON'S  TERRIBLE  ROUT  AND  SLAUGHTER 
OF  THE  BRITISH  ARMY  AT  NEW  ORLEANS.— 1815. 


His  Consummate  Generalship  in  tlie  Order  and  Conduct  of  this  Campaign. — The  War  with  England 
Terminated  by  a  Sudden  and  Splendid  Victory  to  the  American  Arms — Jackson  is  Hailed  as  One 
of  the  Greatest  of  Modern  Warriors,  and  as  the  Deliverer  and  Second  Savior  of  His  Country. — 
National  Military  Prestige  Gained  by  this  Decisive  Battle  — British  Invasion  of  Louisiana. — Prepar- 
ations to  Resist  Tliem. — Jackson  Hastens  to  New  Orleans. — His  Presence  Inspires  Confidence. — 
Martial  Law  Proclaimed. — Progress  of  the  British  Forces. — They  Rendezvous  at  Ship  Island. — 
Pirates  and  Indians  for  Allies. — Capture  of  the  United  States  Plotilla. — Arrival  of  Veterans  from 
England. — Desperate  Attempts  at  Storming. — Both  Armies  Face  Each  Other. — The  Day  of  Action, 
January  Eighth. — General  Pakenham  Leads  the  Charge. — His  Motto,  "  Booty  and  Beauty." — Fire 
and  Death  Open  Upon  Them. — They  are  Mown  Down  Like  Grass. — Pakenham  Falls  at  the  Onset. 
— Panic  and  Precipitate  Retreat. — America's  Motto,  "  Victory  or  Death." — Tiie  Result  at  Home  and 
Abroad  — Startling  and  Impressive  Effect. 


•'  The  redoonts  will  find  nut  whom  they  have  to  deal  with.    I  will  smash  them,  ao  help  me  GodI"— Gekeral  Jackson,  ox  assdminq 

THE    DEFKNSE    UK   NkW    OliLKANS. 


AMERICAN  DEFENSES  AT  NEW  ORLEANS. 

T  is  a  fact  fruitful  of  the  most  suggestive  reflections, 
that,  had  the  facilities  of  communication  by  steam 
and  electricity  been  enjoyed  in  1815,  as  they  are  at 
the  present  time,  the  battle  of  New  Orleans,  and 
the  blood  which  flowed  so  freely  on  that  memorable 
occasion,  would  have  been  spared  ;  for,  only  two 
weeks  previous  to  the  sanguinary  conflict,  namely,  on  the  24th 
of  December,  1814,  the  treaty  of  peace  between  the  United 
States  and  Great  Britain  was  signed  at  Ghent,  by  the  ap- 
pointed commissioners, — a  most  joj^ous  event  to  all,  but  the 
tidings  of  which  did  not,  unfortunatel_y,  reach  the  contending 
armies  in  Louisiana,  until  several  weeks  after  the  battle  took 
place.  Nevertheless,  perhaps  no  other  battle  in  American 
annals,  up  to  that  period,  had  given  such  prestige  to  the  valor 
of   American   arms,  nor  can  any  estimate  be   made   of   the 


258 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


immense  consequences  of  that  victory  to 
General  Jackson  and  his  country.  Mr. 
Bancroft,  the  historian,  sa3's  that  the 
heroes  of  antiquit}^  wouhl  have  contem- 
plated with  awe  the  unmatched  hardihood 
of  Jackson's  character. 

The  circumstances  which  led  to  a  battle 
so  creditable  in  its  result  to  the  genius 
and  bravery  of  the  American  army  were 
as  follows  :  On  the  twenty-fifth  of  August, 
1814,  a  British  army  landed  at  Pensacola, 
and  took  forcible  possession  of  the  place, 
being  aided  by  the  Spaniards  in  all  their 
proceedings  ;  they  collected  all  the  Indians 
that  would  resort  to  their  standard;  and 
Colonel  Nichols,  the  chief  British  com- 
mander, even  sent  an  officer  to  the  notori- 
ous piratical  establishment  at  Barataria 
to  enlist  the  chief,  Lafitte,  and  his  follow- 
ers, in  their  cause,  the  most  liberal  and 
tempting  inducements  being  held  out. 
These  people,  however,  showed  a  decided 
preference  for  the  American  cause,  and, 
deceiving  the  English  by  delay,  conveyed 
intelligence  of  their  designs  to  the  gov- 
ernor of  New  Orleans,  and  frankly  offered 
their  services  to  defend  the  country.  Dis- 
appointed in  securing  their  aid,  the  expe- 
dition proceeded  to  the  attack  of  Fort 
Bowyer,  on  Mobile  point,  commanded  by 
Major  Lawrence.  The  result,  however, 
was  a  loss  to  the  besiegers  of  more  than 
two  hundred  men ;  the  commodore's  ship 
was  so  disabled  that  they  set  fire  to  her, 
and  she  blew  up,  and  the  remaining  three 
vessels,  shattered  and  filled  with  wounded 
men,  returned  to  Pensacola.  While  the 
British  were  thus  sheltered  in  this  place, 
busily  occupied  in  bringing  over  the  Indi- 
ans to  join  them.  General  Jackson, — who, 
after  the  peace  with  the  Creeks  had  become 
active  commander  at  the  south, — formed 
an  expedition  of  about  four  thousand  men, 
to  dislodge  them.  He  summoned  the 
town,  was  refused  entrance  by  the  Spanish 
governor,  and  his  flag  of  truce  was  fii-ed 
upon  ;  the  British  soldiers  being  also  in 
the  forts,  Avhere  their  flag  liad  been 
hoisted,  in  conjunction  with  tlie  Spanish, 
the  day  before  tlie  American  forces 
appeared.     Preparations  were  immediately 


made  to  carrj^  the  place ;  one  battery 
having  been  taken  by  storm,  vfiih.  slight 
loss  on  either  side,  the  governor  surren- 
dered, the  English  having  previously 
retired  on  board  their  ships.  The  forts 
below,  which  commanded  the  passage, 
were  blown  up,  and  this  enabled  the 
English  fleet  to  put  to  sea. 

Returning  to  Mobile,  General  Jackson 
learned  that  preparations  were  making  by 
the  British  for  the  invasion  of  Louisiana, 
and  with  especial  reference  to  an  attack 
on  New  Orleans. 

He  accordingly  hastened  to  New  Orleans, 
which  he  found  in  great  alarm  and  confu- 
sion. He  at  once  put  in  operation  the 
most  rigorous  measures  of  defense.  The 
militia  of  Louisiana  and  Mississippi  were 
ordered  out  en  masse,  and  large  detach- 
ments from  Tennessee  and  Kentucky. 
From  a  previous  correspondence  with  Gov- 
ernor Claiborne,  General  Jackson  had  been 
informed  that  the  city  corps  had,  for  the 
most  part,  refused  obedience  to  the  orders 
which  had  been  given  them  to  turn  out ; 
that  they  had  been  encouraged  in  their  dis- 
obedience by  the  state  legislature,  then  in 
session  in  the  city ;  and  that,  although 
there  were  many  faithful  citizens  in  the 
place,  there  were  many  others  Avho  were 
more  devoted  to  the  interests  of  Spain,  and 
others  still  whose  hostility  to  the  English 
was  less  observable  than  their  dislike  to 
American  government. 

Under  these  circumstances,  and  finding 
that  the  statements  relative  to  the  disaf- 
fection of  the  populace  were  fully  confirmed, 
Jackson,  on  consultation  with  the  gover- 
nor, in  conjunction  with  Judge  Hall,  and 
many  influential  persons  of  the  city,  on 
the  sixteenth  of  December,  issued  an 
order,  declaring  the  city  and  environs  of 
New  Orleans  to  be  under  strict  martial 
law. 

Nor  were  the  military  modes  and  plans 
adojited  by  General  Jackson,  outside  of 
the  city  proper,  wanting  in  efficiency. 
Fort  St.  Philip,  which  guarded  the  passage 
of  the  river  at  the  detour  la  Plaquemine, 
was  strengthened  and  placed  under  the 
command  of  Major  Overton,  an  able  and 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


259 


skillful  engineer.  A  site  was  also  selected 
for  works  of  defense,  four  miles  below  the 
city,  where  its  destinies  were  ultimately  to 
be  determined.  The  ritjht  rested  on  the 
river,  and  the  left  was  flanked  by  an 
impenetrable  cypress  swam[),  which  ex- 
tended eastward  to  Lake  Pontchartrain, 
and  westward  to  within  a  mile  of  the  river. 
Between  the  swamp  and  the  river  was  a 
large  ditch  or  artificial  bayou  which  had 
been  made  for  agricultural  objects,  but 
which  now  served  an  important  military 
purpose.  On  the  northern  bank  of  this 
ditch,  the  entrenchments  were  thrown  up, 
and  large  quantities  of  cotton-bales  so 
arranged,  that  the  troops  could  be 
effectually  protected  from  the  fire  of  the 
British.  Each  flank  was  secured  by  an 
advance  bastion,  and  the  latter  protected 
by  batteries  in  the  rear.  These  works 
were  well  mounted  with  artillery.  Oppo- 
site this  position,  on  the  w'est  bank  of  the 
river,  on  a  rising  ground,  General  Morgan, 
with  the  city  and  drafted  militia,  was  sta- 
tioned ;  and  Commodore  Patterson,  with 
the  crews  of  the  Caroline  and  Louisiana, 
and  the  guns  of  the  latter,  formed  another, 
near  General  Morgan's ;  both  of  which 
entirely  enfiladed  the  approach  of  an 
enemy  against  the  principal  works.  A 
detachment  was  stationed  above  the  town, 
to  guard  the  pass  of  the  bayou  St.  John, 
if  an  attempt  should  be  made  from  that 
quarter. 

On  the  twenty-second  of  December,  the 
enemy  proceeded  from  their  rendezvous  on 
Ship  island,  with  all  their  boats  and  small 
craft  capable  of  navigating  the  lake  to  the 
bayou  Bienvenue,  and  having  surprised 
and  captured  the  videttes  at  the  mouth  of 
the  bayou,  the  first  division  accomplished 
their  landing  unobserved.  Major-General 
Villery,  of  the  New  Orleans  militia,  living 
on  the  bayou,  to  whom  the  important 
service  of  making  the  first  attack,  and 
giving  notice  of  the  enemy's  approach  was 
intrusted,  found  them  on  his  own  planta- 
tion, nine  miles  below  the  cit}^,  without 
any  previous  knowledge  of  their  approach. 

The  morning  of  New  Year's  day,  1815, 
was  very  dark  and  foggy  amid  the  swamps 


and  bogs  of  New  Orleans,  and  the  day  was 
somewhat  advanced  before  the  Americans 
discerned  how  near  the  enemy  had  ap- 
jiroached  to  them,  or  the  novel  use  which 
had  been  made  of  their  molasses  and  sugar 
hogsheads.  In  the  course  of  the  day, 
under  cover  of  these  batteries,  three 
unsuccessful  attempts  were  made  to  storm 
the  American  works.  By  four  in  the 
afternoon,  all  the  enemy's  batteries  were 
silenced,  and  the  next  night  found  them 
in  their  former  position. 

On  the  fourth  of  Januar}^  General 
Adair  arrived,  with  four  thousand  Ken- 
tucky militia,  principally  without  arms. 
The  muskets  and  munitions  of  war,  des- 
tined for  the  supply  of  this  corps,  w^ere 
provided  at  Pittsburg,  but  did  not  leave 
that  place  until  the  twenty-fifth  of  Decem- 
ber, and  arrived  at  New  Orleans  not  until 
several  days  after  the  decisive  battle  of 
January  eighth.  On  the  sixth,  the  enemy 
received  their  last  re-enforcement  of  three 
thousand  men  from  England,  under  Major- 
General  Lambert.  But  before  the  final 
assault  on  the  American  lines,  the  British 
general  deemed  it  necessary  to  dislodge 
General  Morgan  and  Commodore  Patter- 
son, from  their  positions  on  the  right 
bank.  These  posts  so  effectually  enfiladed 
the  approach  to  General  Jackson's  works, 
that  the  army  advancing  to  the  assault, 
must  be  exposed  to  the  most  imminent 
hazard.  To  accomplish  this  object,  boats 
were  to  be  transported  across  the  island 
from  lake  Borgne  to  the  Mississippi ;  for 
this  pi;rpose  the  British  had  been  labori- 
ously employed  in  deepening  and  widening 
the  canal  or  bayou  Bienvenue,  on  which 
they  first  disembarked.  On  the  seventh, 
they  succeeded  in  opening  the  embank- 
ment on  the  river,  and  completing  a  com- 
munication from  the  lake  to  the  Missis- 
sippi. In  pushing  the  boats  through,  it 
was  found,  at  some  places,  that  the  canal 
was  not  of  sufficient  width,  and  at  others 
the  banks  fell  in  and  choked  the  passage, 
thus  occasioning  gi-eat  dela}'- ;  at  length, 
however,  they  succeeded  in  hauling  through 
a  sufficient  number  to  transport  five  hun^ 
dred  troops  to  the  right  bank. 


260 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


On  the  left  bank,  where  General  Jack- 
son in  person  commanded,  everything  was 
in  readiness  to  meet  the  assault  when  it 
should  be  made.  The  redoubt  on  the 
levee  was  defended  by  a  comjjany  under 
Lieutenant  Ross.  The  regular  troops 
occupied  that  j^art  of  the  entrenchment 
next  to  the  river.  General  Carroll's  divi- 
sion was  in  the  center,  supported  by  Gen- 
eral Adair's  Kentucky  troops ;  while  the 
extreme  left,  extending  for  a  considerable 
distance  into  the  swamp,  was  protected  by 
the  brigade  of  General  Coffee.  How  soon 
the  onset  should  take  place,  was  uncertain  ; 
at  what  moment  rested  with  the  enemy, — 
with  the  Americans,  to  be  in  readiness  for 


pace  with  the  zeal  and  preparation  of  the 
enemy.  He  seldom  slept ;  he  was  always 
at  his  jjost,  performing  the  duties  of  both 
general  and  soldier.  His  sentinels  were 
doubled,  and  extended  as  far  as  possible  in 
the  direction  of  the  British  camp ;  while  a 
considerable  portion  of  the  troops  were 
constantly  at  the  line,  with  arms  in  their 
hands,  ready  to  act,  when  the  first  alarm 
should  be  given.  For  eight  daj's  did  the 
two  armies  remain  thus  upon  the  same 
field,  in  battle  array  and  in  view  of  each 
other,  without  anything  decisive  on  either 
side  being  effected.  Twice,  since  their 
landing,  had  the  British  columns  essayed 
to  effect  by  storm  the  execution  of  their 


Q^^^^^--c:^^o£.->t^       C^^JLu^^y^^^,^Si.^C^.^y 


resistance.  There  were  many  circum- 
stances, however,  favoring  the  belief  that 
the  hour  of  contest  was  fast  approaching ; 
the  unusual  bustle, —  the  efforts  of  the 
enemy  to  carry  their  boats  into  the  river, 
— the  fascines  and  scaling-ladders  that 
were  preparing;  all  these  circumstances 
indicated  the  hour  of  attack  to  be  near  at 
hand.  General  Jackson  was  not  only 
unmoved  by  these  appearances,  but,  accord- 
ing to  General  Eaton's  statements,  he 
anxiously  desired  a  contest,  which,  he 
believed,  would  give  a  triumph  to  his 
arms,  and  terminate  the  hardshi])s  of  his 
soldiers.  Unremitting  in  exertion,  and 
constantly   vigilant,   his  precaution   kept 


plans,  and  twice    had   failed  and    retired 
from  the  contest. 

The  eighth  of  January^  1815,  at  length 
arrived.  The  day  dawned;  and  the  sig- 
nals, intended  to  produce  concert  in  the^ 
enemy's  movements,  were  descried.  On 
the  left,  near  the  swamp,  a  sky-rocket  was 
perceived  rising  in  the  air ;  and  presently 
another  ascended  from  the  right,  next  the 
river.  They  were  intended  to  announce 
that  all  was  prepared  and  ready,  to  proceed 
and  carry  by  storm  a  defense  which  again 
and  again  had  foiled  their  utmost  efforts. 
Instantly  the  charge  was  made,  and  with 
such  rapidity,  that  the  American  soldiers 
at  the  outposts  with  difficulty  fled  in. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


261 


The  British  batteries,  whicli  luul  liocn 
demolished  on  the  first  of  the  month,  luul 
been  re-established  during  the  preceding 
night,  and  heavy  pieces  of  cannon  mounted, 
to  aid  in  their  intended  operations.  These 
now  opened,  and  showers  of  bombs  and 
balls  were  poured  upon  our  line,  while  the 
air  vvas  lighted  with  their  congreve  rock- 
ets. The  two  divisions,  commanded  by 
Sir  Edward  Pakenham  in  person,  and 
supported  by  Generals  Keane  and  Gibbs, 
pressed  forward;  the  right  against  the 
center  of  General  Carroll's  command, — 
the  left  against  our  redoubt  on  the  levee. 
A  thick  fog,  that  obscured  the  morning, 
enabled  them  to  approach  within  a  short 
distance  of  our  entrenchment,  before  they 
■were  discovered.  They  were  now  perceived 
advancing,  with  firm,  quick,  and  steady 
pace,  in  column,  with  a  front  of  sixty  or 
seventy  deep.  The  American  troops,  who 
had  for  some  time  been  in  readiness,  and 
waiting  their  appearance,  gave  three  deaf- 
ening cheers,  and  instantly  the  whole  line 
vfSiS  lighted  with  the  blaze  of  their  fire. 
A  burst  of  artillery  and  small-arms,  pour- 
ing with  destructive  aim  upon  them, 
mowed  down  their  front,  and  arrested  their 
advance.  It  was  a  perfect  sheet  of  fire 
and  death  ! 

The  havoc  and  horror  before  them — the 
terrible  carnage  which  swept  down  their 
advancing  ranks,  —  became  at  last  too 
great  to  be  withstood,  and  already  Avere 
the  British  troops  seen  wavering  in  their 
determination,  and  receding  from  the  con- 
flict. At  this  moment.  Sir  Edward  Paken- 
ham, the  distinguished  commander-in-chief 
of  the  British  forces,  hastening  to  the 
front,  endeavored  to  encourage  and  inspire 
them  with  renewed  zeal.  His  example, 
however,  was  of  short  continuance,  for, 
when  near  the  crest  of  the  glacis,  he 
received  a  ball  in  the  knee ;  still  continu- 
ing to  lead  on  his  men,  another  shot  soon 
pierced  his  body,  and  he  was  carried  in 
mortal  agony  from  the  field,  in  the  arms  of 
his  aid-de-camp.  Nearly  at  the  same  time, 
Major-General  Gibbs,  the  second  British 
officer  in  command,  received  a  mortal 
wound  when   within   a  few   vards  of  the 


lines,  and  was  removed.  The  third  in 
command  also,  Major-General  Keane, 
while  at  the  head  of  his  troops  near  the 
glacis,  was  terribly  wounded,  and  at  once 
borne  away. 

At  this  moment.  General  Lambert, — 
who  had  arrived  from  England  but  two 
days  before,  and  found  himself  now  the 
only  surviving  general, — was  advancing  at 
a  small  distance  in  the  rear,  with  the 
reserve,  and  met  the  columns  precipitately 
retreating,  broken  and  confused.  His 
efforts  to  stop  them  were  unavailing, — 
onward  they  continued  in  their  headlong 
retreat,  until  they  reached  a  ditch,  at  the 
distance  of  four  hundred  yards,  where  a 
momentary  safety  being  found,  the  pant- 
ing and  fear-stricken  fugitives  were  ral- 
lied, and  halted. 

The  field  before  them,  over  which  they 
had  so  confidently  advanced,  was  strewed 
with  the  dead  and  dying.  Imminent 
danger  faced  them ;  yet,  urged  and  en^ 
couraged  by  their  officers,  who  feared 
their  own  disgrace  involved  in  the  failure, 
they  again  moved  to  the  charge.  They 
were  already  near  enough  to  deploy,  and 
were  endeavoring  to  do  so ;  but  the  same 
constant  and  unremitted  resistance  that 
caiised  their  first  retreat,  continued  yet 
unabated.  Our  batteries  had  never  ceased 
their  fire;  their  constant  discharges  of 
grape  and  canister,  and  the  fatal  aim  of 
our  musketry,  mowed  down  the  front  of 
the  columns  as  fast  as  they  could  be 
formed.  Satisfied  nothing  could  be  done, 
and  that  certain  destruction  awaited  all 
further  attempts,  they  forsook  the  contest 
and  the  field  in  disorder,  leaving  it  almost 
entirely  covered  with  the  dead  and 
wounded.  It  was  in  vain  their  officers 
endeavored  to  animate  them  to  further 
resistance,  and  equally  vain  to  attempt 
coercion.  The  panic  produced  by  the 
dreadful  repulse  they  had  experienced,— 
the  sight  of  the  field  on  which  they  had 
acted,  covered  with  the  ghastly  bodies  of 
their  countrymen, —  and  the  bitter  fact 
that,  with  their  most  zealous  exertions, 
they  had  been  unable  to  obtain  the 
slightest     advantage;    all    these     circum- 


262 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


stances  were  well  calculated  to  make  even 
the  most  submissive    soldier  oppose   the 


autliority  that  would  have  controlled  him. 
The  decided  advantage  of  the  Americans 


gave  to  the  conduct  of  the  enemy  more  of 
the  character  of  madness  than  of  valor. 
As  has  already  been  stated,  the 
fall  of  General  Pakenham  and 
the  two  next  in  command  de- 
volved the  leadership  upon 
Lambert,  the  only  general  offi- 
cer left  upon  the  field,  and  to 
whom  had  been  consigned  the 
charge  of  the  reserve ;  and 
though,  meeting  the  discom- 
fited troops  in  their  flight,  he 
endeavored  to  restore  the  for- 
tune of  the  day,  the  effort  was 
fruitless  to  the  last  degree. 
On  the  ninth.  General  Lam- 
"  bert  determined  to  relinquish 
g  altogether  so  desperate  and 
g  hojieless  an  enterprise,  and 
§  immediately  commenced  the 
g  necessary  preparations,  though 
<  with  the  utmost  secrecy.  It 
*  was  not  until  the  night  of  the 
&  eighteenth,  however,  that  the 
§  British  camp  was  entirely 
to   evacuated. 

The  loss  of  the  British  in 
S  this  fatal  expedition  was  im- 
mense, the  narrow  field  of  strife 
^  between  the  opposing  combat- 
ants being  strewed  with  dead. 
So  dreadful  a  carnage,  consid- 
w  ering  the  length  of  time  and 
the  numbers  engaged,  has  sel- 
w  dom  been  recorded.  Two  thou- 
sand, at  the  lowest  estimate, 
pressed  the  earth,  besides  such 
of  the  wounded  as  were  not 
able  to  escape.  The  loss  of  the 
Americans  did  not  exceed  seven 
killed,  and  six  wounded.  Mili- 
tary annals  do  not  furnish  a 
more  extraordinary  instance  of 
disparity  in  the  slain,  between 
the  victors  and  vanquished. 
The  entire  British  force  en- 
gaged in  this  attempted  reduc- 
tion of  New  Orleans,  amounted 
to  twelve  thousand  men  ;  the 
Americans  numbered  some  six  thousand, 
chiefly  militia. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


263 


Pakenliam,  the  clistinguislietl  leador  of 
the  British  forces,  was  a  brotlier-iii-law  of 
the  great  Duke  of  Wellington,  liad  long 
been  in  high  repute  for  military  skill  and 
personal  bravery,  and  on  this  occasion 
numbered  among  his  troops  those  who  had 
won  laurels  of  victory  on  the  battle-fields 
of  Europe.  But,  that  he  felt  convinced  of 
the  magnitude  and  hazard  of  his  present 
undertaking,  as  distinguished  from  all 
previous  ones,  is  evident.  When  an  officer 
leads  his  troops  on  a  forlorn  attempt,  he 
not  unfrequentl}^  places  before  them  allure- 
ments stronger  than  either  authority  or 
duty.  According  to  General  Eaton's  his- 
torical statements,  a  positive  charge  is 
made  against  General  Pakenham,  in  this 
respect,  —  inducements  having  been  held 
out  by  him,  than  which  nothing  more 
inviting  could  be  offered  to  an  infuriated 
soldiery.  By  this  gallant  but  misguided 
general,  there  was  promised  to  his  soldiers 
— to  excite  their  cupidity — the  wealth  of 
the  city,  as  a  recompense  for  their  gal- 
lantry and  desperation;  while,  with  brutal 
licentiousness,  they  were  to  revel  in  lawless 
indulgence,  and  triumph,  uncontrolled, 
over  female  innocence.  The  history  of 
Europe,  since  civilized  warfare  began,  may 
be  challenged  to  afford  an  instance  of  such 
gross  and  wanton  outrage.  The  facts  and 
circumstances  which  were  developed  at  the 
time,  left  no  doubt  on  the  minds  of  the 
American  officers,  but  that  '  Booty  and 
Beauty'  was  the  British  watchword  of  the 
day.  The  information  was  obtained  from 
prisoners,  and  confirmed  by  the  books  of 
two  of  their  orderly  sergeants  taken  in 
battle. 

Jackson  was  well  aware,  from  the  first, 
of  the  bold  and  reckless  character  of  the 
enemy  he  had  to  deal  with.  With  patri- 
otic indignation  he  declared:  "The  red- 
coats will  find  out  whom  they  have  to  deal 
with.  1  will  smash  them,  so  help  me 
God  !  "     And  the  spirit  with  which  he  led 


his  men  forward  may  be  easily  judged  of 
from  his  emphatic  exclamation — •■  Jieniem- 
ber,  our  watchword  is  '  Victory  or  iJcath.  !  ' 
We  will  enjoy  our  liberty,  or  perish  in  the 
last  ditch  !  "  Never  before  did  a  general 
bring  ui»oii  his  troops  such  a  spell  of 
enthusiastic  devotion  to  himself,  and  to 
the  demands  of  the  hour.  So,  too,  in  the 
flush  of  triumph,  he  did  not  forget  mercy 
and  magnanimit3\  "  General  Jackson," 
says  Blackwood's  Magazine,  of  London, 
"  behaved  with  humanity  and  generosity 
to  all  his  prisoners,  which  did  him  as  great 
honor  as  his  conduct  in  the  defense.  We 
do  not  hesitate  to  call  him  a  great  man." 
Such  was  the  encomium  bestowed  upon 
him  by  the  pen  of  an  enemy, — one  of 
the  most  influential  organs  of  British 
opinion. 

At  this  time,  the  person  of  General 
Jackson  is  described  as  being  neither 
robust  nor  elegant.  He  was  six  feet  and 
one  inch  high,  remarkably  straight  and 
spare,  and  weighing  about  one  hundred 
and  forty-five  pounds.  His  jjliysique 
appeared  to  disqualify  him  for  hardshiji ; 
3'^et,  accustomed  to  it  from  early  life,  few 
were  capable  of  enduring  fatigue  to  the 
same  extent,  or  with  less  injury.  His 
dark  blue  eyes,  with  brows  arched  and 
slightly  projecting,  possessed  a  marked 
expression ;  but  when  from  any  cause 
excited,  they  sparkled  with  peculiar  luster 
and  penetration.  In  his  manners  he  Avas 
pleasing  —  in  his  '  address  commanding. 
His  countenance,  marked  with  firmness 
and  decision,  yet  beamed  with  a  strength 
and  intelligence  that  struck  at  first  sight. 
In  his  deportment,  he  was  easy,  affable, 
familiar,  and  accessible  to  all. 

The  annunciation  of  the  triumphant 
defense  of  New  Orleans  was  hailed,  in 
every  section  of  the  country,  with  accla- 
mations of  delight,  and  won  for  Jackson 
the  title  of  "  the  conqueror  of  the  con- 
querors of  Napoleon." 


XXVIII. 
THE    EYER-MEMORABLE    SEPTEMBER    GALE.— 1815. 


Its  Violence  and  Destructiveness  Without  a  Parallel  Since  the  Settlement  of  the  Country. — Terror 
Excited  by  Its  Sudden  and  Tumultuous  Force. — Unprecedented  Phenomena  of  Tempest,  Deluge  and 
Flood. — One  Hour  of  Indescribable  Havoc  on  the  Land  and  Sea. — Premonitory  Indications. — Heavy 
North-east  Rains. — Sudden  and  Violent  Changes  of  Wind. — Its  Rapidity  and  Force  Indescribable. — 
Demolition  of  Hundreds  of  Buildings. — Orchards  and  Forests  Instantly  Uprooted. — Raging  and 
Foaming  of  the  Sea. — Its  Spray  Drives  Like  a  Snow-storm  over  the  Land. — Tremendous  Rise  in  the 
Tides  — Irresistible  Impetuosity  of  the  Flood. — Several  Feet  of  Water  in  the  Streets. — Innumerable 
Fragments  Fill  the  Air. — Fligiit  for  Safety  to  the  Fields. — The  Whole  Coast  Swarms  with  Wrecks. 
— Perils,  Escapes,  Fatalities. — Peculiar  Meteorological  Facts. — Bright  Skies  in  the  Midst  of  the  Tem- 
pest— SufiFocating  Current  of  Hot  Air. — Sea  Fowls  in  the  Depths  of  the  Interior. — Effect  Upon 
•  Lands,  Crops,  and  Wells. — All  New  England  Desolated. — Comparison  with  Other  Gales. 


— "  Ftill  overhead 
The  minslini  tempest  we-irs  its  gloom,  and  still 
The  deluue  deepens;  till  tiie  fields  around 
Lie  sunk  and  ftatted  in  the  sordid  wave. 

All  that  the  winds  had  spared, 
In  one  wild  moment  ruined." 


lUDGING  from  jvll  the  information,  historical 
and  traditional,  relating  to  the  great  American 
gales  during  the  last  hundred  years,  it  would 
appear  that  the  one  which  occurred  in  New  C^  ^ 
England,  on  the  23d  of  September,  1815,  was^/yT^ 
and  is  still  without  a  parallel,  in  its  extraordi-^ 
nary  characteristics  of  violence  and  destruc-   ^ 
tiveness.      In   the   history    of   the    country, 
dating  back  to  its  earliest  annals,  there  is  no 
account   of  any    gale  or   hurricane    equaling 
this,  in  its  various  phenomena  of  suddenness, 
severity    and  power.       As   distinguishing    it, 
therefore,   above  all  others  of  its  class,  this 
lias  ever  since  been  called  the  Great  Se^^tem- 
her  Gale. 

The  observations  of  the  character,  course 
and  effects  of  this  wonderful  storm,  made  by 
Professor  Farrar  and  others,  for  the  latitude 
of  Boston,  show  that  it  w%as  there  preceded  by 
rain,  which  continued  to  fall  for  about  twenty-four  hours  with  a  moderate  wind 
from  the  north-east.  Early  in  the  morning  of  the  twenty-third,  the  wind  shifted 
to  the  east,  and  began   to  blow  in   gusts   accompanied  with  showers.     It   continued 


l)i;.STKl'CTi()N    liV    Tin;    (iltlOAT    (iALh;    AM>    ILOOlJ. 


GREAT  AND  IMEMORAULE  EVENTS. 


265 


to  change  toward  the  soutli  and  to  increase 
in  violence  wliile  tlie  rain  abated.  Be- 
tween nine  and  ten  o'cK)ck  in  the  fore- 
noon, it  began  to  excite  ahirni.  Cliinineys 
and  trees  were  blown  o\er  botli  to  tlie 
Avest  and  north  ;  but  shingles  and  slates, 
that  were  torn  from  the  roofs  of  buildings, 
were  carried  to  the  greatest  distance  in  the 
direction  of  about  three  points  west  of 
north. 

Between  half-past  ten  and  half-past 
eleven  o'clock,  the  greatest  destruction 
took  place.  The  rain  ceased  about  the 
time  the  wind  shifted  from  south-east  to 
south;  a  clear  si: y  was  visible  in  viaii// 
places  durinr/  the  utmost  violence  of  the 
temitest,  and  clouds  were  seen  fl.ying  with 
great  rapidity  in  the  direction  of  the  wind. 
The  air  had  an  unusual  appearance.  It 
was  considerably  darkened  by  the  exces- 
sive agitation,  and  filled  with  the  leaves 
of  trees  and  other  light  substances,  which 
w^ere  raised  to  a  great  height  and  whirled 
about  in  eddies,  instead  of  being  driven 
directly  forward  as  in  a  common  storm. 
The  rivers  raged  and  foamed  like  the  sea  in 
a  storm,  and  the  spray  was  raised  to  the 
height  of  sixty  or  one  hundred  feet  in  the 
form  of  thin  white  clouds,  which  were 
drifted  along  in  a  kind  of  wave  form,  like 
snow  in  a  violent  snow-storm.  Travelers 
were  frequently  driven  back  by  the  force 
of  the  wind,  and  were  obliged  to  screen 
themselves  behind  fences  and  trees  or  to 
advance  obliquely.  It  was  impossible  for 
even  the  stoutest  man  to  stand  firm  in  a 
place  exposed  to  the  full  force  of  the  wind. 
•  The  pressure  of  the  wind  was  like  that 
of  a  rapid  current  of  water;  pedestrians 
could  with  great  difficulty  hear  each  other 
speak  at  the  distance  of  two  or  three 
3'ards ;  and  they  moved  about  almost  as 
awkwardly  as  if  attempting  to  wade  in  a 
strong  tide. 

In  Boston  harbor,  the  sea  had  risen 
unusually  high,  two  hours  before  the  calen- 
dar time  of  high  watei*.  But  the  direction 
of  the  wind  at  tliis  time  tended  to  coun- 
teract the  tide,  and  thus  secured  the  port 
from  that  awful  calamity  which  threatened 
it.     Great  losses,  however,  were  sustained 


from  the  wind  alone ;  manj'^  buildings 
were  blown  down,  great  numbers  were 
unroofed  or  otherwise  injured,  and  few 
entirely  escaped.  The  most  calamitous 
destruction  befell  the  trees, — orchards  and 
forests  exhibiting  a  scene  of  desolation, 
the  like  of  wliicli  had  never  before  been 
witnessed  in  America.  The  roads  in  many 
places  were  rendered  impassable,  not  only 
through  woods,  but  in  the  more  cultivated 
towns,  where  they  ha[)pened  to  be  lined 
with  trees ;  and  the  streets  in  Boston  and 
neighboring  towns  were  strewed  with  the 
ruins  of  innumerable  gardens  and  fruit- 
yards.  A  considerable  proportion  of  the 
large  and  beautiful  trees  in  Boston  mall, 
and  in  other  public  walks,  some  of  which 
trees  measured  from  eight  to  twelve  feet 
in  circumference,  were  torn  up  by  the 
roots  and  prostrated.  Apple  trees,  in 
especial,  being  sepai'ated  at  a  considerable 
distance  from  each  other,  were  overturned 
in  great  numbers  ;  no  less  than  five  thou- 
sand loere  thus  destroyed  in  the  town  of 
Dorchester  alone.  In  this  same  town, 
also,  seventeen  houses  were  unroofed,  sixty 
chimneys  blown  over,  and  about  forty 
barns  demolished. 

Rhode  Island  felt  the  full  force  of  this 
remarkable  gale,  Providence  suffering  to 
the  amount  of  millions  of  dollars,  accom- 
panied with  a  fearful  loss  of  life,  as  in 
other  places.  This  was  owing  to  the  wind 
blowing  directly  up  the  river  on  which  the 
place  is  built,  unbroken  by  the  cape  or 
Long  Island,  and  in  sweeping  over  such 
an  extent  of  water  it  accumulated  a  dread- 
ful and  most  destructive  tide,  so  that 
vessels  were  actually  driven  over  the 
wJiarves  and  through,  the  streets.  Early 
in  the  morning,  the  wind  was  north-east, 
but,  at  about  eight,  it  shifted  to  south-east, 
and  soon  began  to  blow  violently,  continu- 
ing to  increase  until  ten,  when  it  became 
a  hurricane.  All  was  now  confusion  and 
dismay  in  the  exposed  region.  The  tide, 
impelled  by  the  tempest,  overflowed  the 
wliarves  ;  vessels,  broken  from  their  moor- 
ings in  the  stream,  and  their  fastenings  at 
the  wharves,  were  seen  driving  with  dread- 
ful iuipetuosity  towards  the  bridge,  which 


266 


OUR  riPvST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


they  swept  away,  without  a  moment's 
check  to  their  progress,  and  passed  on  to 
the  head  of  the  basin,  where  the}^  drove 
high  up  the  bank.  Every  exertion  to 
protect  property,  was  rendered  futile  by 
the  violence  of  the  wind,  the  rapid  rise  of 
the  water,  and  the  falling  of  trees  ;  indeed, 
these,  with  the  crashing  of  chimneys, 
tumbling  upon  the  houses  and  descending 
into  the  streets,  together  with  tiles  and 
railings  from  the  tops  of  buildings,  and 
many  other  species  of  dangerous  missile 
flying  through  the  air,  rendered  it  perilous 
to  appear  in  the  streets.  All  considera- 
tion of  property,  however,  was  soon  for- 
gotten in  the  more  important  one  of  self- 
preservation.      The   tempest    still    raged 


elements,  were  seen  removing  the  panic- 
stricken  inmates  ;  and  on  the  east  side,  an 
awful  torrent  rolled  through  the  main 
street,  in  depth  nearly  to  a  man's  waist, 
and  by  which  boats,  masts,  bales  of  cotton, 
and  immense  quantities  of  property  of 
every  description,  were  driven  along  with 
resistless  force.  It  was  cui  awful  and  tei"- 
rific  scene.  Every  store  below,  on  the 
east  side,  was  either  carried  away  or  com- 
pletely shattered ;  and  every  building  on 
the  opposite  side  and  on  the  wharves,  were 
swejDt  from  their  fovmdations — so  that  all 
the  space,  where,  an  hour  or  two  before, 
were  so  many  valuable  wharves  and  stores 
crowded  with  shipping  and  merchandise, 
was  now  one  wide  waste   of   tumultuous 


THE  EVKR-MEMOBABLE  GALE,  SEPTEMBER  23,   1815. 


with  increasing  violence ;  the  flood  was 
overwhelming  the  lower  parts  of  the  town  ; 
stores  and  dwelling-houses  were  tottering 
on  their  foundations,  and  then,  plunging 
into  the  deluge,  blended  their  shattered 
remains  with  the  wrecks  of  vessels, — the 
whole  passing,  with  irresistible  impetuos- 
ity, in  full  view,  on  the  current  to  the  head 
of  the  cove,  to  join  the  already  accumu- 
lated mass  of  similar  wrecks. 

By  this  time,  the  water  on  the  west  side 
of  the  river  had  risen  nearly  to  the  tops  of 
the  lower  windows  of  the  houses,  and  boats 
and  scows,  struggling  with  the  maddened 


water.  Only  two  small  vessels,  of  all  that  * 
were  in  the  harbor,  succeeded  in  riding 
out  the  gale,  all  the  rest  having  drifted 
ashore,  or  been  carried  high  up  on  the 
wharves.  It  was  such  a  scene  of  wide- 
spread ruin  and  desolation,  as  beggars  all 
description — vessels  of  all  kinds  and  in 
every  position,  blended  promiscuously, 
with  carriages,  lumber,  wrecks  of  build- 
ings of  every  variety,  furniture,  and  tens 
of  thousands  of  fragments  from  far  and 
near,  all  told  the  story  of  universal  havoc 
and  destruction.  Women  and  ch  lldren  were 
saved  in  boats  from  chamber-windows. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


267 


One  distressing  and  peculiar  scene, 
•whicli  took  place  among  the  sliipping,  will 
serve  as  a  description  of  a  thousand  other 
cases  which  occurred  during  the  storm.  A 
brig,  loaded  and  ready  for  sea,  with  live- 
stock, drove  against  the  end  of  a  wharf, 
and  her  head  rested  on  it;  here  she  hung, 
appearing  every  moment  as  if  she  would 
upset,  and  plunge  her  crew  into  the  raging 
flood.  The  men  were  seen  clinging  to  her, 
awaiting  their  fate,  as  no  soul  could  ven- 
ture to  their  succor, — the  whole  distance 
between  the  vessel  and  the  houses  being 
filled  with  roofs  and  parts  of  stores  tum- 
bling with  the  violence  of  the  tempest. 
Expecting  every  moment  to  be  precipitated 
into  the  torrent,  they  determined  at  last 
upon  the  final  but  perilous  attempt  to  quit 
the  vessel  and  gain  the  houses.  Strug- 
gling with  the  violence  of  the  gale,  and 
■with  the  rolling  and  bounding  materials, 
in  endeavoring  to  get  a  foothold,  they  at 
last  reached  the  rear  of  the  houses,  where 
some  Avere  taken  into  the  second  story, 
and  others,  unable  to  be  reached,  succeeded 
in  braving  the  waves  until  they  swam  to  a 
place  of  safet3^ 

But  it  would  be  absolutely  impossible  to 
giv>^  an  extended  detail  of  the  disastrous 
scenes  pertaining  to  each  sejjarate  locality, 
although  some  of  the  incidents  and  items 
of  the  gale's  destructive  effects  deserve  to 
be  cited  for  their  very  marvelousness. 
Mention  has  already  been  made  of  the 
devastation  in  Dorchester,  near  Boston, — 
unparalleled  since  its  settlement, — result- 
ing in  seventeen  houses  being  unroofed, 
sixtij  chimneys  prostrated,  forty  barns 
demolislied,  and  more  than  five  thousand 
trees  destroyed.  The  tiianber  of  buildings, 
large  and  small,  destroyed  in  Providence, 
was  estimated  at  five  hundred,  and  about 
fifty  vessels  ivrecked.  In  many  instances, 
majestic  oaks,  which  had  braved  the  tem- 
pests an  hundred  years  or  more,  were 
thrown  down,  or  twisted  into  shreds  ;  and 
in  Danvers,  Mass.,  the  venerable  pear  tree, 
imported  and  transplanted  by  Governor 
Endicott,  was  made  terrible  havoc  with. 
In  Chelsea,  not  far  from  Danvers,  the 
great  Elm  tree,  seventeen   feet  in  girth, 


and  which  had  a  portico  built  upon  its 
limbs,  capable  of  holding  thirty  persons, 
was  among  the  wrecked.  In  the  little 
town  of  Acton,  about  twent}-  miles  from 
Boston,  the  damage  amounted  to  forty 
thousand  dollars.  At  Stonington,  Conn., 
t]ie  tide  rose  seventeen  feet  higher  than 
usual,  all  the  vessels  going  ashore  or  sink- 
ing, and  all  the  wharves  and  many  luiild- 
ings  being  destroyed.  The  fate  of  one 
citizen  of  this  town  was  almost  as  disas- 
trous as  that  of  Job  of  yore :  His  house, 
ropewalk,  blacksmith's  shop,  and  other 
buildings,  with  all  their  contents,  were 
swept  away,  and,  melanchol}'  to  relate,  his 
wife,  daughter,  wife's  mother,  and  a 
young  lady  visitor,  all  perished  in  the 
billows.  All  along  the  New  England 
coast,  and  as  far  as  New  York,  the  damage 
done  to  the  shipping  was  immense,  hun- 
dreds of  vessels  with  their  cargoes  being 
wrecked  ;  and  almost  every  seaport  as  well 
as  inland  town  suffering  to  some  degree, 
— in  man}'  instances,  almost  irrepai'able,  in 
kind  and  extent.  Innumerable  churches 
were  wholly  or  i^artially  ruined,  and  the 
number  of  cattle  killed  Avas  very  great. 
The  gale  was  also  severely  felt  by 
vessels  off  Cape  Hatteras,  in  the  gulf 
stream,  off  the  cajies  of  Delaware,  at  Sandj' 
Hook,  Nantucket  Shoals,  Cape  Ann,  Cape 
Henlopen,  etc. 

The  course  of  the  gale,  as  ascertained 
from  data  procured  from  various  points, 
furnishes  facts  of  peculiar  meteorological 
interest.  Thus,  in  Philadelphia,  tliere 
was,  during  most  of  the  night  of  the 
twenty-second,  a  gale  from  the  north-east, 
with  heavy  rain.  Earl}'  the  next  day,  the 
wind  veered  to  the  north-west,  the  gale 
continuing,  with  torrents  of  rain,  for  sev- 
eral hours.  Between  eight  and  nine 
o'clock,  the  wind  slackened,  the  rain 
ceased,  and  clouds  broke  away  in  the  west 
and  south.  About  noon,  the  weather  was 
clear  and  mild,  with  a  gentle  westerly 
breeze.  During  the  greater  jiart  of  the 
afternoon,  the  sun  was  obscured  with  fly- 
ing clouds  from  the  west  and  north-west. 

In  New  York,  a  violent  north-east  storm 
of  wind  and  rain  commenced  at  night,  on 


268 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  twentj'-first ;  about  two  o'clock,  the 
wind  suddenly  shifted  to  the  north  and 
north-west,  blowing  with  increased  vio- 
lence. On  the  twenty-second,  there  was  a 
gale  all  da}",  from  the  north-east  and  east, 
with  heavy  and  incessant  rain.  The  gale 
increased  in  the  evening,  continuing  until 
four  o'clock  the  next  afternoon,  though 
most  violent  at  nine  o'clock  the  same  fore- 
noon, the  wind  being  north  to  north-west. 
At  New  London,  Connecticut,  the  storm 
commenced  on  Friday,  the  twenty-second, 
a  heavy  rain  falling  during  that  day  and 
night,  the  wind  north-east.  Next  morn- 
ing, the  twenty-third,  the  wind  became 
very  violent,  and  soon  after  almost  a  hur- 
ricane. The  tide,  which  commenced  flood 
about  six  o'clock,  had,  by  ten,  risen  three 
or  four  feet  higher  than  was  ever  known 
befoi'e.  The  rise  was  so  rapid,  too,  that 
some  of  the  dwellings  were  deluged  before 
the  inhabitants  knew  of  their  danger,  and 
not  more  than  thirty  minutes  elapsed  after 
they  thus  realized  their  peril,  before  the 
waves  rose  four  to  six  feet  in  the  streets  ! 
Stores  were  soon  seen  falling  before  the 
terrible  power  of  the  tempest,  buildings 
were  unroofed,  giant  trees  fell.  But  this 
awful  scene  of  destruction  was  short. 
Soon  after  eleven  o'clock,  the  wind  shifted 
to  the  westward  and  abated ;  the  sea 
returned  with  the  velocity  it  came  in, 
though  it  should  have  run  flood  until 
twelve  ;  and  the  storm  ceased.  The  show- 
ers which  fell  over  the  city  and  neighbor- 
hood were  of  salt  water;  and  the  leaves  of 
the  tender  fruit-trees  and  shrubs  and  of 
many  forest  trees,  without  frost,  shrunk  in 
a  few  hours  after  the  gale  as  though  they 
had  been  scorched.  Brooks  and  wells  in 
the  town  and  neighborhood  became  brack- 
ish ;  and  during  the  strength  of  the  wind, 
in  the  eddies,  the  air  was  extremely  hot 
and  suffocating. 

Far  into  the  interior,  the  tempest  swept 
and  raged  with  unparalleled  fury.  Early 
on  Saturday  morning,  the  wind  became 
very  violent,  and  torrents  of  rain  descended, 
continuing  with  but  short  intermissions 
until  about  half-past  ten  in  the  forenoon  ; 
at  this  time,  the  rain  abated,  and  the  wind. 


suddenly  shifting  to  the  south-east,  blew  a 
hurricane,  the  terrible  devastation  of  which 
covered  a  cohunn  or  area  of  sixty  miles  in 
n)idth.  A  suffocating  current  of  air  as, 
from  a  hot  bath,  accompanied  the  middle 
stage  of  the  tempest.  Flocks  of  gulls, 
from  the  far-off  ocean,  were  seen  after  the 
storm  in  the  Worcester  meadows,  and,  as 
evening  approached,  they  flew  toward  the 
sea. 

Along  the  seaboard,  the  effect  of  the 
tide  upon  the  soil  and  its  productions  was 
very  marked.  Grass  was  entirely  killed. 
There  was  not  a  green  blade  to  be  seen,  in 
any  place,  over  which  the  flood  had  passed. 
In  a  few  spots,  near  running  springs,  some 
new  shoots  appeared  in  the  course  of  the 
autumn  ;  but  on  uplands,  none  grew  until 
another  season,  and  then  it  was  not  the 
same  kind  of  grass  which  grew  there 
before,  excepting  in  a  very  few  instances. 
Several  cedar-swamps  were  filled  with  sea 
water,  which,  having  no  outlet,  soaked 
into  the  ground.  The  trees  in  these 
swamps  perished  forthwith,  the  leaves 
withering  and  falling  off  in  a  very  short 
time.  In  the  trees  cut  from  these  swamps 
during  the  Avinter  following  the  storm,  the 
sap-wood  had  turned  nearly  black ;  and 
there  was  scarcely  an  instance  in  which  a 
cedar-tree  survived  the  effect  of  the  flood. 
Pine  and  oak  trees  suffered  a  similar  fate, 
excepting  a  very  few,  which  stood  near 
the  shore, — these  latter,  perhaps,  having 
grown  accustomed  to  the  influence  of  salt 
water,  and  could  better  endure  the  ordeal, 
— though  a  very  great  proportion  even  of 
these  perished  in  a  short  time.  Most  of 
the  shrubs  and  bushes,  over  which  the  tide 
passed,  perished  similarly.  It  was  ob- 
served, however,  that  one  or  two  species 
of  laurel,  and  the  common  bayberry,  were 
but  little  if  at  all  injured,  and  some  of 
the  swamp  whortleberry -bushes  survived. 
Apple  trees  were,  generall}',  on  such  high 
ground,  that  the  tide  did  not  reach  them ; 
onl}'^  a  few  were  surrounded  by  the  water, 
and  none  of  them  were  so  situated  that  the 
water  could  remain  about  them  for  any 
length  of  time.  They  were,  nevertheless, 
as  much  exposed  as  many  of  the  cedars 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


269 


wliioli  died;  but  the  apple  trees  continued 
to  live,  though  considerably  stinted  in 
their  growth.  With  these  ex(;eptions,  the 
destruction  of  vegetable  life  in  localities  of 
this  exposure,  ^vas  very  general,  if  not 
universal. 

Wherever  the  cultivated  lands  were  in 
low  places  near  the  shore,  they  were  of 
course  overflowed.  In  fields  where  Indian 
corn  was  standing,  the  roots  were,  in  most 
cases,  torn  out  of  the  ground ;  and  where 
this  did  not  take  place,  the  stalks  were 
wrenched  and  twisted,  and  the  spihes 
broken  off.  The  corn,  where  it  had  pre- 
viously grown  hard  or  ripe,  Avas  fit  for 
food,  but  where  the  grain  had  not  already 
hardened,  it  failed  to  do  so,  and  either  per- 
ished in  the  husk,  or  very  soon  after  it 
was  taken  out.  It  was  a  common  remark, 
that  no  part  of  the  plant  could  be  dried  by 
any  means,  and  therefore  by  far  the 
greater  part  of  the  harvest  was  lost,  not 
being  yet  ripe.  Potatoes,  and  other 
vegetable  roots,  if  left  in  the  ground, 
perished ;  but,  where  they  had  ripened, 
and  were  taken  up  within  a  few  da^'s 
after  the  flood,  and  well  dried,  they  Avere 
good. 


which  the  tide  water  did  not  run,  were  so 
infected  with  the  taste  and  qualities  of  sea 
water,  as  to  be  totally  unfit  for  domestic 
purposes.  The  inhabitants  were  obliged 
therefore  to  transport  this  necessary  article 
for  household  uses,  from  a  great  distance ; 
and  travelers  who  needed  it  were  glad  to 
receive  it  in  a  measure  of  the  smallest 
capacity.  In  some  wells  near  the  shore, 
the  water  formerly  rose  and  fell  with  the 
tide,  still  remaining  fresh  ;  but  the  severe 
and  i)eculiar  disci})line  of  this  flood  so 
changed  their  habit,  that  the  water  in 
them  became  of  a  fixed  height,  and  saltish. 
When  the  vast  and  tremendous  tide  was 
sweeping  over  the  land,  the  spray  arising 
from  it  was  very  great,  over  a  wide  surface 
of  country,  extending  to  the  furthermost 
of  the  interior  of  the  northern  states.  It 
is  spoken  of  as  having  resembled  a  driving 
snoiv-storm,  through  which  objects  could 
be  discerned  only  at  short  distances.  In 
the  more  northerly  regions,  it  was  observed, 
immediately  after  the  storm,  that  a  singu- 
lar effect  had  been  produced  ui)on  the 
leaves  of  the  trees  by  the  sjDray ;  their 
vitality  was  destroyed,  and  ih^j  exhibited 
an    appearance    similar     to    that    which 


HORRORS  OF  THE  WHIRLWIND  THROUGHOUT  NEW  ENGLAND. 


Fresh  water,  along  the  seaboard,  was, 
for  along  time,  a  rarity  of  price,  the  wells 
having  been  generally  overflown  and  left 
full  of  sea  water.  Watering-places  for 
cattle  suffered  a  similar  fate ;  and  so 
extensive  was  the  influence  of  the  flood, 
that  many  wells,  pools  and  streams,  into 


accompanies  frost,  except  that  they 
retained  more  of  their  original  color,  and 
in  some  instances  they  assumed  a  dark 
red  hue,  as  if  they  had  been  well  scorched. 
But  in  other  sections  along  the  shore,  the 
leaves  did  not  exhibit  this  peculiar  dis- 
coloration J  those  which  were  destroyed  by 


270 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  flood,  bore  every  mark  of  death,  but 
not  of  having  been  burnt, — neither  was 
there  any  thin  coating  of  salt  on  the  win- 
dows in  these  regions,  as  on  those  in  the 
neigliborhood  of  Boston  and  elsewhere. 

In  multitudes  of  instances,  the  saltness 
of  the  wells  and  watering-places  continued 
unabated  for  six  months,  or  until  the  first 
week  of  the  following  March.  The  winter 
had  been  severe,  and  the  ground  frozen 
very  deep  until  the  middle  of  February, 
when  there  were  several  weeks  of  moderate 
weather,  with  soft  rains,  which  dissolved 
the  snows  and  ojoened  the  ground  ;  shortly 
after  which,  it  was  discovered  that  several 
of  the  wells  and  ponds  were  fr^sh.  As 
the  water  in  these  had  been  tasted  but  a 
few  days  previously  and  was  found  still  to 
retain  its  disagreeableness,  the  freshness 
must  have  taken  place  suddenly.  After 
successive  spells  of  dry  weather,  these 
wells  grew  salt  again,  but  not  to  the  same 
degree  as  before ;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
they  would  be  fresh,  after  heavy  rains,  and 
then  become  salt  again  after  dry  weather, 
the  degree  of  saltness  diminishing  from 
time  to  time.  This  peculiarity  continued 
for  several  years,  in  some  localities,  being, 
of  course,  a  great  inconvenience  to  man 
and  beast. 

The  center  or  the  limits  of  this  great 
and  memorable  tempest,  scientific  investi- 
gators were  unable  to  determine.  It  was 
very  violent  at  places  separated  by  a  con- 
siderable interval  from  each  other;  while 
the  intermediate  region  suffered  much  less. 
Its  course  through  forests  was,  in  some 
instances,  marked  almost  as  definitely,  as 
where  the  trees  have  been  newly  cut  down 
for  a  road.  In  these  cases,  it  appears  to 
have  been  a  moving  vortex,  and  not  the 
rushing  forward  of  the  great  body  of  the 
atmosphere.  Tliere  seems  to  have  been 
no  part  of  the  coast  of  New  England  which 
escaped  its  fur}^  though  in  Vermont  and 
the  western  parts  of  New  Hampshire  its 
severity  was  much  less;  yet  still  further 
west,  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  the  gale  was  so 
great  as  to  render  it  extremely  dangerous 
to  be  upon  the  river.  And  what  is  still 
more  remarkable,  the  storm  began  to  grow 


violent  at  this  place  about  the  same  time 
that  it  commenced  near  the  Atlantic,  and 
subsided  about  the  same  time. 

As  to  the  dij-ection  of  the  wind,  at  the 
several  places  where  the  storm  prevailed, 
Professor  Farrar's  account  states,  that,  on 
the  twenty-second,  the  wind  was  pretty 
generally  from  the  north-east.  The  storm 
commenced  to  the  leeward ;  but  when  the 
wind  shifted  from  north-east  to  east  and 
south,  along  the  coast  of  New  England,  it 
veered  round  in  the  opposite  direction  at 
New  York,  and  at  an  earlier  period.  It 
reached  its  greatest  height  at  this  latter 
place  about  nine  o'clock  on  the  morning  of 
the  twenty-third,  when  it  was  from  the 
north-west ;  whereas,  at  Boston,  it  became 
most  violent  and  devastating  about  two 
hours  later,  and  blew  from  the  opposite 
quarter  of  the  heavens.  At  Montreal,  the 
direction  of  the  wind  was  the  same  as  at 
New  York,  but  did  not  attain  its  greatest 
height  so  soon  by  several  hours.  The 
barometer  descended  very  fast  during  the 
morning  of  the  twenty-third,  and,  when 
the  wind  was  highest,  had  fallen  about 
half  an  inch.  It  began  to  rise  as  the  wind 
abated,  and  recovered  its  former  elevation 
by  the  time  the  air  was  restored  to  its 
usual  tranquillity. 

According  to  the  investigations  made 
by  others,  and  the  observations  recorded 
at  the  time,  in  different  places,  the  follow- 
ing facts  are  believed  to  be  established, 
namely :  That  the  hurricane  commenced 
in  the  West  Indies,  and  moved  northward 
at  the  rate  of  twelve  or  fifteen  miles  an 
hour.  Its  course  from  St.  Barts  was  about 
west-north-west  to  Turks  Island,  and 
thence  to  Boston  —  nearly  on  the  same 
meridian — it  was  a  curve  convex  to  the 
west.  Previous  to  the  arrival  of  the  hur- 
ricane in  New  England,  a  north-east  storm 
had  prevailed  along  the  Atlantic  coast  for 
more  than  twenty-four  hours.  For  some 
hours  previous  to  the  hurricane,  there  was 
a  great  and  rapid  condensation  of  vapor, 
pi'oducing  a  heavy  fall  of  rain  in  the  line 
of  the  north-east  storm.  The  hurricane, 
or  violent  blow,  was  mostly  from  the  south- 
east, blowing  into  and  at  right  angles  to 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


271 


the  north-east  storm,  at  its  soutliern  ter- 
mination. As  the  south-east  wintl  ap- 
proached tlie  line  of  tlie  nortli-east  storm, 
it  was  deflected  into  an  east  wind.  Tlie 
general  form  of  the  hurricane,  in  and  about 
New  England,  was  that  of  an  eccentric 
ellipse,  with  its  longest  diameter  north- 
east and  south-west ;  wind  blowing  north- 
east on  the  north-west  side ;  north-north- 
west, and  west-north-west,  at  its  south 
end ;  south-east  on  its  south-east  side, 
curving  into  an  east  wind  at  its  junc- 
tion with  the  north-east  current ;  wind 
blowing  from  south  at  the  easternmost 
part  of  the  hurricane.  The  whole  body 
of  the  hurricane,  in  the  form  thus 
described,  moved  to  the  north  nearly  on 
the  meridian. 

It  is  universally  admitted,  that  there  is 
no  account  of  a  storm  or  gale  in  all  respects 
so  remarkable  in  its  phenomena  as  this,  to 
be  found  in  the  history  of  the  United 
States.  Other  hurricanes  there  have  been, 
laying  waste  whatever  came  in  their  way, 
but  they  have  been  comparatively  limited 
in  their  extent  and  destructiveness. 
Morton,  in  his  New  England  Memorial, 
gives  a  description  of  the  violent  tempest 
that  took  place  soon  after  the  first  settle- 
ment at  Plymouth.  It  began  on  the 
morning  of  August  fifteenth,  1635,  very 
suddenly,  "  blew  down  houses,  uncovered 
divers  others,  divers  vessels  were  lost  at 
sea;  it  caused  the  sea  to  swell  in  some 
places  so  that  it  arose  to  twenty  foot  right 
np  and  down,  and  made  many  Indians  to 
climb  into  trees  for  their  safety ;  blew 
down  many  huntlred  thousands  of  trees," 
etc.  The  tremendous  gales  of  1723,  1804, 
1818,  1821,  1836,  1841,  1851,  1859, 
1860,  1860,   and   some  others,   will    long 


be  remembered  in  certain  localities,  for 
tlicii-  severity  and  tlic  loss  of  life 
and  property,  on  land  and  sea,  which 
attended  them  ;  but  neither  the  memory 
of  man,  nor  the  annals  of  tlie  country, 
from  its  first  settlement  doiv?i  to  the 
present  time,  furnish  any  parallel  to 
the  pjeculiar  character  of  the  yreat  gale 
of  September,  1815.  <r\  I  T  J  ^ 

Of  the  storms  and  floods  which  occurred 
during  the  last  half  of  the  century,  those 
of  September  and  October,  1869,  were  per- 
haps the  most  memorable.  The  devasta- 
tion by  the  latter  embraced  the  whole 
country  between  the  Nova  Scotia  coast  and 
the  Mississippi,  and  from  the  north  limits 
of  the  Canadas  to  the  cotton  states.  The 
rain  fell  in  torrents  for  about  forty  consec- 
utive hours,  the  dense  clouds  descending 
in  vast  sheets,  and  a  moaning  Avind  accom- 
panying the  powerful  outpouring.  A 
stronger  storm  was  beyond  conception.  In 
some  places,  the  rain-gauge  showed  that 
four  inches  of  rain  fell  in  the  course  of 
twenty-nine  hours,  and,  during  the  suc- 
ceeding six  hours,  3.34  inches  additional, 
— the  total  fall  of  water  during  the  storm, 
over  a  vast  region  of  country,  reaching  the 
enormous  amount  of  8.05  inche?.  The 
resulting  floods  on  all  the  streams  were 
beyond  any  ever  recorded.  The  storm  was 
so  sudden  and  unexpected,  that  no  pre- 
cautions could  have  been  taken,  and  none 
were.  Railroads,  telegraph  wires,  streets, 
bridges,  dams,  manufactories,  houses,  lands, 
crops,  were  utterly  or  partially  ruined, 
over  a  wide  extent  of  country ;  and  such 
an  embargo  on  travel  was  never  known 
before.  The  pecuniary  losses  reached 
millions  of  dollars,  and  many  lives  were 
lost. 


XXIX. 

VISIT     OF    LAFAYETTE    TO    AMERICA,    AS    THE    GUEST 

OF    THE    REPUBLIC— 1824. 


His  Tour  of  Five  Thousand  Miles  Through  the  Twenty-Four  States.— A  National  Ovation  on  the 
Grandest  Scale— Cities,  States,  Legislatures  and  Governors,  Vie  in  Their  Demonstrations  of  Respect. 
—  riie  "Venerable  Patriot  Enters  the  Tomb  and  Stands  Beside  the  Remains  of  His  Great  Departed 
Friend,  Washington.  —  Noble  Qualities  of  the  Marquis.  —  A  Favorite  of  Louis  XVL  —  Hears 
of  the  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill. — Pleads  the  Cause  of  the  Americans. — Resolves  to  Join  Their 
Army  — Freely  Consecrates  His  Vast  Wealth. — Equips  a  Vessel  and  Embarks. — Introduced  to 
General  Washington — Admiration  of  Him  by  the  Chieftain. — One  of  Washington's  Military 
Family. — A  Major-General  in  His  Nineteenth  Year. — Heroic  Fidelity  During  the  War. — Subse- 
quent Vicissitudes  in  France.— America's  Heart-Felt  Sympathy.— He  Leaves  Havre  for  New  York. — 

Enthusiasm  Excit- 
ed by  His  Pres- 
ence. —  Incidents, 
Interviews,  Fetes. 
—  Greetings  with 
Old  Comrades.  — 
— Memories,  Joys, 
and  Tears.  —  De- 
parts in  the  United 
States  Ship  Lafay- 
ette. —  His  Death 
in  1834.— National 
Grief. 


THE  LANDING  OF   LAF.WETTE    AT   NEW   YORK. 


"Fortunate,  fortunate  m«n  1 
Hf  aven  saw  tit  to  urdtiin  that 
the  electric  spark  of  liberty 
phould  he  conducted. through 
l.iifayette,  tioin  the  New 
World  to  the  Old."— Ua.mll 
WjiBSIEB. 


"NVO  names  are  most  intimately  and  indissoUtbl}'  associated  with 
tlie  dramatic  train  of  military  events  which  led  to  the  establish- 
vv  ■  --/<^_j-    -       '"^^^*  <^^  ^^^^  United  States  as  a  nation  and  government,  namely, 
^^$A-f'  (^  '  ^]^Qgg  Qf  Washington  and  Lafayette.     No  two  names  are, 

down  to  tliu  present  day,  more  fresh  in  the  love  and  gratitude  of  the  American  people, 
and,  until  time  shall  he  no  more,  a  test  of  the  fidelity  with  which  that  people  hold  to 
the  principles  of  republican  wisdom  and  virtue  that  gave  them  birth,  will  be  their 
admiration  of  the  names  of  those  patriots  and  heroes.  To  understand,  therefore, 
the  significance  of  that  spontaneous  outburst  of  popular  enthusiasm  wdiich  greeted 
Lafayette  on  his  visit  to  America  in  1824,  and  which  made  that  year  one  of  the  most 


GllEAT  AND  MEMOKABLE  EVENTS. 


273 


memorable  in  the  nation's  histor}',  it  will 
only  be  necessary  to  glance  at  the  services, 
military  and  civil,  rendered  ns  by  this 
large-liearted  patriot,  during  the  opening 
years  of  our  national  existence.  Those 
services  and  that  reception  form,  indeed,  a 
national  romance. 

When  only  thirteen  years  of  age,  Lafay- 
ette w^as  left  an  orphan,  and  in  full  posses- 
sion of  valuable  estates,  and  master  of  his 
own  affairs.  Being  for  a  time  at  the  col- 
lege in  Paris,  his  associations  brought  him 
into  notice  at  the  court  of  King  Louis,  and 
he  became  quite  a  favorite  with  that  mon- 
arch. He  was  appointed  one  of  the 
queen's  pages,  and  through  her  agency 
received  a  commission  at  the  early  age  of 
fifteen.  He  formed  an  early  attachment 
to  a  daughter  of  the  noble  family  of 
Noailles,  with  whom  he  was  united  in 
marriage  at  the  age  of  sixteen.  Adopting 
the  profession  of  a  soldier,  Lafayette,  at 
nineteen,  was  stationed,  as  captain  of  dra- 
goons, at  Metz,  one  of  the  garrisoned 
towns  of  France.  Here,  in  1776,  Lafay- 
ette's attention  was  directed  to  the  conflict 
of  liberty  in  America  —  the  hostilities 
between  Britain  and  her  colonies ;  and 
while  in  conversation  with  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester,  brother  to  George  the  Third,  of 
England,  he  elicited  facts  that  led  him  to 
see  the  whole  merits  of  the  case.  The 
battle  of  Bunker  Hill  and  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  fired  his  heart !  Before 
rising  from  the  dinner-table  at  which  this 
interview  occurred,  Lafayette  had  resolved 
to  leave  his  home,  and  offer  himself  and 
his  services  to  the  rising  republic,  whose 
cause  he  regarded  as  just  and  noble.  From 
that  hour  he  could  think  of  nothing  but 
this  chivalrous  enterprise,  though  aware 
that  it  would  cut  him  off  from  the  favor 
of  that  brilliant  court-circle  in  which  he 
shone  so  conspicuously,  and  that  he  would 
also  have  to  tear  himself  away  from  his 
young,  beautiful,  and  fondly  attached 
wife,  who  alone,  among  all  his  associates, 
approved  of  his  intention. 

Proceeding  to  Paris,  he  confided  his 
scheme  to  two  young  friends.  Count  Segur 
and  Viscount  Noailles,  and  proposed  that 
18 


they  should  join  him.  They  entered  with 
enthusiasm  into  his  views,  but,  owing  to 
obstat;K's  i)ut  in  their  way  through  famil}' 
interference,  they  were  prevented  from 
following  out  their  course,  but  faithfully 
kept  their  comrade's  secret.  He  next 
explained  his  intention  to  Count  Broglie, 
who  advised  him  to  abandon  it  at  once  as 
iu  the  highest  degree  chimerical  and  haz- 
ardous. The  count  assured  him  that  his 
confidence  was  not  misplaced;  but,  said 
he— 

"1  have  seen  your  uncle  die  in  the  wars 
of  Italy,  I  witnessed  your  father's  death  at 
the  battle  of  Minden,  and  I  will  not  be 
accessory  to  the  ruin  of  the  only  remaining 
branch  of  the  family." 

But,  so  far  from  being  disheartened  by 
the  unpromising  reception  which  Lafay- 
ette's plan  met  with  from  those  to  whom 
he  made  known  his  purposes,  his  ardor 
was  rather  increased  in  the  pursuit  of  his 
object.  "  My  zeal  and  love  of  liberty," 
said  he,  "have  perhaps  been  hitherto  the 
prevailing  motives ;  but  now  I  see  a 
chance  for  usefulness,  which  I  had  not 
anticipated.  I  have  money ;  I  will  pur- 
chase a  ship,  which  shall  convey  to  Amer- 
ica myself,  my  companions,  and  the  freight 
for  congress."  All  this,  as  the  sequel  will 
show,  he  nobly  and  self-sacrificingly  car- 
ried out. 

This  design  was  now  made  known  by 
Lafayette  to  Messrs.  Franklin,  Lee,  and 
Deane,  the  American  commissioners  at 
Paris  ;  and  to  a  proposal  so  disinterested 
and  generous  they  could,  of  course,  make 
no  objection, — could  only  admire,  indeed, 
the  spirit  which  actuated  it ;  and  he  hast- 
ened immediately  to  put  it  into  execution. 
After  surmounting  the  many  difficulties 
which  from  time  to  time  interrupted  the 
progress  of  his  plans,  he  at  last  set  sail, 
the  Baron  de  Kalb  and  eleven  other  offi- 
cers of  various  ranks,  in  pursuit  of  em- 
ployment in  the  American  army,  consti- 
tuting his  retinue.  In  due  time  they 
approached  the  shore  near  Georgetown, 
South  Carolina,  having  fortunately  escaped 
two  British  cruisers,  and  soon  proceeded 
to  Charleston  harbor,  where  a  magnificent 


274 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


reception  was  given  them.  The  vessel 
was  subsequently  loaded  with  rice  for  the 
French  market,  but  it  foundered  in  going 
out  of  the  harbor,  and  both  the  vessel  and 
the  cargo  became  a  total  loss. 

But  Lafaj^ette  had  not  yet  reached  his 
destination.  As  soon,  however,  as  all 
things  were  in  readiness,  the  party  left 
Charleston  and  traveled  to  Philadelphia, 
where  congress  was  then  sitting.  On 
arriving  there,  he  put  his  letters  into  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Lovell,  chairman  of  tlie  com- 
mittee on  foreign  affairs.  He  called  the 
next  day  at  the  hall  of  congress,  and  Mr. 
Lovell  came  out  to  him  and  said,  that  so 
many  foreigners  had  offered  themselves  for 
employment,  that  congress  was  embar- 
rassed with  their  application,  and  he  was 
sorry  to  inform  him  there  was  very  little 
hope  of  his  success.  Lafayette  suspected 
that  his  papers  had  not  been  read,  and  he 


immediately  sat  down  and  wrote  a  note  to 
the  president  of  congress,  in  which  he 
desired  to  be  permitted  to  serve  in  tlie 
American  army  on  two  conditions  :  first, 
that  he  should  receive  no  pay ;  second, 
that  he  should  act  as  a  volunteer.  These 
terms  were  so  different  from  those  de- 
manded  by  other  foreigners,  and  presented 
so  few  obstacles  on  the  ground  of  any 
interference  with  American  officers,  that 
they   were   at   once   accepted.     His   ranlc, 


zeal,  perseverance,  and  disinterestedness, 
overcame  every  objection,  and  he  w'as 
appointed  a  major-general  in  the  American 
army  before  he  had  reached  the  age  of 
twenty. 

But  he  was  yet  to  stand  before  the  face 
of  the  great  American  chieftain.  Wash- 
ington was  at  head-quarters  when  Lafay- 
ette reached  Philadelj)hia,  but,  being  daily 
expected  in  the  city,  the  young  general 
concluded  to  wait  his  arrival,  instead  of 
presenting  himself  at  camp.  The  intro- 
duction of  the  youthful  stranger  to  the 
man  on  whom  his  career  depended  was, 
however,  delayed  only  a  few  days.  It 
took  place  in  a  manner  peculiarly  marked 
with  the  circumspection  of  Washington, 
at  a  dinner-part}',  where  Lafaj^ette  was 
one  among  several  guests  of  consideration. 
Washington  was  not  uninformed  of  the 
circumstances  connected  with  Lafayette's 
arrival  in  this  country  ;  and  it  may  well 
be  supposed  that  the  eye  of  the  father  of 
his  country  was  not  idle  during  the  re- 
past. But  that  searching  glance,  before 
which  pretense  or  fraud  never  stood 
undetected,  was  completely  satisfied. 
When  they  were  about  to  separate, 
Washington  took  Lafayette  aside,  spoke 
to  him  with  kindness,  complimented 
him  upon  the  noble  spirit  he  had  shown 
and  the  sacrifices  he  had  made  in  favor 
of  the  American  cause,  and  then  told 
him  that  he  should  be  pleased  if  he 
would  make  the  quarters  of  the  com- 
\  mander-in-chief  his  home,  establish  him- 
'  self  there  whenever  he  thought  proper, 
and  consider  himself  at  all  times  as  one 
of  his  family, — adding,  in  a  tone  of  pleas- 
antry, that  he  could  not  promise  him  the 
luxuries  of  a  court,  or  even  the  con- 
veniences which  his  former  habits  might 
have  rendered  essential  to  his  comfort,  but, 
since  he  had  become  an  American  soldier 
lie  would  doubtless  contrive  to  accommo- 
date liimself  to  the  customs,  manners  and 
privations  of  a  republican  arm3\  Such 
was  the  reception  given  to  Lafa3'ette,  by 
the  most  sagacious  and  observant  of  me;n ; 
and  the  personal  acquaintance,  tlius  com- 
menced, ripened  into  an  intimacy,  a  con- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


275 


fideuce,  and  an  affection  witliout  bounds, 
and  never  for  one  moment  interrupted.  If 
there  lived  a  man  whom  Washington 
loved  and  admired,  it  was  Lafayette. 

Gloriously  did  Lafayette  fulfill,  in  his 
military  career,  the  high  hopes  which 
swelled  the  hearts  of  American  patriots,  in 
the  heroic  courage  which  he  displayed  at 
Brandywine,  where  he  received  a  ball  in 
his  leg;  his  success  in  Jerse}'^,  before  he 
had  recovered  from  his  wounds,  in  a  battle 
where  he  commanded  militia  against  Brit- 
ish grenadiers;  in  the  In-illiant  retreat, 
by  which  he  eluded  a  combined  maneuver 
of  the  whole  British  force ;  by  his  great 
services  in  the  enterprise  against  Rhode 
Island,  and  his  successful  movements 
against  Cornwallis  ;  —  all  these  proofs  of 
his  patriotism  and  military  skill,  together 
with  his  warm  and  unsullied  friendship 
for  Washington,  through  all  the  varying 
fortunes  of  war,  endeared  him  forever  to 
every  American. 

After  the  fall  of  Cornwallis,  Lafaj'ette 
sailed  for  France,  but  revisited  America 
in  1784.  He  was  received  with  enthusi- 
asm wherever  he  went.  Returning  to 
France,  he  found  himself  the  object  of 
immense  popularity,  and  took  his  seat  with 
the  notables,  convoked  in  1787.  In  1789, 
he  boldly  proposed,  in  the  national  convo- 
cation, the  Declaration  of  Rights,  wliich 
he  had  brought  from  the  free  soil  of  Amer- 
ica, as  the  preliminary  of  a  constitution. 
Proclamation  of  this  world-renowned  doc- 
ument was  made  Jul};-  22,  and  it  furnished 
the  French  people  with  the  metaphysical 
reasons  for  the  "sacred  right  of  insurrec- 
tion." Meanwhile  the  Bastile  had  been 
taken,  July  14,  the  national  guard  organ- 
ized, and  Lafayette  appointed  to  the  com- 
mand. In  this  capacity  he  rode  a  white 
charger,  and  shone  the  impersonation  of 
chivalry,  and  twice  the  royal  family  owed 
their  preservation  to  his  address  and  cour- 
age. When  the  popular  enthusiasm  lulled, 
he  returned  to  his  native  fields ;  the 
national  guard,  on  his  retirement,  present- 
ing him  with  a  Imst  of  Washington,  and 
a  sword  forged  from  the  bolts  of  the  Bas- 
tile.    Subsequently,  having  denounced  the 


bloodthirsty  Jacobins,  he  was  burned  in 
effigy  by  the  sans-culottes  of  Paris,  and, 
fleeing  from  the  guillotine  which  there 
awaited  him,  he  finally  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  Austrians,  and  was  by  them  sub- 
jected to  a  long  and  cruel  imprisonment  in 
the  fortress  at  Olmutz.  His  release,  so 
earnestly  but  unsuccessfully  solicited  by 
Washington,  was  peremi)tori]y  demanded 
by  Napoleon,  and  obtained,  in  September, 
1797.  In  the  year  1818,  he  became  a 
member  of  the  chamber  of  deputies,  and, 
resuming  his  career  as  an  advocate  of  con- 
stitutional principles,  succeeded  at  last  in 
elevating  Louis  Philippe  to  the  throne  of 
France. 

By  this  time,  Lafayette  had  grown  old 
in  the  services  he  had  rendered  to  America 
and  France.  Though  his  years  were  now 
nearly  three  score  and  ten,  he  could  not 
think  of  meeting  death  until  he  had  once 
more  seen  that  land  of  liberty  across  the 
wide  Atlantic,  which  was  as  dear  to  him  as 
his  native  country.  In  its  infanc}',  and 
for  its  freedom,  he  had,  fifty  j-ears  ago, 
contributed  his  wealth  and  shed  his  blood, 
sharing  the  bosom  confidence  of  the  great 
Washington  as  did  no  other  human  being. 
That  struggling  little  republic  had  now 
become  a  giant  nation  ;  the  thirteen  states 
constituting  the  original  galaxy,  had  be- 
come almost  double  that  numbei-,  and  vast 
as  the  empires  of  antiquity  in  territory. 
Remembering  his  magnificent  services,  in 
1824  the  congress  of  the  United  States 
voted  unanimously  a  resolution  requesting 
President  Monroe  to  invite  Lafaj-ette  to 
visit  the  United  States,  as  the  nation's 
guest, — an  honor  never  before  accorded  a 
foreign  nobleman, — and  tendering  a  ship 
of  the  line  for  his  conversance.  This  invi- 
tation was  extended  to  the  great  French 
patriot  in  President  Monroe's  most  happy 
manner,  and  was  duly  accepted,  though 
the  offer  of  a  war-ship  was  declined. 

On  the  twelfth  of  July,  1824,  Lafayette, 
accompanied  by  his  son,  George  AVashing- 
ton  Lafayette,  and  his  secretary,  M.  Levas- 
seur,  sailed  from  Havre  for  America.  He 
arrived  in  New  York,  August  fifteenth, 
and  landed  on  Staten  Island.     One  of  the 


276 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


first  to  greet  him  was  Joseph  Bonaparte, 
hrother  of  the  great  Napoleon.  Joseph 
then  resided  at  Bordentown,  New  Jersey  ; 


SWORD  OF  HONOR  PRESENTED  TO  LAFAYETTE. 

he  had  alwaj'S  cherished  a  high  regard  for 
the  Marquis,  and  greatly  valued  liis 
friendship.  The  interview  between  the 
two  was  attended  with  the  warmest  emo- 
tions ;  and  whoever  has  seen  Sully's  jjor- 
trait  of  the  great  French  patriot  can  form 
some  adequate  conception  of  the  chieftain's 
magnificent  bearing  on  this  occasion. 

The  announcement  of  his  arrival  sent  a 
thrill  of  joy  to  every  American  heart  and 
home,  and  the  great  pageant  of  his  recep- 
tion commenced  in  the  city  where  he  first 
set  foot  forty  years  before.  As  the  fleet 
arrived  off  the  battery  at  New  York,  a  mili- 
tary line  composed  of  thousands  of  veter- 
ans was  formed,  and  the  i)eople,  crowding 
the  battery  and  all  the  adjacent  streets, 
swelled  the  throng  to  the  number  of  forty 
thousand.  The  patriot  was  deeply  affected 
when  he  exchanged  congratulations  with 
liis  old  companions  and  friends.  Shout 
after  shout  went  up  in  long  and  loud 
acclaim,  while  the  bands  of  music  played 
a  triumphant  welcome  to  the  hero.  His 
stay  in  the  city  was  one  unbroken  succes- 


sion of  high  honors  and  civic  laudation, 
such  as  kings  might  envy  ;  at  Albany,  he 
was  received  by  Vice-President  Tompkins. 
On  i^roceeding  to  New  England,  the  same 
enthusiasm  was  exhibited  in  every  city, 
town,  and  village.  From  the  residence  of 
Hon.  William  Eustis,  the  governor  of 
Massachusetts,  in  Roxbury,  he  was  es- 
corted by  a  large  cavalcade  and  almost  the 
entire  population,  to  Boston,  where  a 
dense  assemblage  awaited  his  appearance. 
Arriving  at  the  line,  he  was  greeted  by 
the  mayor  of  the  city  and  the  jieople, 
through  whom  he  passed  in  a  sujjerb  car- 
riage, under  deafening  cheers.  The  streets 
were  lined  with  spectators  to  the  entrance 
of  the  beautiful  common.  There,  the 
children  of  the  public  schools  formed  two 
lines,  the  girls  being  dressed  in  spotless 
white,  and  the  boys  in  white  pants  and 
blue  jackets,  and  all  wearing  appropriate 
badges.  A  little  girl  sprang  forward  from 
the  line  as  Lafayette  was  passing,  and,  at 
her  request  to  speak  to  him,  was  lifted 
into  the  carriage,  when  she  gracefully  pre- 
sented him  with  a  wreath  of  flowers,  which 
the  venerable  hero  received  with  affecting 
courtesy.  While  going  from  town  to  town, 
he  found  in  every  place  some  of  the 
descendants  of  1776,  ready  to  give  him 
the  heartiest  of  welcomes.  Thus,  when 
visiting  Marblehead,  in  Massachusetts,  the 
marquis  manifested  much  curiosity  at  so 
many  ladies  being  mingled  with  the  male 
citizens,  who  had  been  deputed  to  receive 
him.  The  spokesman  of  the  occasion, 
perceiving  the  j^leasant  surprise  of  the 
marquis  at  this  peculiar  feature,  said  to 
him — 

"  These  are  the  widows  of  those  who 
perished  in  the  revolutionary  war,  and  the 
mothers  of  children  for  whose  liberty  you, 
illustrious  sir  !  have  contended  in  the  field 
of  battle.  They  are  now  here  in  the 
places  of  their  husbands,  many  of  whom 
were  once  known  to  you." 

It  may  here  be  remarked,  that  Marble- 
head  was  the  "banner  town"  for  furnish- 
ing soldiers,  in  the  revolutionary  war, 
there  being  a  larger  proportion  to  the 
whole   number  of    inhabitants  from    that 


GREAT     AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


277 


town  than  any  other  jilace  in  the  United 
States.  Tlie  British  armed  vessels  hover- 
ing on  the  coast  destroyed  the  coasting 
and  fishing  business,  and  tlius  the  loss  of 
men  in  the  war  fell  heavily  iH)on  the  small 
seaport  towns  ;  for,  being  out  of  employ- 
ment, nearly  all  the  j'oung  and  old  men 
shouldered  their  muskets  and  joined  the 
army. 

At  Philadelphia  he  was  welcomed  with 
almost  idolizing  enthusiasm;  for  tender 
and  thrilling  indeed  were  the  associations 
Avhich  linked  together  the  history  of  the 
past  and  present  of  that  city,  in  the  person 
and  services  of  Lafa3'ette  ;  the  hospitali- 
ties of  the  state  were  appropriately  dis- 
pensed by  Governor  Shultze.  On  landing 
at  Baltimore,  he  was  conducted  to  the 
'  tent  of  Washington,'  and  the  freedom  of 
the  state  and  city  conferred  iipon  him  in 
an  address  by  Governor  Stevens.  For 
some  time  Lafaj'ette  could  not  precisely 
understand  the  com[>liment  conveyed  in 
the  selection  of  the  tent — especially  one  of 
that  construction  —  for 
such  proceedings.  It 
was  soon  made  plain, 
however,  for,  glancing 
around,  he  recognized 
s|i4..    a  portion  of  Washing- 


A-  .^ . .! 


him,  he  said,  in  a  voice  tremulous  with  emo- 
tion, "/  remember !  ^^  Proceeding  to 
Washington,  Lafayette  was  received  with 
open  arms  by  President  Monroe,  at  the 
executive  mansion.  Congress  had  just 
assembled  in  regular  session,  at  the  capitol. 
He  was  introduced  to  both  houses,  and  was 
formally  and  elegantly  addressed  by  Mr. 
Clay,  speaker  of  the  house  of  representa- 
tives, the  two  branches  unanimously  unit- 


ing 


in    their    legislative    honors    to    the 


ton's  personal  equipage 
during  the  war ;  and 
turning     to    one     near 


nation's  guest.  At  this  session  the  sum 
of  two  hundred  thousand  dollars,  together 
with  a  township,  consisting  of  twentj'- 
four  thousand  acres  of  fertile  land,  was 
voted  by  congress  to  General  Lafaj'ette,  as 
an  expression  of  the  grateful  memory  with 
which  the  people  of  America  regarded  his 
services  in  their  behalf.  A  few  of  the 
members  felt  themselves  constrained,  from 
some  doubts  respecting  its  constitution- 
ality, to  vote  against  this  appropriation. 
Lafayette,  taking  one  of  them  by  the 
hand,  said  to  him  with  considerable  feel- 
ing: 

"  I    appreciate    your  views.     If   I   had 
been  a  member,  I  should  have  voted  with 
you,  not  only  because  I  partake  of  the  sen- 
timents which  determined  your  votes,  but 
also  because  I  think  that   the  American 
nation  has  done  too  much  for  me." 
Most  characteristic  of  Lafaj-ette's 
disinterestedness    and  magnanim- 
ity was  that  remark ! 

At  this  time.   Governor  Pleas- 
ant was    chief  magistrate    of  the 
Old  Dominion,'  and  warmly  wel- 
comed    the     na- 
tion's guest.    The 
;-»?*  emotions    experi- 
enced  by   Lafay- 
ette,   as    he    once 
more  trod  the  bat- 
tle-fields   of   Vir- 
ginia,   can    of 
course  hardly  be 
described.     York- 
town,  distinguish- 
ed    for     the    surrender     of     Cornwallis, 
which   event     gave     the    finishing    blow- 
to     the     war,     presented     a     vast    field 


278 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


of  tents  at  the  reception  of  Lafayette. 
The  same  house  occupied  by  Corn w alii s,  as 
his  head-quarters  in  1781,  was  still  stand- 
ing. The  general  appearance  of  the  place 
gave  evidence  of  a  deserted  village.  The 
houses  of  yore,  Avhich  had  been  riddled 
with  balls  and  blackened  with  smoke,  still 
retained  the  marks  of  battle.  In  many 
parts  of  the  ground  were  seen  broken 
shells,  and  gun-carriages,  with  various 
implements  of  war, — some  on  rocks,  and 
others  half  buried  in  the  earth ;  every 
arrangement  having  been  made  to  give  the 
town,  on  Lafayette's  arrival,  the  appear- 
ance of  a  place  taken  and  occupied  after  a 
severe  contest  in  battle.  One  of  the  tents 
erected  on  this  occasion,  was  the  one  used 
by  Washington  at  the  time  of  the  siege, 
together  with  others  which  had  furnished 
temporary  apartments  for  weary  soldiers 
during  the  eventful  campaign.  An  arch, 
bearing  the  names  of  Lafayette,  Hamilton, 
and  Laurens,  was  erected  on  the  very  spot 
where  the  redoubt  stood  which  was  stormed 
by  Lafayette  ;  an  obelisk  was  also  erected, 
bearing  the  names  of  distinguished  French- 
men. And  on  the  same  spot  it  is  said 
that  the  orator  of  the  occasion  was  design- 
ing, at  the  close  of  his  address,  to  place  a 
blended  civic  crown  and  national  wreath 
in  honor  of  Lafayette,  who,  while  he 
acknowledged  the  unique  compliment, 
gracefully  averted  its  consummation,  and, 
taking  the  symbolic  garland  in  his  hand, 
called  for  Colonel  Fish,  the  only  survivor 
of  the  attack  upon  the  redoubt,  and 
declared  that  half  the  honor  belonged  to 
him.  Washington's  marquee  was  erected 
on  the  plain,  just  out  of  the  village.  Be- 
ing escorted  to  this  tent,  Lafayette  gave 
an  affecting  welcome  to  the  officers  of  the 
militia.  Two  old  veterans  were  there,  Avho 
had  faced  the  enemy  in  war,  and  stood  firm 
in  the  midst  of  the  roar  of  the  cannon  ; 
but  as  they  pressed  the  hand  of  Lafayette 
on  this  occasion,  the  old  heroes  Avept  and 
fainted.  Some  of  the  servants  who  were 
present  discovered  in  an  obscure  corner  of 
a  cellar  a  large  box  of  candles,  bearing 
marks  of  belonging  to  Cornwallis's  military 
stores — having    remained  undisturbed  for 


forty-three  years.  They  were  lighted  for 
the  evening,  and  notwithstanding  the 
fatigues  of  the  day,  some  of  the  old  soldiers 
remained  till  the  last  vestige  of  these  Brit- 
ish candles  had  expired  in  the  sockets. 

Taking  Camden,  South  Carolina — Gov- 
ernor Richard  J.  Manning, — in  his  tour, 
Lafayette  assisted  in  laying  the  corner- 
stone of  a  monument  erected  to  the  name 
and  memory  of  Baron  de  Kalb,  a  German 
by  birth,  who  came  over  in  the  same  vessel 
with  Lafayette,  in  1776,  and  volunteered 
his  services  in  the  American  army  for 
three  years.  He  fell  while  bravely  en- 
gaged in  the  battle  at  Camden,  pierced 
with  eleven  deadly  wounds.  It  is  said 
that  Washington,  visiting  the  baron's 
grave  many  years  after  his  death,  sighed 
as  he  looked  nj^on  it,  and  exclaimed, 
"There  lies  the  brave  De  Kalb,  the  gener- 
ous stranger,  who  came  from  a  distant 
land  to  fight  our  battles,  and  to  Avater  with 
his  blood  the  tree  of  Liberty.  Would  to 
God  he  had  lived  to  share  with  us  in  its 
fruits  ! "  At  Savannah,  Georgia,  after 
being  welcomed  by  Governor  Troup,  Lafay- 
ette united  in  the  same  service  commemor- 
ative of  Generals  Greene  and  Pulaski. 
On  the  seventeenth  of  June,  Lafayette 
witnessed  the  laying  of  the  corner-stone  of 
Bunker  Hill  monument,  at  Charlestown, 
Massachusetts  ;  he  was  the  only  surviving 
major-general  of  the  revolution  who  was 
present  at  this  ceremony.  Colonel  Francis 
K.  Huger  participated  in  the  patriotic 
services — the  man  who,  Avhen  a  lad,  walked 
with  Lafayette  over  his  father's  grounds, 
and  who,  some  thirty  years  before  this 
seventeenth  of  June,  risked  his  life  in 
attempting  to  aid  the  escape  of  Lafayette 
from  the  castle  of  Olmutz.  The  peoi)le  of 
Charlestown  not  only  welcomed  Huger, 
but  gave  him  a  seat  by  the  side  of  Lafay- 
ette, in  the  carriage  which  moved  in  the 
procession,  and  also  one  near  him  at  the 
festive  board.  Daniel  Webster  was  the 
orator  for  the  day  ;  it  was  the  fiftieth  anni- 
versary of  the  battle;  and  everything  con- 
spired to  render  the  day  memorable.  As 
the  procession  passed,  Lafayette  was  con- 
tinually hailed  with  demonstrations  of  love 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


279 


and  gratitude.  Tlio  procession  was  sev- 
eral miles  long,  and,  on  arriving  at  tlie  his- 
toric spot,  the  impressive  rite  of  laying  the 
corner-stone  was  performed  by  the  grand 
master  of  the  Freemasons,  the  president  of 


■"^fii,' 


LAFAYETTE'S  BIRTHPLACE 

the  Monument  Association,  and  General 
Lafayette,  in  the  presence  of  a  vast  con- 
covirse  of  j^eople.  The  assembly  then 
moved  to  a  spacious  amphitheatre,  where 
the  oration  was  pronounced  by  Mr.  Web- 
ster, before  as  great  a  multitude  as  was 
ever,  perhaps,  assembled  within  the  sound 
of  a  human  voice. 

There  was  one  place — Kaskaskia,  on  the 
route  of  Lafayette's  tour,  at  which,  though 
no  preparations  had  been  made  to  receive 
him,  he  paused  a  short  time ;  and  here  it 
was  that  a  most  affecting  incident  oc- 
curred. Curiosity  induced  one  of  his  com- 
panions to  go  and  look  at  an  Indian 
encampment,  a  short  distance  from  the 
town.  He  there  met  with  an  educated 
Indian  woman,  who  spoke  the  French  lan- 
guage tolerably  well,  and  Avho  expressed  a 
desire  to  see  Lafayette,  and  to  show  him  a 
relic  which  she  always  carried  with  her, 
and  which  was  "very  dear  to  her."  She 
wished  to  show  it  to  Lafayette,  as  proof  of 
the  veneration  with  which  his  name  was 
regarded  among  their  tribes.  It  was  a 
letter  written  by  Lafayette  in  1778,  and 
addressed    to    her    father,    Panisciowa,  a 


chief  of  one  of  the  six  nations.    This  letter 

expressed  the  hearty  thanks  of  Lafayette 

for  the  faithful  services  of  that  chief  in  the 

American  cause.     The  name  of  this  only 

child  of  the  old  chief  was  Mary,  who,  at 

the  decease   of  her    mother,  was 

'^k.'  1^-.      placed    under    the    care    of    an 
'^  '1 . ' 
^?'A/ .'•'^'f-.-.iiV  t^Wu    American    agent,  by  whom    she 

^%-'>IiT'':'^5s»^^;^fe^  was  instructed  and  kindly  treat- 
%iSi{"-'^J^l^'^v^'>^y  ed.  She  became  a  Christian.  As 
^^  ^i  msc-i  .  ■'.,?.".--,.  -iJi    j^ii^.  ^^.j^j^  walking  out  in  the  foi'- 

est,      about      five 
years      after,     an 
Indian   Avarrior 
overtook  her  and 
informed  her  that 
her  father  was  d}'- 
ing,    and    wished 
to  see  her.      She 
soon    started    off, 
traveled  all  night, 
and  in  the  morn- 
reached    his 
hut,     which     was 
situated  in  a  narrow  valley.    As  she  came  to 
his  bedside,  he  took  from  his  jiouch  a  paper 
wrapped  in  a  dry  skin,  and  gave  it  to  her, 
with  a  charge  to  preserve  it  as  a  precious 
gift,  sa3ing :   "It  is  a  powerful  charm  to 
interest  the  pale-faces   in   your   favor.     I 
received  it  from  a  great  French   warrior, 
whom  the  English  dreaded  as  much  as  the 
Americans  loved  him,   and  with  whom   I 
fought  in  my  youth."     The  chief  died  the 
next  day.     Mary   returned   to   her   white 
friends,  and  soon  after  married  the  young 
warrior,  who  was  her  father's  friend  and 
companion.       She    had    the    j^leasure    of 
showing  the  letter  to  Lafa3^ette,  who  rec- 
ognized it,  and  listened  with  great  respect 
and  deep  feeling  to  her  touching  story. 

Another  most  interesting  episode  was  that 
which  transpired  at  Lafayette's  reception 
in  Nashville,  Tenn.,  Governor  Carroll  pre- 
siding at  the  state  ceremonies.  There  had 
come  from  different  parts  of  the  country 
about  forty  officers  and  soldiers  of  the  rev- 
olution. Among  the  number  was  an  aged 
man  who  had  traveled  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles.  His  name  was  Haguy,  a 
German,   and  he    was   one    of  those   who 


280 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


embarked  in  the  same  vessel  with  Lafay- 
ette for  this  country,  nearly  fifty  years 
back,  and  served  under  him  during  the 
whole  war.  The  old  veteran,  clasping 
Lafayette's  hand  with  affectionate 
warmth,  the  tears  rolling  down  his 
cheeks,  said : 

"I  have  come  many  miles  to  see  the 
'  young  general.'  I  have  had  two  happy 
days  in  my  life — one,  when  I  landed  with 
you  on  the  American  coast,  nearly  fifty 
years  ago,  and  to-day  when  I  see  your  face 
again.  I  have  lived  long  enough."  The 
sensation  produced  by  this  scene,  in  that 
great  throng,  was  for  a  time  completely 
overpowering. 

Not  less  interesting  was  the  interview, 
at  Buffalo,  between  Lafayette  and  'Red 
Jacket,'  the  old  chief  of  the  Seneca  tribe 
of  Indians.  They  had  both  met  in  council 
at  Fort  Schuyler,  in  1784.  Red  Jacket, 
in  conversation  with  General  Lafa^^ette, 
made  some  allusions  to  that  famous  coun- 
cil, and  to  those  who  participated  in  its 
proceedings,  when  Lafayette  inquired  with 
some  curiosity — 

"Where  is  the  young  warrior,  I  wonder, 
who  opposed  the  burying  of  the  toma- 
hawk ?  " 

'*  He  is  here  before  you,"  instantly  re- 
plied the  aged  chief. 

"  Ah,  I  see,"  replied  the  general,  "  time 
has  changed  us.  We  were  once  young 
and  active." 

"  But,"  said  the  chief,  "  time  has  made 
less  change  on  you  than  on  me." 

Saying  this  he  uncovered  his  head,  and 
exhibited  his  entire  baldness.  The  gen- 
eral wore  a  wig,  and,  not  wisliing  to 
deceive  Red  Jacket,  took  it  from  his  head, 
to  tlie  no  small  amusement  of  tlie  aston- 
ished Indian. 

A  visit  to  the  tomb  of  Washington  was 
one  of  tlie  most  notable  events  in  Lafay- 
ette's tour.  His  arrival  there  was  an- 
nounced by  the  firing  of  cannon,  which 
brought  to  his  memory  the  din  of  war, — 
the  scenes  of  the  revolution, —  when  he, 
with  the  great  but  now  lifeless  chieftain, 
were  side  by  side  in  battle.  Standing  for 
awhile  upon  the  consecrated  ground  and 


amidst  the  solemn  stillness  of  the  place, 
he  descended  alone  into  the  tomb  with  his 
head  uncovered.  There  he  remained  in 
solitary  contemplation  for  some  time — the 
living  aged  veteran  communing  with  the 
illustrious  dead.  He  returned  M'itli  his 
face  bathed  in  tears,  and,  taking  his  son 
and  Levasseur,  the  secretary,  by  the  liand, 
led  them  into  the  tomb.  He  could  not 
speak,  but  pointed  mutely  to  the  coffin  of 
Washington.  Thej'^  knelt  reverently  by 
it,  kissed  it,  and,  rising,  threw  themselves 
into  the  arms  of  Lafa3ette,  and  for  a  few 
moments  Avept  in  silence.  Lafayette  was 
now  presented,  by  the  hand  of  Mr.  Custis, 
one  of  the  surviving  family  connections  of 
Washington,  with  a  massive  finger-ring 
containing  a  portion  of  the  hair  of  his 
departed  friend.  He  was  also  the  recipi- 
ent of  some  other  personal  memorials  of 
the  "Father  of  his  Country." 

During  this  tour  Lafayette  visited  every 
one  of  the  twenty-four  states  of  the  Union, 
and  traveled  over  five  thousand  miles.  In 
nearly  every  region  which  he  visited, 
towns  or  counties,  and  literary,  scientific 
or  civic  associations,  named  in  honor  of 
him,  still  preserve  his  memory.  Indeed, 
one  of  the  foremost  of  the  great  colleges  of 
the  Middle  states  dates  from  the  same 
period.  At  Easton,  in  Pennsylvania, 
the  citizens  convened  on  the  27th  of 
December,  1824,  and  resolved  to  estab- 
lish Lafayette  College,  an  eminent 
institution  of  learning,  in  memory  of 
and  "as  a  testimony  of  respect  for  the 
talents,  virtues  and  signal  sevices,  of 
General  Lafayette,  in  the  great  cause  of 
Freedom." 

When  the  time  which  he  had  allotted 
for  his  tour  had  expired,  Lafayette  re- 
paired to  Washington,  to  pay  his  parting 
respects  to  the  chief  magistrate  of  the 
nation,  John  Quincy  Adams,  who  had  suc- 
ceeded President  Monroe.  This  took 
j)lace  at  the  presidential  mansion,  on  the 
sixth  of  September,  1825.  The  farewell 
address  from  the  president,  in  behalf  of 
the  whole  American  jieople,  was  a  most 
affecting  tribute  to  the  lofty  character  and 
patriotic  services  of  Lafayette,  during  his 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


281 


long  and  eventful  career,  and  closed  with 
the  following  words  : 

*'  You  are  ours  by  that  unshaken  senti- 
ment of  gratitude  for  your  services  which 
is  a  precious  portion  of  our  inheritance  ; 
ours  by  that  tie  of  love,  stronger  than 
death,  which  has  linked  your  name  for  the 
endless  ages  of  time  with  the  name  of 
Washington.     At  the  painful  moment  of 


called  to  sorrow  —  most  of  all,  that  we 
shall  see  your  face  no  more,  —  for  we 
shall  indulge  the  pleasing  anticipation 
of  beholding  our  friend  again.  In  the 
name  of  the  whole  peoi)le  of  the  United 
States,  I  bid  you  a  reluctant  and  affec- 
tionate farew^ell." 

To  this  parting  address  from  the  lips  of 
the  nation's  distinguished  chief  magistrate, 
Lafayette  replied  in  a  strain  of  patriotic 
and  impassioned  eloquence  never  to  be 


same 


-('>Ia.<< '^Cisc-.v  ..^^.    ^OJ       LAFAYETTE'S  TOMB. 


parting  with  you 
we    take    comfort 

^;f:S'*      -.     ■<■  jj^  ^Ijq  thought 

that,  wherever  you  may  be,  to  the  last  pul- 
sation of  your  heart,  our  country  will  ever 
be  present  to  your  affections  ;  and  a  cheer- 
ing consolation  assures  us  that  we  are  not 


he  embarked  for 
Brandy  wine,  a  new 
frigate,  named 
thus  in  comiili- 
ment  to  Lafay- 
ette, who,  on  the 
banks  of  that  riv- 
er, was  wounded 
in  his  first  battle 
for  American 
freedom.  In  the 
whole  range  of 
history,  ancient 
or  modern,  there 
is  no  instance  of 
similar  honors  being  paid  to  any  hero,  by 
the  united  and  spontaneous  will  of  a  great 
people ;  and  when,  nine  years  after,  he  paid 
the  debt  of  nature,  that  same  great  people 
gave  vent  to  universal  grief,  and  every 
tongue  spoke  words  of  eulogy  to  the  mem- 
ory of  America's  most  illustrious  friend. 


XXX. 

DUEL  BETWEEN  HENRY  CLAY,  SECRETARY  OF  STATE, 
AND   JOHN   RANDOLPH,  UNITED    STATES   SENA- 
TOR FROM  VIRGINIA.— 1826. 


Kandolph's  Bitter  Insult  to  Clay  on  the  Floor  of  the  Senate. — Accuses  Him  of  Falsifying  an  Official 
Document. — The  Puritan  and  "Blackleg"  Taunt. — Clay  Challenges  the  Senator  to  Mortal  Com- 
bat.— Words  and  Acts  of  these  Two  Foremost  Men  of  their  Times,  on  the  "  Field  of  Honor." — 
Eesult  of  the  Hostile  Meeting. — Fame  of  tiiese  Party  Leaders. — Ancient  Political  Antagonists  — 
Origin  of  the  Present  Dispute. — Randolph's  Gift  of  Sarcasm. — Applies  it  Severely  to  Clay. — Clay 
Demands  Satisfaction. — Reconciliation  Refused. — Biadensburg  tiie  Duehng-Ground. — Pistols  the 
Weapons  Ciiosen. — Colonel  Benton  a  Mutual  Friend. —  Incidents  the  Night  Before. — Randolph's 
Secret  Resolve. — Going  to  the  Field  of  Blood. — View  of  this  Slirine  of  "  Chivalry." — Salutations  of 
the  Combatants. — Solemn  Interest  of  the  Scene. — Distance  Ten  Paces. — A  Harmless  Exchange  of 
Shots.— Clay  Calls  it  "Child's  Play  !  "—Another  Fire.— No  Injury.— "  Honor  "  Satisfied.— Pleasant 
Talk  with  Each  Other. 


"  1  would  Dot  have  seen  him  fall  mortally,  o»  even  doubtfully,  wounded,  for  all  the  land  that  ia  watered  by  the  King  of  Floods  and  all 
his  tributary  etreams."— Randolph   to  Benton. 

"  I  trust  in  God,  my  dear  sir,  you  are  untouched  ;  after  what  has  occurred,!  would  not  have  harmed  you  for  a  thousand  world!."— 
Clay  to  Ranuolpb. 


T  would  be  needless,  at  this  point  of  time,  to  recount 
the  circumstances  of  that  long  and  bitter  antago- 
nism which  characterized  the  relations,  in  political 
life,  between  the  renowned  and  eccentric  John 
Randolph  and  the  equally  famous  and  brilliant 
Henry  Clay.  This  antagonism,  after  the  accession 
to  the  department  of  state  by  Mr.  Clay,  under  the 
presidency  of  John  Quincy  Adams,  acquired  addi- 
tional violence,  and  finally  led  to  a  hostile  encoun- 
ter, under  the  following  circumstances :  The  presi- 
PRELiMixARiEs  OF  THE "  CODE  OF  HONOR."  dcut  had  seut  in  a  message  to  the  senate,  on  the 
subject  of  the  Panaina  mission.  A  motion  was  made  in  the  senate  for  a  call  ujion  the 
president  for  further  information.  In  response  to  this  the  president  answered  bj^  a 
message,  with  the  tone  of  which  Randolph  was  greatly  displeased,  and,  in  his  place  in 
the  senate,  bitterly  denounced  it  and  its  authors,  President  Adams  and  his  secretary, 
Mr.  Clay,  Alluding  to  one  passage  in  particular,  in  the  president's  message,  Randolph 
was  reported  as  saying:  "Here  I  plant  my  foot ;  here  I  fling  defiance  right  into  his 
teeth  ;  here  I  throw  the  gauntlet  to  him,  and  the  bravest  of  his  compeers,  to  come 
forward  and  defend  these  lines."     And  he  concluded  his  speech   with   the    sentence  : 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


283 


"I  was  defeated,  horse,  foot,  and  dragoons 
— cut  up,  clean  broke  down  by  the  coali- 
tion of  Blilil  and  Black  George — by  the 
combination  unheard  of  till  then,  of  tlie 
Puritan  ivlth  the  lilacldeij^  But,  what 
was  most  pointed,  jierhaps,  than  anything 
else,  in  this  assault  upon  Mr.  Clay's  honor, 
was  Randolph's  statement,  "  that  a  letter 
from  General  Salazar,  the  Mexican  min- 
ister at  Washington,  submitted  by  tlie 
executive  to  the  senate,  bore  the  ear-mark 
of  having  been  manufactured  or  forged  bj' 
the  secretary  of  state." 

Mr.  Clay  smarted  under  the  stigma  of 
these  charges.  He  demanded  explana- 
tions. These  being  refused.  Clay  at  once 
sent  a  challenge,  which  Randolph  accepted. 
The  seconds,  however,  chosen  by  the  dis- 
tinguished principals,  determined  to  at- 
tempt an  accommodation,  or  a  peaceable 
termination  of  the  difficult3^  But  Ran- 
dolph, though  modifying  the  unrevised 
and  somewhat  inaccurate  report  of  liis 
speech  which  had  gone  forth,  refused  to 
explain,  out  of  the  senate,  the  words  he 
had  used  within  it.  Clay  was  peremptory 
with  Randolph,  on  the  point  of  honor,  as 
he  had  also  been  with  Humphrey  Mar- 
shall, in  1808,  whom  the  brilliant  Ken- 
tuckian  challenged  and  fought.  Though 
bad  enough,  both  personally  and  politically, 
these  duels  of  the  great  Kentuckian  will 
at  least  compare  favorably  with  the  later 
duel  between  Graves  of  Kentucky,  and 
Cilley  of  Maine,  in  which  Webb,  the  New 
York  journalist,  bore  so  prominent  a  part. 

It  being  certain  that  there  was  no  liope 
of  reconciliation,  the  seconds  proceeded  to 
arrange  for  the  duel.  The  afternoon  of 
Saturday,  April  eighth,  1826,  was  fixed 
upon  for  the  time, — the  right  bank  of  the 
Potomac,  within  the  state  of  Virginia, 
above  the  Little  Falls  bridge,  was  the 
place, — pistols  the  weapons,  distance  ten 
paces, — each  party  to  be  attended  by  two 
seconds  and  a  surgeon,  and  Senator  Ben- 
ton to  be  present  as  a  mutual  friend. 
There  was  to  be  no  practicing  with  pistols, 
and  there  was  none;  and  the  words,  '  One, 
two,  three, — stop,'  after  the  word  '  Eire,' 
wer^,  by  agreement  between  the  seconds 


and  for  the  humane  purpose  of  reducing 
the  result  as  near  as  possible  to  chance,  to 
lie  given  out  in  quick  succession.  The 
Virginia  side  of  the  Potomac  was  taken, 
according  to  Mr.  Benton's  account  of  the 
duel,  at  the  instance  of  Mr.  Randolph. 
He  went  out  as  a  Virginia  senator,  refus- 
ing to  compromise  that  character,  and,  if 
he  fell  in  defense  of  what  he  deemed  to 
be  its  rights,  Virginia  soil  was  to  liim  the 
chosen  ground  to  receive  his  blood.  There 
was  a  statute  of  the  state  against  dueling 
within  her  limits  ;  but  as  he  merely  went 
out  to  receive  a  fire  without  returning  it 
he  deemed  that  no  lighting,  and  conse- 
quently no  breach  of  her  statute. 

The  week's  delay,  which  the  seconds 
had  contrived,  was  about  exjiiring.  It  was 
Friday  night,  when  Mr  Benton  Avent  to 
see  Mr.  Clay  for  the  last  time  before  the 
duel.  There  had  been  some  alienation 
between  the  two  since  the  time  of  the 
presidential  election  in  the  house  of  repre- 
sentatives, and  the  senator  desired  to  show 
Mr.  Clay  that  there  was  nothing  personal 
in  it.  The  family  (says  Mr.  Benton)  were 
in  the  parlor, —  company  present, —  and 
some  of  it  staid  late.  The  youngest  child 
went  to  sleep  on  the  sofa, — a  circumstance 
which  availed  me  for  the  next  day.  Mrs. 
Clay  was,  as  always  after  the  death  of  her 
daughters,  the  picture  of  desolation,  but 
calm,  conversable,  and  without  the  slight- 
est apparent  consciousness  of  the  impend- 
ing event.  When  all  Avere  gone,  and  she 
also  had  left  the  parlor,  I  did  what  I  came 
for,  and  said  to  Mr.  Clay  that,  notwith- 
standing our  late  political  differences,  my 
personal  feelings  were  the  same  towards 
him  as  formerly,  and  that,  in  whatever 
concerned  his  life  or  honor,  my  best  wishes 
were  with  him.  He  expressed  his  gratifi- 
cation at  the  visit  and  the  declaration,  and 
said  it  was  what  he  would  have  expected 
of  me.     We  parted  at  midnight. 

Mr.  Benton's  account  continues  as  fol- 
lows :  Saturday,  the  8th  of  April,  1826, 
— the  day  for  the  duel, — had  come,  and 
almost  the  hour.  It  Avas  noon,  and  the 
meeting  was  to  take  place  at  half-past  four 
o'clock.     I  had  gone  to  see  ]Mi'.  Randolph 


284 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


before  the  hour,  and  for  a  purpose.  I  had 
heard  nothing  from  him  on  the  point  of 
not  returning  the  fire,  since  the  first  com- 
munication to  that  effect,  eight  days  be- 
fore. I  had  no  reason  to  doubt  the  steadi- 
ness of  his  determination ;  but  felt  a 
desire  to  have  some  fresh  assurance  of  it 
after  so  many  days'  delay,  and  so  near 
approach  of  the  trying  moment.  I  knew 
it  would  not  do  to  ask  him  the  question, — 
any  question  that  would  imply  a  doubt  of 
his  word.  So  I  fell  upon  a  scheme  to  get 
at  the  inquiry  without  seeming  to  make 
it.  I  told  him  of  my  visit  to  Mrs.  Clay 
the  night  before, — of  the  late  sitting, — the 
child  asleep, — the  unconscious  tranquillity 


/]      uLr. 


'1 


of  Mrs.  Clay ;  and  added,  I  could  not  help 
reflecting  how  different  all  that  might  be 
the  next  night.  He  understood  me  per- 
fectly, and  immediately  said,  with  a 
quietude  of  look  and  expression  which 
seemed  to  rebuke  an  unworthy  doubt, — 

"  I  shall  do  nothing  to  disturb  the  sleep 
of  the  child  or  the  repose  of  the  mother.^'' 

Mr.  Randolph  at  the  same  time  went 
on   with   his    employment  —  his    seconds 


being  engaged  in  their  preparations  in  a 
different  room, — which  was,  making  codi- 
cils to  his  will,  all  in  the  way  of  remem- 
brance to  friends  ;  the  bequests  slight  in 
value,  but  invaluable  in  tenderness  of 
feeling  and  beauty  of  expression,  and 
always  appropriate  to  the  receiver.  To 
Mr.  Macon,  he  gave  some  English  shil- 
lings, to  keep  the  game  Avhen  he  pla3'ed 
whist.  His  namesake,  John  Randolph 
Bryan,  then  at  school  in  Baltimore,  and 
afterwards  married  to  his  niece,  was  sent 
for  to  see  him,  but  sent  off  before  the  hour 
for  going  out,  to  save  the  boy  from  a  pos- 
sible shock  of  seeing  him  brought  back. 
He  Avanted  some  gold, — that  coin  not 
being  then  in  circidation,  and  only  to  be 
obtained  by  favor  or  purchase, — and  sent 
his  faithful  man,  Johnny,  to  the  United 
States  Branch  Bank,  to  get  a  few  pieces, — 
American  being  the  kind  asked  for. 
Johnny  returned  without  the  gold,  and 
delivered  the  excuse  that  the  bank  had 
none.  Instantly  his  clear  silver-toned 
voice  was  heard  above  its  natural  pitch, 
exclaiming :  ''  Their  name  is  legion  !  and 
they  are  liars  from  the  beginning.  Johnny, 
bring  me  my  horse."  His  own  saddle- 
horse  was  brought  him,  for  he  never  rode 
Johnny's,  nor  Johnny  his,  though  both, 
and  all  his  hundred  horses,  were  of  the 
finest  English  blood ;  and  he  rode  off  to 
the  bank,  down  Pennsylvania  avenue, 
Johnny  following,  as  alwa^^s,  forty  paces 
behind.  Arrived  at  the  bank,  the  follow- 
ing scene  transpired.  Mr.  Randoljih  asked 
for  the  state  of  his  account,  was  shown  it, 
and  found  it  to  be  some  four  thousand  dol- 
lars in  his  favor.  He  asked  for  it.  The 
teller  took  up  packages  of  bills,  and  civilly 
asked  in  what  sized  notes  he  would  have 
it.  "  I  want  money"  said  Mr.  Randolph, 
putting  emphasis  on  the  word  ;  and  at  that 
time  it  required  a  bold  man  to  intimate 
that  United  States  Baidv  notes  were  not 
money.  The  teller,  beginning  to  under- 
stand him,  and  willing  to  make  sure,  said, 
inquiringly  : 

"You  want  silver?"  ^ 

"  I  want  my  money"  was  the  reply. 
"Have   you   a   cart,   Mr.  Randolph,  to 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


285 


put  it  in  ?  "  said  the  teller,  politely,  lifting 
boxes  to  the  counter. 

"  That  is  my  business,  sir,"  answered 
Randolph. 

By  this  time,  the  attention  of  the  cashier 
was  attracted  to  what  was  going  on,  who 
came  up,  and,  understanding  the  question 
and  its  cause,  told  Mr.  Randolph  there 
■was  a  mistake  in  the  answer  given  to  his 
servant ;  that  they  had  gold,  and  he  should 
have  what  he  wanted.  In  fact,  he  had 
only  applied  for  a  few  pieces,  which  he 
wanted  for  a  special  purpose.  This  brought 
about  a  compromise.  The  pieces  of  gold 
were  received,  —  the  cart  and  the  silver 
dispensed  with. 

On  returning,  Randolph  handed  a  sealed 
paper  to  Mr.  Benton,  which  the  latter  \vas 
to  open  in  case  Randolj^h  was  killed, — 
give  back  to  him  if  he  was  not ;  also 
an  open  slip,  which  that  senator  was  to 
read  before  he  got  to  the  ground.  This 
slip  was  a  request  to  feel  in  his  left 
breeches'  pocket,  if  he  w-as  killed,  and  find 
so  man}^  pieces  of  gold, — Mr.  Benton  to 
take  three  for  himself,  and  give  the  same 
number  to  Tatnall  and  Hamilton  each,  to 
make  seals  to  wear  in  remembrance  of  him. 
He  also  remembered  his  friend  Macon. 
They  were  all  three  at  Mr.  Randolph's 
lodgings,  then,  and  soon  set  out, — Mr. 
Randolph  and  his  seconds  in  a  carriage, 
and  Mr.  Benton  following  him  on  horse- 
back. 

As  has  already  been  stated,  the  count 
was  to  be  quick  after  giving  the  word  '  Fire,' 
and  for  a  reason  which  could  not  be  told 
to  the  principals.  To  Mr.  Randolph,  who 
did  not  mean  to  fire,  and  who,  though 
asrreeiner  to  be  shot  at,  had  no  desire  to  be 
hit,  this  rapidity  of  counting  out  the  time, 
and  quick  arrival  of  the  command  '  Stop,' 
presented  no  objection.  With  Mr.  Clay 
it  was  different.  "With  him  it  was  all  a 
real  transaction,  and  gave  rise  to  some 
proposal  for  more  deliberateness  in  count- 
ing off  the  time,  which  being  communicated 
to  Colonel  Tatnall,  (Randolph's  friend,) 
and  by  him  to  Mr.  Randolph,  had  an  ill 
effect  upon  his  feelings,  and,  aided  by  an 
untoward  accident   on  the  ground,  unset- 


tled for  a  moment  the  noble  determination 
which  he  had  formed  not  to  lire  at  Mr. 
Clay.  General  Jesup  (Clay's  friend,) 
states,  that,  when  he  repeated  to  Mr.  Clay 
the  'word'  in  the  manner  in  which  it 
would  be  given,  Mr.  Clay  expressed  some 
apprehension  that,  as  he  was  not  accus- 
tomed to  the  use  of  the  i)istol,  he  might 
not  be  able  to  fire  within  the  time,  and 
for  that  reason  alone  desired  that  it  might 
be  prolonged.  This  desire  of  Mr.  Clay 
was  mentioned,  on  his  behalf,  to  Colonel 
Tatnall,  who  replied,  "If  you  insist  upon 
it,  the  time  must  be  prolonged,  but  I  should 
very  much  regret  it."  The  original  agree- 
ment was  carried  out.  Mr.  Benton,  how- 
ever, states  that  he  himself  knew  nothing 
of  all  this,  until  it  was  too  late  to  speak 
Avith  the  seconds  or  principals,  he  having 
crossed  the  Little  Falls  bridge  just  after 
them,  and  come  to  the  place  where  the  serv- 
ants and  carriages  had  stopped.  He  saw 
none  of  the  gentlemen,  and  supposed  they 
had  all  gone  to  the  spot  where  the  ground 
was  being  marked  off ;  but  on  speaking  to 
Johnny,  Mr.  Randolph,  who  was  still  in 
his  carriage,  and  heard  the  voice,  looked 
out  from  the  window  and  said  to  Colonel 
Benton — 

"  Colonel,  since  I  saw  you,  and  since  I 
have  been  in  this  carriage,  I  have  heard 
something  which  viai/  make  me  change 
my  determination.  Colonel  Hamilton  will 
give  you  a  note  which  will  explain  it." 

Colonel  Hamilton  was  then  in  the  car- 
riage, and  in  the  course  of  the  evening 
gave  to  Colonel  Benton  the  note,  of  which 
Mr.  Randolph  spoke.  Colonel  Benton 
readily  conijn-ehended  that  this  possible 
change  of  determination  related  to  Ran- 
dolph's firing ;  but  the  emphasis  with 
which  he  j^ronounced  the  word  '  hk^i!/,' 
clearly  showed  that  his  mind  was  unde- 
cided, and  left  it  doubtful  whether  he 
would  lire  or  not.  No  further  conversa- 
tion, however,  took  place  between  them — 
the  preparations  for  the  duel  were  finished 
— the  parties  went  to  their  places. 

The  place  was  a  thick  forest,  and  the 
immediate  spot  a  little  depression,  or 
basin,   in  which  the  parties  stood.      Not 


286 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


far  west  of  Bladensburg,  just  beyond  the 
line  which  separates  the  federal  city  from 
the  state  of  Maryland,  a  short  distance  off 
the  road  from  Washington,  is  this  dueling- 
ground, — a  dingle,-  embosomed  in  a  sun- 
burnt amphitheatre  of  trees,  secluded,  and 
from  associations,  no  less  than  location,  a 
dismal  shrine,  consecrated  to  human  sacri- 
fices. On  this  spot,  not  long  before  the 
battle  of  Bladensburg  in  the  second  war 
with  England,  a  United  States  secretary 
of  the  treasury  shot  his  antagonist,  Mr. 
Gardenier,  through  the  bod}',  both  mem- 
bers of  congress,  in  a  party  duel.  Deca- 
tur, surrounded  by  brother  naval  officers, 
fell  there.  A  senatorof  the  United  States 
lost  his  life  there,  horribly  fighting  with 
muskets  at  pistol  distance.  Other  vic- 
tims to  the  vanity  of  honor,  so  called,  have 
lost  or  staked  their  lives  on  this  field  of 
blood. 

But  never  before,  on  that  fatal  field, 
was  any  scene  enacted,  comparable  with 
that  which  was  to  witness  a  mortal  con- 
test between  Henry  Clay  and  John  Ran- 
dolph. Not  too  highly  has  the  graphic 
delineator  of  these  dramatis personce  (Mr. 
Baldwin,  in  his  "Party  Leaders,")  drawn 
the  picture,  in  saying  that  tJiere  stood  on 
the  banks  of  the  Potomac,  on  that  hriglit 
April  evening,  as  the  sun  luas  declining 
behind  the  high  hills  of  Virginia,  in  the 
attitude  of  combatants,  two  men,  around 
whom  gathered,  probably,  a  more  stirring 
interest,  than  around  any  other  two  men 
in  the  Union.  And  yet,  their  political 
opinions  and  personal  history  were  as 
opposite  as  their  persons,  when  they  stood 
in  their  places.  Against  any  and  all 
insinuations  of  corruption,  Mr.  Clay  might 
safely  have  left  his  reputation  with  the 
people.  His  splendid  services  as  peace 
commissioner  to  Europe,  with  such  col- 
leagues as  Bayard,  Galhitin,  Russell  and 
Adams  ;  his  long  period  of  statesman-like 
service  in  the  house  of  representatives, 
succeeding  ro])eatedly  to  the  chair  that 
had  been  dignified  by  Muhlenberg,  Trum- 
bull, Dayton,  Varnum,  Cheves,  and  Bar- 
bour,— this  his  recofd  should  have  suf- 
ficed for  his  honor. 


The  two  were  alike  only  in  chivalry  of 
bearing,  integrity  and  independence  of 
character,  genius  and  pride.  They  had 
to  all  appearance  met  now  to  fight  to  the 
death  with  physical  weapons,  as  they  had 
met  so  often  before,  to  do  battle  with  the 
weapons  of  intellectual  warfare.  Their 
opposition  had  been  unceasing.  Each 
looked  upon  the  other  as,  if  not  the  ablest, 
at  least  as  the  most  annoying  and  dreaded 
opponent  of  his  political  principles  and 
personal  aims.  They  were,  in  early  life, 
and  to  some  extent,  still,  representatives 


of  different  phases  of  American  society. 
Randolph,  born  to  affluence ;  descended 
from  a  long  and  honored  line  ;  accustomed 
always  to  wealth,  family  influence,  and  the 
joride  of  aristocracy  and  official  position. 
Clay,  on  the  other  hand,  born  in  obscurity, 
of  humble  parentage — the  first  man  of  his 
family  known  out  of  his  county — "  the 
mill-boy  of  the  Slashes;"  but  winning 
his  way  and  rising  rajDidly,  by  his  boldness 
and  talents,  to  the  very  summit  of  public 
station  and  influence,  so  as  to  be  styled 
the  ''  Great  Commoner  ;  " — these  were  the 
two  men,  alike  in  splendid  gifts  of  intel- 
lect, yet  so  unlike  in  character  and  circun)- 
stance,  who  now,  weapon  in  hand,  stood 
opposed  in  deadly  conflict. 

As   they   took   their  stands,  the  princi- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


287 


pals  saluted  each  other  courteously,  accord- 
ing to  the  usage  of  the  'code.'  Colonel 
Tatnall  had  won  the  choice  of  position, 
which  gave  to  General  Jesup  the  deliver}' 
of  the  word.  They  stood  on  a  line  east 
and  west;  tlierc;  was  ;i  small  stump  just 
behind  Mr.  Chiy,  ami  a  low  gravelly  hank 
rose  just  behind  Mr.  Randolph.  The 
latter  asked  General  Jesup  to  repeat  the 
word  as  he  would  give  it ;  and  while  in 
the  act  of  doing  so,  and  Mr.  Randolph 
adjusting  the  butt  of  his  pistol  to  his 
hand,  the  muzzle  pointing  downwards,  and 
almost  to  the  ground,  it  fired.  Instantly 
Mr.  Randolph  turned  to  Colonel  Tatnall, 
and  said,  "  I  protested  against  that  hair 
trigger." 

Colonel  Tatnall  took  blame  to  himself 
for  having  sprung  the  hair.  Mr.  Clay 
had  not  then  received  his  pistol.  Mr. 
Johnson,  one  of  his  seconds,  was  carrying 
it  to  him,  and  still  several  steps  from  him. 
This  untimely  fire,  though  clearly  an  acci- 
dent, necessarily  gave  rise  to  some  re- 
marks, and  a  species  of  inquiry,  which 
was  conducted  with  the  utmost  delicacy, 
but  which,  in  itself,  was  of  a  nature  to  be 
inexpressibly  painful  to  a  gentleman's 
feelings.  Mr.  Clay  stopped  it  with  the 
generous  remark  that  the  fire  was  clearly 
an  accident,  and  it  was  so  unanimously 
declared.  Another  pistol  was  immediately 
furnished ;  an  exchange  of  shots  took 
place,  and,  happily,  without  effect  upon 
the  persons.  Mr.  Randolph's  bullet  struck 
the  stump  behind  Mr.  Clay,  and  Mr.  Clay's 
knocked  up  the  earth  and  gravel  behind 
Mr.  Randolph,  and  in  a  line  with  the  level 
of  his  hips,  both  bullets  having  gone  so 
true  and  close,  that  it  was  a  marvel  how 
they  missed. 

The  moment  had  now  arrived  when 
Colonel  Benton  felt  that  he  could  inter- 
pose. He  arccordingly  went  in  among  the 
parties,  and  offered  his  mediation.  Noth- 
ing, however,  could  be  done.  Mr.  Clay 
said,  with  that  wave  of  the  hand  with 
which  he  was  accustomed  to  put  away  a 
tr^e,  "  This  is  child's  play  ! "  and  required 
another  fire.  Mr.  Randolph  also  demanded 
another  fire.     The   seconds  were  directed 


to  reload.  While  this  was  doing,  Colonel 
Benton  prevailed  on  Mr.  Randolph  to 
walk  away  from  his  post,  and  imj)ortuned 
him,  more  pressingly  than  ever,  to  yield  to 
some  accommodation.  The  colonel  found 
him,  however,  more  determined  than  ever 
before,  and  for  the  first  time  impatient, 
and  seemingly  annoyed  and  dissatisfied  at 
such  approaches.  The  accidental  fire  of 
his  pistul  preyed  upon  his  feelings.  He 
was  doubly  chagrined  at  it,  both  as  a  cir- 
cumstance susceptible  in  itself  of  an  unfair 
interpretation,  and  as  having  been  the 
immediate  and  controlling  cause  of  his  fir- 
ing at  Mr.  Clay.  He  regretted  this  fire 
the  instant  it  was  over.  He  felt  that  it 
had  subjected  him  to  imputations  from 
which  he  knew  himself  to  be  free, —  a 
desire  to  kill  Mr.  Clay,  and  a  contempt  for 
the  laws  of  his  state ;  and  the  annoyances 
which  he  felt  at  these  vexatious  circum- 
stances revived  his  original  determination, 
and  decided  him  irrevocably  to  carry  it 
out. 

It  was  in  this  interval  that  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph told  Colonel  Benton  what  he  had 
heard  since  they  parted,  and  to  which  he 
alluded  when  speaking  from  the  window 
of  the  carriage.  It  was  to  this  effect : 
that  he  had  been  informed  by  Colonel 
Tatnall,  that  it  was  proposed  to  give  out 
the  words  with  more  deliberateness,  so  as 
to  prolong  the  time  for  taking  aim.  This 
information  grated  harshly  upon  his 
feelings.  It  unsettled  his  purpose, 
and  brought  his  mind  to  the  inquiry 
expressed  in  the  following  note,  Avhioh 
he  had  immediately  written  in  pencil, 
to  apprise  Colonel  Benton  of  his  possible 
change : 

"  Information  received  from  Colonel 
Tatnall  since  I  got  into  the  carriage  maij 
induce  me  to  change  my  mind  of  not 
returning  Mr.  Clay's  fire.  I  seek  not  his 
death.  I  would  not  have  his  blood  upon 
my  hands — it  will  not  be  upon  my  soul  if 
shed  in  self-defense — for  the  world.  He 
has  determined,  by  the  use  of  a  long,  pre- 
paratory caution  by  words,  to  get  time  to 
kill  me.  May  I  not,  then,  disable  him  ? 
Yes,  if  I  please." 


288 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


According  to  the  statement  of  General 
Jesup,  already  given,  this  '  information  ' 
was  a  misappreliension,  Mr.  Clay  not  hav- 
ing applied  for  a  prolongation  of  time  for 
the  purpose  of  getting  sure  aim,  but  only 
to  enable  his  unused  hand,  long  unfa- 
miliar witli  the  pistol,  to  lire  within  the 
limited  time.  There  was  no  prolongation, 
in  fact,  either  granted  or  insisted  upon; 
but  Mr.  Randolph  was  in  doubt,  and  Gen- 
eral Jesup  having  won  the  word,  he  was 
having  him  repeat  it  in  the  way  he  was 
to  give  it  out,  when  his  finger  touched  the 
liair  trigger.  The  inquiry,  '  May  I  not 
disable  him? '  was  still  on  Mr.  Randolph's 
mind,  and  dependent  for  its  solution  on 
the  rising  incidents  of  the  moment,  when 
the  accidental  fire  of  his  pistol,  gave  the 
turn    to   his    feelings    which    solved    the 


was    to  disable    him,  and    spoil    his    aim. 
And  then  he  added,  with  the  deepest  feel- 


mg- 


'^  I  would  not  have  seen  him  fall  mo r- 
tallij,  or  even  douhtfiilly,  ^founded,  for  all 
the  land  that  is  icatered  by  the  King  of 
Floods  and  all  his  tributary  streams'' 

Saying  this,  Mr.  Randolph  left  Colonel 
Benton  to  resume  his  post,  utterly  refusing 
to  explain  out  of  the  senate  anything  that 
he  had  said  in  it,  and  with  the  positive 
declaration  that  he  would  not  return  the 
next  fire.  Colonel  Benton  concludes  his 
reminiscences  of  this  most  remarkable 
affair,  as  follows:  I  Avithdrew  a  little  way 
into  the  woods,  and  kept  my  eyes  fixed 
upon  Mr.  Randolph,  whom  I  then  knew  to 
be  the  only  one  in  danger.  I  saw  him 
receive    the    fire    of    Mr,    Clay,   saw   the 


t"  />;  -•turn 
-vVH":  t  ■'- 


^^'^f^^'m^ 


•  t:^  '^^Ss^^W^^^Cr-^^'l 


,,1     '\  -^    A 


.■t,*» ' 


''  ; 


DUELINO-OROUND   AT   BLADENSBURO. 


doubt.  But  he  afterwards  declared  to 
Colonel  Benton,  that  he  had  not  aimed  at 
the  life  of  Mr.  Clay  ;  that  he  did  not  level 
as  high  as  the  knee — not  higher  than  the 
knee-band,  'for  it  was  no  mercy  to  shoot 
a  man  in  the  knee;'  that  his,  only  object 


gravel  knocked  up  in  the  same  place,  saw 
Mr.  Randolph  raise  his  pistol, — discharge 
it  into  the  air, — heard  him  say,  "  I  do  not 
fire  at  you,  Mr.  Clay,'' — and  immediately 
advancing,  and  offering  his  hand.  He 
was  met  in   the  same   spirit.     They  met 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


289 


lialf-way,  sliook  hands,  Mr.  Randolph  say- 
ing jocosely,  "  You  owe  me  a  coat,  Mr. 
Claij,^'' — (the  bullet  had  passed  through 
the  skirt  of  the  coat,  very  near  the  hip) 
— to  which  Mr.  Clay  promptly  and  hap- 
pily replied,  "/  am  rjlad  the  debt  is  no 
(jreatevy  I  had  come  up,  and  was  prompt 
to  proclaim  what  I  had  been  obliged  to 
ceep  secret  for  eight  days.  The  joy  of  all 
was  extreme  at  this  happy  termination  of 
a  most  critical  affair,  and  we  immediately^ 
left,  with  lighter  hearts  than  we  brought. 
I  stopped  to  sup  with  Mr.  Randol[)h  mid 
his  friends, — none  of  us  wanted  dinner, — 
and  had  a  characteristic  time  of  it.  A 
runner  came  in  from  the  bank,  to  say  that 
tliey  had  overpaijl  him,  by  mistake,  one 
hundred  and  thirty  dollars  that  day.  Mr. 
Randolph  answered,  '•  I  believe  it  is  your 
rule  not  to  correct  mistakes,  except  at  the 
time  and  at  your  counter."  And  with 
that  answer  the  runner  had  to  return. 
When  gone,  Mr.  Randolph  said,  "I  will 
l^ay  it  on  Monday  ;  people  must  be  honest, 
if  banks  are  not."  He  asked  for  the 
sealed  paper  he  had  given  me,  opened  it, 
took  out  a  check  for  one  thousand  dollars, 
drawn  in  my  favoi',  and  with  which  I  was 
requested  to  have  him  carried,  if  killed,  to 
Virginia,  and  buried  under  his  patri- 
monial oaks, — not  let  him  be  buried  at 
AVashington,  with  an  hundred  hacks  after 
him.  He  took  the  gold  from  his  left 
breeches  pocket,  and  said  to  us  (Hamil- 
ton, Tatnall,  and  I), — 

"  Gentlemen,  Clay's  bad  shooting  shan't 
rob  you  of  your  seals.  I  am  going  to 
London,  and  will  have  them  made  for 
you." 

This  he  did  (says  Colonel  Benton),  and 
most  characteristically,  so  far  as  mine  was 
concerned.  He  went  to  the  heraldry  office 
in  London,  and  inquired  for  the  Benton 
family,  of  which  I  had  often  told  him 
there  was  none,  as  we  only  dated  on  that 
side  from  my  grandfather  in  North  Caro- 
lina. But  the  name  was  found,  and  with 
it  a  coat  of  arms, — among  the  quarterings 
a  lion  rampant.  ''This  is  the  family," 
said  he ;  and  had   the  arms   engraved  on 

the  seal. 

19 


The  account  given  by  General  James 
Hamilton,  of  this  duel,  states  that,  in 
company  with  Colonel  Tatnall,  he  repaired, 
at  midnight,  to  Mr.  Randolph's  lodgings, 
and  found  him  reading  Milton's  great 
poem.  For  some  moments  he  did  not  per- 
mit them  to  say  one  word  in  relation  to 
the  approaching  duel,  for  he  at  once  com- 
menced one  of  those  delightful  criticisms 
on  a  passage  of  this  poet,  in  which  he  was 
wont  so  enthusiastically  to  indulge.  After 
a  pause.  Colonel  Tatnall  remarked  : 

"Mr.  Randolph,  I  am  told  you  have 
determined  not  to  return  Mr.  Clay's  fire ; 
I  must  say  to  you,  my  dear  sir,  if  I  am 
only  to  go  out  to  see  you  shot  down,  you 
must  find  some  other  friend." 

"Well,  Tatnall,"  said  Mr.  Randolph, 
after  much  conversation  on  the  subject,  "  I 
promise  you  one  thing;  if  I  see  the  devil 
in  Clay's  eye,  and  that,  with  malice  pre- 
pense, he  means  to  take  my  life,  I  may 
change  my  mind" 

As  the  sequel  showed,  however,  he  saw 
no  '  devil  in  Clay's  eye,'  but  a  man  fear- 
less, and  expressing  the  mingled  sensi- 
bility and  firmness  pertaining  to  the 
occasion.  For,  whilst  Tatnall  was  load- 
ing Mr.  Randolph's  pistol,  Hamilton  ap- 
proached Randolph,  took  his  hand, —  in 
the  touch  of  which  there  was  not  the 
quivering  of  one  pulsation, —  and  then, 
turning  to  Hamilton,  Randolph  said : 

"  Clay  is  calm,  but  not  vindictive  ;  I 
hold  my  purpose,  Hamilton,  in  any  event ; 
remember  this." 

On  Randolph's  pistol  going  off  without 
the  word.  General  Jesup,  Mr.  Clay's 
friend,  called  out  that  he  would  instantly 
leave  the  ground  with  his  friend,  if  that 
occurred  again.  On  the  word  being 
given,  Mr.  Clay  fired  without  effect,  Mr, 
Randolph  discharging  his  pistol  in  the 
air.  On  seeing  this,  Mr.  Clay  instantly 
approached  Mr.  Randolph,  and  with  a  gush 
of  the  deepest  emotion,  said, — 

"  /  trust  in  God,  my  dear  sir,  you  are 
untouched;  after  what  has  occurred,  I 
xvonld  not  have  harmed  you  for  a  thou- 
sand v'orlds  !" 

On  the  ensuing  Monday,  Mr.  Clay  and 


290 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Mr.  Randolph  formally  exchanged  cards, 
and  their  relations  of  amity  and  courtesy 
were  restored. 

Many  of  Mr.  Clay's  warmest  political 
friends,  at  the  north  and  west,  deeply 
regretted  that  he  should  reso-t  to  what 
they  deemed  so  immoral  and  barbarous 
a  mode  of  vindicating  his  character,  as 
that  of  the  duello.  But  this  was  soon 
forgotten,  and  his  political  career  continued 
to  be  one  of  great  brilliancy  and  power. 
He  soon  succeeded  General  John  Adair, 
as  senator  from  Kentucky ;  and  again,  in 
1831,  was  elected  over  Richard  M.  John- 
son, to  the  same  high  post.     He  was  dis- 


appointed, however,  in  his  asj)irations  for 
the  presidency,  though  great  enthusiasm 
was  manifested  for  the  ticket  which,  in 
1831,  bore  his  name  at  its  head,  with  John 
Sergeant  for  vic^'-president.  The  other 
political  duels  which  have  excited  great 
interest  in  the  public  mind,  during  the 
century,  were  those  of  Lee  and  Laurens, 
Cadwallader  and  Conway,  Guinnett  and 
Mcintosh,  Hamilton  and  Burr,  DeWitt 
Clinton  and  Swartwout,  Cilley  and  Graves, 
Broderick  and  Terry.  General  Jackson 
and  Colonel  Benton  were  also  parties  to 
several  duels,  the  former  killing  Mr. 
Dickinson,  and  the  latter  a  Mr.  Lucas. 


XXXI. 

FIFTIETH    ANNIVERSARY   AND    CELEBRATION    OF    THE 
INDEPENDENCE   OF   THE   REPUBLIC— 1826. 


SiiiMen  and  Siiuiiltaneous  Death  of  Ex-Presidents  John  Adams  and  Tliomas  Jefferson,  its  Two  Most 
Illustrious  Founders — Tiie  Day  ot  Kesoundiiif;  Joy  and  Jubilee  Changed  to  One  of  Profound 
National  Sorrow. — No  Misloricai  Parallel  to  Such  a  Remarkable  Coincidence. — World-Renowned 
Caeer  of  t  .ese  Statesmen. —  K.xtraordinary  Preparations  for  the  Day. — Adams  and  Jefferson  then 
Alive — Siies  and  Patriarchs  of  the  Nation — Their  Names  IIousehoM  Words. — Invited  to  Share 
in  the  Festivities — They  Hail  the  (Jlorious  Morn — Great  Uejoicinjjs,  Death's  Summons. — Jefferson's 
Di.-<tih^uishing  Honor. — Adams's  Patriotic  Luster — Their  Imjierishable  Deeds — Calm  yet  Hit;h 
Kntliusiasm  — Hostile  Leaders  in  Atter-Life — Racy  and  Piquant  Anecdote. — Crisis  Point  in  Adams's 
Fortunes — His  Last  Toast  for  His  Country, — "  Imlependence  Forever." — Two  Sages  in  Old  Age  — 
Serenity,  Wisdom,  Dignity — Former  Friendship  Revived. — Letters  of  Mutual  Attachment. — Euro- 
pean Adiuiration  Excited — Reverence  to  their  Colossal  Fame. 


"  Such  poss  away:  hut  they  leave 
AH  hope,  or  love,  or  truth,  or  Liberty, — 
Wi  osc  foms  tli'ir  ni  ghl.v  siiirith  eould  conceive,— 
To  be  a  rule  aud  law  lo  u.,'eb  that  survive." 


'k  OVOUS,  painful,  I\y  sudden  and  strange  transition,  to  the  Anieri- 
c-an  people,  was  the  Fourth  of  July,  1826, — the  anniversary  of  the 
fir.st  half-century  of  their  national  existence,  and,  as  it  proved,  the 
day  on  which  the  two  chief  founders  of  the  republic  passed, 
sinuiltaneously,  from  the  scenes  of  their  earthly  career  to  the 
repose  and  the  rewards  of  another  world; — one  of  the  most  remarkable  coincidences 
that  has  ever  occurred  in  the  history  of  nations.  It  was  the  half-centennial  Jubilee  of 
American  Independence,  and  preparations  had  been  made  in  every  part  of  the  Union  to 
celebrate  the  august  day  with  extraordinary  demonstrations  and  observances.  John 
Adams  and  Thomas  Jefferson,  two  illustrious  sages,  whose  names  and  lives  were  pre- 
eminently identified  with  the  formation  of  the  government,  and,  for  so  man}-  years, 
with  its  history  and  administration,  so  much  so  as  to  have  become  household  names 
everyw  here,  in  the  nation,  were,  on  this  most  memorable  day, — amid  the  rejoicings  of 
the  people,  the  peals  of  artillery,  the  strains  of  music,  the  exultations  of  a  great 
nation  in  the  enjoyment  of  freedom,  peace,  and  happiness, — released  from  the  toils 
of  life. 

Ill  the  personal  and  public  career  of  these  two  great  patriots,  there  were  many 
j;)oints  of  similarity.  In  the  enumeration  of  these  similarities  by  Mr.  Webster,  their 
eloquent  eulogist,  it  appears  that  they  belonged  to  the  same  profession,  both 
being  learned  and  able  lawyers.  They  were  natives  and  iidiabitants,  respectivel.y, 
of  those  two  of  the  colonies,  Massachusetts  and  Virginia,  which,  at  the  time   of  the 


292 


OUR  FIEST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


revolution,  were  the  largest  and  most  pow- 
erful, and  which  naturally  had  a  lead  in 
the  political  affairs  of  the  times.  When 
the  colonies  became  in  some  degree  united, 
by  the  assembling  of  a  general  congress, 
they  Avere  brought,  at  an  early  period,  to 
act  together  in  its  deliberations.  Each 
had  already  manifested  his  attachment  to 
tlie  cause  of  the  country,  as  well  as  his 
ability  to  maintain  it,  by  printed  addresses, 
public  speeches,  extensive  correspondence, 
and  whatever  other  mode  could  be  adoj^ted 
for  the  purpose  of  exposing  the  encroach- 
ments of  the  British  parliament,  and  ani- 
mating the  people  to  a  manly  resistance. 
Both  were  not  only  decided,  but  early, 
friends  of  independence.  While  others 
yet  doubted,  they  were  resolved;  where 
others  hesitated,  they  pressed  forward. 
They  were  both  members  of  the  committee 
for  preparing  the  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence, and  they  constituted  the  sub-com- 
mittee appointed  by  the  other  members  to 


versary  of  American  liberty — in  the  very 
midst  of  the  festivities  which  commem- 
orated the  nation's  half-centennial  jubilee  ! 
Wherever  the  tidings  of  their  decease 
could  be  flashed,  on  that  eventful  da)',  the 
voices  of  festivity  and  mirth  were  changed 
to  those  of  wonder  and  mourning. 

Jefferson's  imperishable  renown  consists 
in  his  having  penned  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  rather  than  in  the  fact  of 
his  having  filled  the  highest  offices,  state 
and  national,  culminating  with  that  of 
president  of  the  repiiblic. 

On  the  other  hand,  to  have  been  fore- 
most among  those  who  foresaw  and  broke 
the  way  for  the  birth  of  a  new  nation ;  to 
have  been  the  mover  of  numerous  decisive 
acts,  the  undoubted  precursors  of  the  great 
consummation ;  to  liave  been  among  the 
many  and  towering  spirits  then  engaged 
in  defjdng  the  mightiest  throne  in  Chris- 
tendom, by  acknowledgment  unsurpassed 
in  zeal,  and  unequaled  in  ability ;  to  have 


TIIIC  .lEFKKHSON'    JIANSION    AT    .M(  ».N  1  H  i;i,LO. 


make  the  draft.  Jefferson  W'as  the  author 
of  that  noblest  production  of  statesman- 
ship; Adams  was  its  chief  parliamentary 
expositor  and  triumphant  advocate  in  the 
'■  assembly  of  the  mighty.'  They  left  their 
seats  in  congress,  being  called  to  other 
public  employment,  at  periods  not  remote 
from  each  other.  Both  became  public 
ministers  abroad,  both  vice-presidents,  and 
both  i^residents.  All  tliese  remarkable 
parallels  and  coincidences  were  at  last  most 
singularly  crowned  and  comi)leted  :  They 
died  together — and  they  died  on  the  anni- 


been  exclusively  associated  with  the  au- 
thor of  the  Declaration  ;  and  then,  with  a 
fervid  and  overwhelming  eloquence,  to 
have  taken  the  lead  in  inspiring  the  con- 
gress unanimously  to  adopt  and  proclaim 
it, — this  is  the  glory  of  John  Adams. 

Mr.  Adams  commenced  the  practice  of 
the  law  in  his  native  town  of  Quincy.  At 
the  age  of  twenty-eight,  he  was  married  to 
Abigail  Smith,  a  country  clergyman's 
daughter,  and  an  excellent  woman  w^th 
whom  ho  lived  in  wedlock  more  than  fifty 
years.     At  the  age  of  thirty,  he  published 


GREAT  AND  MEMORAHLE  EVENTS. 


293 


a  dissertation  on  Canon  and  Feudal  Law, 
ill  whicli  he  explained  the  Puritan  princi- 
ples of  I'eligion  and  government,  and 
brouglit  them  to  bear  upon  the  disputes 
hctween  Great  Britain  and  the  loloiiies.  In 
17(5G,  he  removed  to  Boston.  His  jnofes- 
sional  standing  was  now  so  high,  that,  in 
17G8,  Governor  Bernard  offered  him  the 
post  of  advocate-general  of  the  court  of 
admiralt}'.  But  Mr.  Adams  had  ranked 
liimself  decisively  with  the  friends  of  the 
people  ;  and  had  he  accepted  a  lucrative 
office  under  the  crown,  although  no  condi- 
tions were  annexed,  his  course  would  not 
have  been  the  same  as  heretofore.  In 
truth,  the  offer  must  have  been  intended 
quite  as  much  to  silence  his  political  oppo- 
sition, as  to  secure  liis  legal  services.  He 
therefore  declined  it,  but  gave  a  noble 
evidence,  not  long  aft-erwards,  that  no  base 
subserviency  to  the  people,  any  more  than 
to  the  government,  could  make  him  swerve 
from  his  own  ideas  of  right.  This  truth 
was  shown  in  1770,  by  his  conduct  in  ref- 
erence to  the  Boston  massacre,  as  the 
following  account  will  show. 

The  scene  of  bloodshed  in  King  street, 
Boston,  was  a  natural  consequence  of  the 
relative  positions  of  the  soldiery  and  the 
people.  No  good  feeling  could  possibly 
exist  between  them.  On  the  part  of  the 
troops,  the  haughty  consciousness  that 
Britain  had  made  them  keepers  of  the 
province,  together  with  a  sense  of  the 
odium  in  which  they  were  held,  produced 
a  contemptuous  antipathy  towards  the 
colonists. 

At  the  sight  of  their  own  blood,  shed  b}' 
a  hireling  soldiery,  the  ferment  of  the 
people  became  terrible,  and  was  shared, 
for  a  time,  by  the  calmest  patriots  in  New 
England.  A  multitude,  computed  at  ten 
or  twelve  thousand,  assembled  at  Faneuil 
Hall,  and  adjourned  thence  to  the  Old 
South  Church.  There  went  a  rumor,  that 
the  tragedy  in  King  street  had  been  pre- 
meditated, and  was  but  the  prelude  to  a 
general  massacre.  For  defense  against 
this  exaggerated,  yet  not  altogether  shad- 
owy danger,  a  military  guard  was  enrolled, 
and  the  town  put  itself  under  martial  law. 


No  British   officer   or   soldier   could    have 
walked  the  streets  with  safety  to  his  life. 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs,  when  John 
Adams,  himself  the  foremost  patriot  of  all, 
and  a  member  of  the  people's  military 
guard,  was  solicited  to  undertake  the 
defense  of  Captain  Preston,  and  the  sol- 
diers who  had  fired  the  fatal  volley,  against 
the  charge  of  murder.  It  was  a  singular 
compliment  to  his  integrity,  that  the 
imprisoned  soldiers  should  have  sought  the 
aid  of  a  man  so  situated. 

It  does  not  appear  that  the  confidence 
of  Mr.  Adams's  countrymen  in  him  was 
shaken  by  this  act  of  personal  and  profes- 
sional independence;  or,  if  so,  it  was  only 
for  the  moment.  In  1773,  he  was  chosen 
a  member  of  the  provincial  council,  but 
was  rejected  by  the  tory  Governor  Hutch- 
inson, and  afterwards  by  General  Gage. 

In  the  year  1775,  John  Adams,  as  a 
delegate  in  congress,  nominated  George 
Washington  to  the  post  of  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  American  armies.  The  glory 
of  originating  this  choice  appears  to  be- 
long jirincijially  to  Mr.  Adams,  and,  did 
he  need  a  secondary  reputation,  this 
would  have  been  claim  enough  to  his 
country's  gratitude.  The  service  cannot 
be  too  highly  estimated.  Washington's 
character  was  of  such  a  nature,  that,  if 
some  sagacious  individual  had  not  pointed 
him  out,  he  probably  would  not  have  been 
the  foremost  figure  in  the  public  eye 
Had  the  selection  fallen  upon  another,  no 
one  can  conjecture  what  would  have  been 
the  result. 

As  already  stated,  Mr.  Adams  was  one 
of  the  committee  to  draft  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  ;  and  the  calm,  yet  high 
enthusiasm  of  the  letter  in  Avhich  he 
announced  that  event  to  a  friend,  and 
prophesied  that  its  anniversary  would 
become  a  national  festival,  must  be  famil- 
iar to  every  American.  He  had  a  share 
in  all  the  weightiest  business  of  congress, 
and  bore  the  burden  of  much  that  was  less 
important,  being  a  member  of  no  less  than 
ninety  committees,  and  chairman  of  twen- 
ty-five. In  1777,  he  was  appointed  com- 
missioner to  France,  to  supersede  Deane, 


294 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


who  was  the  colleague  there  of  Benjamin 
Franklin  and  Arthur  Lee  ;  returning  home 
in  1779,  he  was  again  sent  out,  in  tlie 
autumn  of  that  year,  with  powers  to  con- 
clude a  treaty  of  peace  and  commerce.  In 
1785,  the  distinguished  honor  fell  to  him 
of  being  appointed  the  first  minister  from 
the  United  States  to  the  court  of  St. 
James;  and,  in  this  capacity,  was  duly 
presented  to  his  long-time  political  enemj-. 
King  George  the  Third.  In  1788,  he 
returned  home.  He  subsequently  assisted 
in  forming  the  constitution  of  his  native 
state.  During  the  eight  years  presidency 
of  Washington,  Mr.  Adams  was  vice-pres- 
ident, and,  when  the  former  retired  from 
office,  Mr.  Adams,  after  a  hard  political 
contest  with  Jefferson  and  Thomas  Pinck- 
ney,    became    president    of    the    United 


-f^-zTTl, 


States.  At  the  end,  however,  of  the  first 
four  years,  Mr.  Jefferson  came  in  by  a  tri- 
umphant majority,  and  President  Adams 
retired  to  domestic  life.  This  was  in  1801, 
when  he  had  reached  the  age  of  sixty-six. 
His  long  course  of  public  services  was 
now  ended.  At  the  period  of  his  retire- 
ment, he  did  not  enjoy  the  unreserved  and 
cordial  approbation  of  any  party.  Some 
of  his  measures  had  gone  far  towards  alien- 
ating the  fedei'alists  by  whom  he  had  been 
chosen  president,  and  he   had  bitter  ene- 


mies. Being  a  man  of  warm  passions, 
Mr.  Adams  was  not  slow  to  resent,  nor 
cautious  to  hide  his  resentment.  He  once 
observed,  pointing  to  his  own  j^ortrait, 
"  That  fellow  could  never  keep  his  mouth 
shut ! "  But  he  was  always  frank,  and 
inflexibly  honest,  as  is  most  plainly  shown 
by  the  incidents  given  in  his  biography, 
written  by  Hon.  Charles  Francis  Adams. 

As  showing  from  what  accidental  cir- 
cumstances often  spring  the  most  import- 
ant changes  in  the  lives  and  fortunes  of 
men,  the  following  anecdote  is  well  worth}' 
of  a  place  in  this  narrative:  'When  I  was 
a  boy,'  says  John  Adams,  '  I  had  to  study 
the  Latin  grammar,  but  it  was  dull,  and  I 
hated  it.  My  father  was  anxious  to  send 
me  to  college,  and  therefore  I  studied  the 
grammar  till  I  could  bear  with  it  no  longer, 
and,  going  to  my  father,  I  told  him  I  did 
not  like  study,  and  asked  for  some  other 
employment.  It  was  opposing  his 
wishes,  and  he  was  quick  in  his  answer. 
'Well,  John,' said  he,  'if  Latin  gram- 
mar does  not  suit  you,  ^-ou  may  try 
ditching ;  perhaps  that  will.  Mj- 
meadow  yonder  needs  a  ditch,  and  you 
may  jiut  by  Latin  and  try  that.'  This 
seemed  a  delightful  change,  and  to  the 
meadow  I  Avent.  But  I  soon  found 
ditching  harder  than  Latin,  and  the  first 
^  forenoon  was  the  longest  I  ever  expe- 
rienced. That  da}'  I  ate  the  bread  of 
labor,  and  glad  Avas  I  when  night  came 
on.  That  night  I  made  some  compar- 
ison between  Latin  grammar  and  ditch- 
ing, but  said  not  a  word  about  it.  I 
(lug  the  next  forenoon,  and  wanted  to 
return  to  Latin  at  dinner ;  but  it  was 
humiliating,  and  I  could  not  do  it.  At 
night,  toil  conquered  pride,  and  I  told 
my  father — one  of  the  severest  trials  of 
my  life — that,  if  he  chose,  I  would  go  back 
to  Latin  grammar.  He  was  glad  of  it; 
and  if  I  have  since  gained  any  distinction, 
it  has  been  owing  to  the  two  days'  labor 
in  that  abominable  ditch.' 

Declining  farther  and  farther  into  the 
vale  of  3'ears,  and  now  long  removed  from 
the  dust  of  contending  parties,  the  hoary 
sage  drew    towards  his    sepulchre.      For 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


295 


several  days  before  tlie  fourtli  of  July  on 
wliicli  lie  exi)ire(l,  he  had  been  fast  fail in<j^, 
though,  in  rei)ly  to  an  invitation  to  partiei- 
])ate  in  the  celebration  of  that  day,  he 
wrote  a  j)atriotic  note,  full  of  the  lire  of 
his  best  days.  Being  desired  to  furnish  a 
toast  for  the  occasion,  he  gave — 'Inde- 
PEXDKXCE  Forever!'  He  was  asked  if 
anything  should  be  added  to  it.  He  ini me- 
diately replied,  ^^  Not  a  icordf"  This 
toast  was  drank  at  the  celebration  in 
Quinc}',  about  fifty  minutes  before  the 
(lei)arture  of  the  venerated  statesman  from 
earth.  On  the  morning  of  the  fourth, 
which  was  ushered  in  by  the  ringing  of 
bells  and  firing  of  cannon,  lie  Avas  asked  if 
he  knew  what  day  it  was  ? — "  0  yes,"  he 
replied,  ''it  is  the  glorious  fourth  of  July 
— God  bless  it ! — God  bless  you  all  !  "  In 
the  course  of  the  day  he  said,  "  It  is  a 
great  and  glorious  day."  The  last  words 
he  uttered  were,  "Jefferson  survives!" 
But  the  spirit  of  Jefferson  had  already 
left  the  body.  Among  Adams's  pall- 
bearers, were  President  Kirkland,  Judge 
Story,  Judge  Davis,  and  Lieutenant 
Governor  Winthrop. 

]VIr.  Jefferson,  the  illustrious  compeer  of 
Adinis,  was  born  in  Albemarle  county, 
Virginia,  in  1743,  and  was  entered  a  stu- 
dent in  the  college  of  William  and  IMary. 
On  leaving  this  seminary,  he  applied  him- 
self to  the  study  of  the  law,  under  the 
tuition  of  the  celebrated  George  Wythe, 
and  was  called  to  the  bar  in  1766.  He 
soon  occuftied  a  high  stand  in  his  profes- 
sion, and,  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-five, 
entered  the  hoiise  of  burgesses  of  his 
native  state.  In  1774,  he  published  a 
Summary  View  of  the  Rights  of  British 
America,  a  bold  but  respectful  pamjihlet 
addressed  to  the  king  In  1775,  he  was 
elected  a  member  of  the  continental  con- 
gress, and  in  the  following  year  drew  up 
the  Declaration  of  Independence,  the  most 
remarkable  document  that  has  ever,  in  the 
ages  of  the  world,  proceeded  from  an 
uninspired  pen. 

Of  the  committee  appointed  to  draft  the 
momentous  Declaration,  Jefferson,  though 
the    5'oungest,    was    unanimously    made 


chairman,  his  colleagues  being  John 
Adams  of  Massachusetts,  Benjamin  Frank- 
lin of  Bennsylvaiiia,  Roger  Sherman  of 
Connecticut,  and  Robert  R.  Livingston  of 
New  York.  Jefferson's  draft  was  taken 
up.  in  committee  of  the  whole,  on  the  first 
of  July,  the  chair  being  filled  by  Benjamin 
Harrison,  father  of  William  Henry  Har- 
rison, president  of  the  United  States  in 
1840.  The  great  manifesto  was  debated, 
and,  after  some  slight  ..lodifications,  was 
agreed  to  in  the  course  of  a  three  days' 
session.  No  record  of  that  thrilling  debate 
has  come  down  ;  only  some  fragmentary 
reminiscences  of  the  participants  of  the 
drama.  Edwai-d  Rutledge,  of  South  Caro- 
lina, is  said  to  have  exclaimed,  "I  should 
advise  persisting  in  our  struggle  for  liberty 
and  independence,  though  it  were  revealed 
from  Heaven  that  nine  hundred  and  ninety- 
nine  were  to  perish,  and  only  one  of  a 
thousand  were  to  survive  and  retain  his 
liberty."  The  Declaration  was  adopted, 
by  a  unanimous  A^ote,  a  little  past  noon,  on 
the  fourth  of  Jul3^  "Now,  gentlemen," 
said  the  quaint  Dr.  Franklin  to  his  col- 
leagues, "  we  must  all  hang  together,  or 
we  shall  surely  hang  separately." 

Though  what  may  be  termed  bitter 
political  rivals  for  a  long  period, — leading, 
respectively,  the  two  great  opposing  par- 
ties,— time's  mellowing  influence  changed 
all  this,  and  the  two  patriarchal  statesmen 
and  ex-presidents  cultivated  a  mutually 
warm  and  generous  friendship  in  their  old 
age.  In  a  letter  written  bv  Jefferson  to 
Adams,  in  June,  1822,  he  says: 

"It  is  very  long,  my  dear  sir,  since  I 
have  written  to  you.  My  dislocated  wrist 
is  now  become  so  stiff,  that  I  write  slowly, 
and  with  pain;  and  therefore  write  as 
little  as  I  can.  Yet  it  is  due  to  mutual 
friendship,  to  ask  once  in  a  while  how  we 
do  ?  I  have  ever  dreaded  a  doting  old 
age;  and  my  health  has  been  generally  so 
good,  and  is  now  so  good,  that  I  dread  it 
still.  The  rapid  decline  of  my  strength 
during  the  last  winter,  has  made  me  hope, 
sometimes,  that  I  see  land.  During 
summer,  I  enjoy  its  temperature,  but  1 
shudder  at  the  approach  of  winter,   and 


296 


OUR  FIKST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


wish  I  could  sleep  through  it,  with  the 
dormouse,  and  only  wake  with  him  in 
spring,  if  ever.  They  say  that  Starke 
could  walk  about  his  room.  I  am  told  you 
walk  well  and  firmly.  I  can  only  reach 
my  garden,  and  that  with  sensible  fatigue. 
I  ride,  however,  daily ;  but  reading  is  my 
delight.  I  should  wish  never  to  put  pen 
to  paper ;    and  the  more   because   of  the 


Europe,  where  it  excited  much  commenda- 
tion, on  account  of  the  contrast  it  afforded 
between  an  old  age  thus  dedicated  to 
virtue,  temperance,  and  philosojilij',  and 
the  heart-sickening  details  so  often  per 
taining  to  the  lives  of  those  who  sit  upon 
thrones. 

Though  he  had  for  some  time  past  been 
failing  in  his  general  health,  it  was  not 


THE  ADAMS  MA^•S10^'  AT  yUINCV. 


treacherous  practice  some  people  have,  of 
publishing  one's  letters  without  leave;" 
-—etc.,  etc. 

In  his  reply  to  the  pleasant  and  cordial 

ietter,  from  which  the  above  few  sentences 

ire   extracted  as   specimens,   Mr.   Adams 

says,  among  other  friendly  and  felicitous 

;xpressions : 

"  Half  an  hour  ago  I  received,  and  this 
moment  have  heard  read,  for  the  third  or 
fourth  time,  the  best  letter  that  ever  was 
written  by  an  octogenarian,  dated  June 
1st.  My  sight  is  very  dim,  hearing  pretty 
good,  memory  poor  enough.  In  wishing 
for  your  health  and  happiness,  I  am  very 
selfish  ;  for  I  hope  for  more  letters.  This 
is  worth  more  than  five  hundred  dollars  to 
me ;  for  it  has  already  given  me,  and  will 
continue  to  give  me,  more  pleasure  than  a 
thousand  ;  " — etc.,  etc. 

This  correspondence  between  the  once 
rival  presidents  of  the  greatest  republic  of 
the    world,   was   republished    iii    full,    in 


until  the  first  of  July  that  Mr.  Jefferson 
was  confined  to  his  bed.  On  the  third,  he 
continued  to  sink.  Near  the  middle  of  the 
night  he  asked  the  hour;  and  on  being 
told  that  it  was  near  one  o'clock,  he 
expressed  his  joy.  He  expressed  an  earn- 
est desire  that  he  might  live  to  behold  the 
light  of  the  next  da}' — the  fiftieth  anni- 
versary of  the  independence  of  his  coun- 
try. His  prayer  was  answered.  At  fifty 
minutes  past  meridian,  July  fourth,  1826, 
Thomas  Jefferson  ceased  to  breathe. 

Thus,  these  two  most  illustrious  fathers 
of  the  republic, — associates,  rivals,  friends, 
— took  their  flight  together  to  the  other 
world,  on  the  most  memorable  day  since 
the  birth  of  the  nation,  and  all  classes  and 
parties,  forgetting  the  animosities  of  the 
past,  united  in  paying  their  common  trib- 
ute of  reverence  to  tiie  magnificent  fame 
of  Adams  and  Jefferson.  In  the  words  of 
Webster,    their    great    eulogist,    ''their 


NAME  LIVETH  EVERMORE 


!" 


XXXII. 

THE    "GREAT    DEBATE;'    BETWEEN    WEBSTER    AND 
IIAYNE,  IN  CONGRESS.— 1830. 


Vital  Constitutional  Issues  Discussed  —Unsurpassed  Power  and  Splendor  of  Senatorial  Eloquence  — 
Webster's  Speech  Acknowledged  to  be  tlie  Grandest  Forensic  Acliievement  in  tiie  Whole  Range  of 
Modern  Parliamentary  Efforts  —Golden  Age  of  American  Oratory.— Unprecedented  Interest  and 
Excitement  Produced  in  the  Public  Mind. — No  American  Debate  Comparable  with  This. — Known  as 
the  "  Battle  of  the  Giants  "-Inflamed  Peeling  at  the  South.— llayne's  Brilliant  Championship.— His 
Speech  Against  the  North — Profound  Impression  Created — Its  Dash,  Assurance,  Severity — Bitter 
and  Sweeping  Charges. — His  Opponents  Wonder-Struck  —Webster  has  tlie  Floor  to  Reply. — An 
Ever-Memorable  Day. — Intense  Anxiety  to  Hear  Him. — Magnificent  Personal  Appearance. — His 
Exordium,  all  Hearts  Enchained. — Immense  Intellectual  Range  — Copious  and  Crushing  Logic. — 
Accumulative  Grandeur  of  Thought. — Thrilling  Apostrophe  to  the  Union. — The  Serious,  Comic, 
I'athetic,  etc — Hayne's  Argument  Demolished. — Reception  Accorded  the  Speech. — Rival  Orators; 
Pleasant  Courtesies. 


"  It  hnp  Ven  my  fortune  to  hear  some  of  the  nWost  sjvewhen  of  the  greatpft  livins  orators  on  both  sides  of  the  water,  but  I  must  eonfess  I 
never  heard  iinythin.;  which  so  ooriipletelv  riMlized  my  Coneepcioa  of  what  Ueuiostlienes  was  when  he  delivered  the  Orutiou  lor  the  Crowu." 
— EuvTAKD  hvERKrx  ON  Webstek's  Speech. 


«)    ^y 


.•^^- 


HE  remark  made  by  a  distingitished  public  man, 
that  to  have  heard  the  great  national  debate  in  the 
senate  of  the  United  States,  between  Webster  of 
Massachusetts  and  Hayne  of  South  Carolina,  "con- 
stituted an  era  in  a  man's  life,"  is  an  expression 
worthy  of  being  expanded  into  the  far  more  com- 
mensurate statement  that  the  debate  in  question 
constituted  an  era  of  far-reaching  influence  and 
importance,  in  the  political  history  of  the  nation. 
It  wa.s,  indeed,  the  greatest  forensic  exhibition  this 
THE  VICTOR'S  WREATH.  country  has  ever  witnessed,   and,  though    nearly 

half  a  century  has  elapsed  since  its  occurrence,  and  the  immediate  participants  and 
their  official  contemporaries  have,  almost  all  of  them,  long  since  passed  to  the  sphere  of 
another  existence,  the  occasion  still  funiishes,  and  will  continue  to  furnish  to  future 
generations,  one  of  the  most  instructive  chapters  in  the  annals  of  national  affairs.  "\^  ell 
has  the  debate  been  called  '  the  battle  of  the  giants.'' 

Fortunately  for  those  who  would  wish,  in  after  time,  to  inform  themselves  with  ref- 
erence to   the  principles  involved  and  the  chief  actors  engaged  in  this  great  debate, 


298 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G -1876. 


tlie  memorials  of  the  occasion  fumislied 
by  Mr.  Marcli,  and,  subsequently,  by  Mr. 
Lanman,  Dr.  Tefft,  Louis  Gaylord  Clark, 
Edward  Everett,  and  others,  leave  nothing 
to  be  supplied.  Mr.  March's  notes  are 
adopted  by  Mr.  Everett,  in  his  memoirs  of 
Mr.  Webster,  and,  in  an  abridged  form, 
are  given  below,  in  connection  with  the 
perspicuous  statements  of  Tefft  and  others 
relating  to  the  general  issue.  The  speech 
was  also  repoi'ted  by  Mr.  Joseph  Gales, 
at  the  request  of  Judge  Burnett,  of  Ohio, 
and  other  senators.  On  canvas,  too,  Hea- 
ley,  the  master-painter,  has  commem- 
orated in  an  enduring  manner,  the  orator 
and  the  occasion. 

The  subject  of  discussion  before  the 
senate,  in  the  persons  of  these  two  intel- 
lectual gladiators,  grew  out  of  a  resolution 
brought  forward  by  Senator  Foot,  of  Con- 
necticut, just  at  the  close  of  the  previous 
year,  with  a  view  to  some  arrangement 
concerning  the  sale  of  the  public  lands. 
]'>ut  this  immediate  question  was  soon  lost 
sight  of  in  the  discussion  of  a  great,  A'ital 
principle  of  constitutional  law,  namely  : 
the  relative  powers  of  the  states  and  the 
national  government.  Upon  this,  ]\Ir. 
Renton  and  Mr.  Hayne  addressed  the 
senate,  condemning  the  policy  of  the  east- 
ern states,  as  illiberal  toward  the  west. 
Mr.  "Webster  replied,  in  vindication  of 
New  England  and  of  the  policy  of  the 
government.  It  was  then  that  Mr.  Ilaj'ne 
made  his  attack — sudden,  unexpected,  and 
certainly  unexampled, — on  jNIr.  Webster 
personally,  upon  Massachusetts  and  the 
other  northern  states  politically,  and  upon 
the  constitution  itself;  in  respect  to  the 
latter,  Mi-.  Ilayne  taking  the  position,  that 
it  is  constitutional  to  interrupt  the  admin- 
istration of  the  constitution  itself,  in  the 
hands  of  those  who  are  chosen  and  sworn 
to  administer  it,  by  the  direct  interference, 
in  form  of  law,  of  the  states,  in  virtue  of 
their  sovereign  capacit3\  All  of  these 
points  were  handled  by  Mr.  Hayne  with 
that  rhetorical  brilliancy  and  power  which 
characterized  him  as  the  oratorical  cham- 
pion of  the  south,  on  the  floor  of  the 
senate ;  and  it  is  not   saying   too  much, 


that  the  speech  produced  a  j)rofound  im- 
pression. 

Mr.  Hayne's  great  effort  appeared  to  be 
the  result  of  i)remeditation,  concert  and 
arrangement.  He  selected  his  own  time, 
and  that,  too,  peculiarly  inconvenient  to 
Mr.  Webster,  for,  at  that  moment,  the 
supreme  court  were  proceeding  in  the 
hearing  of  a  cause  of  great  importance,  in 
which  he  was  a  leading  counsel.  For  this 
reason,  he  requested,  through  a  friend,  a 
postjjonement  of  the  debate;  IMr.  Hayne 
objected,  however,  and  the  request  was 
refused.  The  time,  the  matter,  and  the 
manner,  indicated  that  the  attai-k  was 
made  with  a  design  to  crush  so  formidable 
a  political  oj)ponent  as  JNIr.  Webster  had 
become.  To  this  end,  ])crsonal  history, 
the  annals  of  New  England  and  ef  the 
federal  party,  were  ransacked  for  materi- 
als. It  was  attempted,  with  the  usual 
partisan  unfairness  of  ])olitical  h:irangues, 
to  make  him  responsible,  not  only  for  what 
was  his  own,  but  for  llie  conduct  andoi)in- 
ions  of  otlier:>.  All  llie  errors  and  delin- 
quencies, real  or  supposed,  of  IMassachu- 
setts,  and  the  eastern  states,  and  of  the 
federal  party,  during  the  war  of  1812,  and, 
indeed,  j)riur  and  sid»sequent  to  that 
period,  Avere  accumulated  u])on  him. 

Thus  it  was,  that  ]\[r.  Hayne  heralded 
his  s])eech  with  a  bold  declaration  of  war, 
with  taunts  and  threats,  vaunting  ;;ntici- 
pated  triumj)h,  as  if  to  i)aralyze  by  intimi- 
dation; saying  that  he  would  carry  the 
war  into  Africa,  until  he  had  obtained 
indemnity  for  the  past  and  security-  for  the 
future.  It  was  supposed  that,  as  a  distin- 
guished representative  man,  Mr.  Webster 
would  be  driven  to  defend  what  was  inde- 
fensible, and  to  uphold  what  could  not  be 
sustained,  and,  as  a  federalist,  to  oppose 
the  ])opular  resolutions  of  '98. 

The  severe  nature  of  Mr.  Hayne's 
charges,  the  ability  Avith  which  he  brought 
them  to  bear  upon  his  opponents,  his  great 
reputation  as  a  brilliant  and  ])owerful 
declaimer,  filled  the  minds  of  his  friends 
with  anticipations  of  complete  triumph. 
For  two  days,  Mr.  Hayne  had  the  control 
of  the  floor.     The  vehemence  of  his  Ian- 


GllEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


299 


giiage  and  the  earnestness  of  liis  manner 
gave  added  force  to  the  exeitement  of  the 
occasion.  So  fluent  and  melodious  wasliis 
elocution,  that  his  cause  naturally  hegat 
synipatliy.  No  one  had  time  to  deliberate 
upon  his  rapid  words,  or  canvass  his  sweei)- 
ing  and  accumulated  statements.  The 
dashing  nature  of  the  onset ;  the  assurance, 
almost  insolence,  of  its  tone;  the  serious 
character  and  apparent  truth  of  the  accu- 
sations, confounded  almost  every  liearer. 
The  immediate  impression  from  the  speech 
was  most  assuredlv  <lisheartenin<x  to  the 
cause  Mr.  Webster  upheld.  Congratula- 
tions from  almo^  every  quarter  were  show- 
ered upon  the  speaker.  Mr.  Benton  said, 
in  tlie  full  senate,  that  much  as  Mr.  Hayne 
had  done  before  to  establish  his  reputation 
as  an  orator,  a  statesman,  a  patriot,  and  a 
gallant  son  of  the  south,  the  efforts  of  that 
day  would  eclipse  and  surpass  the  whole. 
Indeed,  the  speech  was  extolled  as  the 
greatest  effort  of  the  time,  or  of  other 
times, — neither  Chatham,  nor  Burke,  nor 
Fox,  had  surpassed  it,  in  their  palmiest 
days. 

Satisfaction,  however,  with  the  speech, 
even  among  the  friends  of  the  orator,  was 
not  unanimous.  Some  of  the  senators 
knew,  for  they  had  felt,  Mr.  "Webster's 
power.  They  knew  the  great  resources  of 
his  mind;  the  immense  range  of  his  intel- 
lect; the  fertilit}' of  his  imagination;  his 
copious  and  fatal  logic  ;  the  scathing  sever- 
ity of  his  sarcasm,  and  his  full  and  electri- 
fying eloquence.  Mr.  Webster's  own 
feelings  with  reference  to  the  speech  were 
freely  expressed  to  liis  friend,  Mr.  Everett, 
the  evening  succeeding  Mr.  Hayne's  clos- 
ing effort.  He  regarded  the  speech  as  an 
entirely  unprovokeil  attack  upon  the  north, 
and,  what  was  of  far  more  importance,  as 
an  exposition  of  a  system  of  politics, 
which,  in  Mr.  Webster's  ojiinion,  went  far 
to  change  the  form  of  government  from 
that  which  was  established  by  the  consti- 
tution, into  that  which  existed  under  the 
confederation, — if  the  latter  could  be  called 
a  government  at  all.  He  stated  it  to  be 
his  intention,  therefore,  to  put  that  theory 
to  rest  forever,  as  far  as  it  could  be  done 


by  an  argument  in  the  senate-cliamber. 
How  grandly  he  did  this,  is  thus  vividly 
portrayed  by  ]\Ir.  March,  an  eye-witness, 
and  whose  account  has  l)een  adopted  by  all 
historians : 

It  was  on  Tuesday,  January  the  twenty- 
sixth,  1830, — a  day  to  be  hereafter  forever 
memoral)le  in  senatorial  annals, — that  the 
senate  resumed  the  consideration  of  Foot's 
resolution.  There  was  never  before  in  the 
city,  an  occasion  of  so  much  excitement. 
To  witness  this  great  intellectual  contest, 
multitudes   of   strangers    had  for   two    or 


ROBEUT  Y.  HAYXE. 


three  da^'s  previous  Ijecn  rushing  into  the 
city,  and  the  hotels  overflowed.  As  early 
as  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  crowds 
poured  into  the  capitol,  in  hot  haste;  at 
twelve  o'clock,  the  hour  of  meeting,  the 
senate-chamber, — its  galleries,  floor,  and 
even  the  lobbies, — was  filled  to  its  utmost 
capacity.  The  very  stairwa3-s  were  dark 
with  men,  who  hung  on  to  one  another, 
like  bees  in  a  swarm. 

The  house  of  representatives  was  early 
deserted.  An  adjournment  would  hardly 
have  made  it  emptier.  The  speaker,  it  is 
true,  retained  his  chair,  but  no  business  of 
moment  was,  or  could  be,  attended  to. 
Members  all  rushed  in,  to  hear  Mr.  Weli- 
ster,  and  no  call  of  the  house,  or  other  par- 
liamentary proceedings,  could  compel  them 
back.      The   floor   of   the   senate   was    so 


300 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


densely  crowded,  that  persons  once  in 
could  not  get  out,  nor  change  their  posi- 
tion. In  the  rear  of  the  vice-president's 
cliair,  the  crowd  was  jjarticularly  dense ; 
Hon.  Dixon  H.  Lewis,  then  a  representa- 
tive from  Alabama,  became  wedged  in 
here.  From  his  enormous  size,  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  move  without  di.s- 
placing  a  vast  portion  of  the  multitude ; 
unfortunately,  too,  for  him,  he  was 
jammed  in  directly  behind  the  chair  of  the 
vice-president,  where  he  could  not  see,  and 
could  hardly  hear,  the  speaker.  By  slow 
and  laborious  effort — pausing  occasionally 
to  breathe — he  gained  one  of  the  windows, 
which,  constructed  of  jiainted  glass,  flanhed 
the  chair  of  the  vice-president  on  either 
side.  Here  he  paused,  unable  to  make 
more  headway.  But  determined  to  see 
Mr.  Webster,  as  he  spoke,  with  his  knife 
he  made  a  large  hole  in  one  of  the  panes 
of  glass.  The  courtesy  of  senators  ac- 
corded to  the  fairer  sex  room  on  the  floor 
— the  most  gallant  of  them,  their  own 
seats. 

Seldom,  if  ever,  has  speaker  in  this  or 
any  other  country,  had  more  powerful 
incentives  to  exertion ;  a  subject,  the 
determination  of  which  involved  the  most 
important  interests,  and  even  duration,  of 
the  republic ;  competitors,  unequaled  in 
reputation,  ability,  or  position;  a  name  to 
make  still  more  renowned,  or  lose  forever; 
and  an  audience,  comprising  not  only 
American  citizens  most  eminent  in  intel- 
lectual greatness,  but  representatives  of 
other  nations,  where  the  art  of  eloquence 
had  flourished  for  ages. 

Mr.  Webster  perceived,  and  felt  equal 
to,  the  destinies  of  the  moment.  The  ver}^ 
greatness  of  the  hazard  exhilarated  him. 
His  spirits  rose  with  the  occasion.  He 
awaited  the  time  of  onset  with  a  stern  and 
impatient  joy.  He  felt,  like  the  war-horse 
of  the  scriptures,  who  '  paweth  in  the 
valley,  and  rejoiceth  in  his  strength  :  who 
goeth  on  to  meet  the  armed  men, — who 
sayeth  among  the  trumpets,  ha,  ha !  and 
who  smelleth  the  battle  afar  off,  the  thun- 
der of  the  captains  and  the  shouting.'  A 
confidence  in  his  resources,  springing  from 


no  vain  estimate  of  his  power,  but  the 
legitimate  offspring  of  previous  severe 
mental  discipline,  sustained  and  excited 
him.  He  had  gauged  his  opponents,  his 
subject,  and  himself.  He  Avas,  too,  at  this 
period,  in  the  very  prime  of  manhood.  He 
had  reached  middle  age — an  era  in  the  life 
of  man,  Avhen  the  faculties,  ph^'sical  or 
intellectual,  may  be  supposed  to  attain 
their  fullest  organization,  and  most  perfect 
development.  Whatever  there  Avas  in 
him  of  intellectual  energy  and  vitality,  the 
occasion,  his  full  life  and  high  ambition, 
might  well  bring  forth. 

He  never  rose  on  an  ordinary  occasion 
to  address  an  ordinary  audience  more  self- 
possessed.  There  was  no  tremulousness  in 
his  voice  nor  manner;  nothing  hurried, 
nothing  simulated.  The  calmness  of  supe- 
rior strength  was  visible  everywhere  ;  in 
countenance,  voice,  and  bearing.  A  deep- 
seated  conviction  of  the  extraordinary 
character  of  the  emergency,  and  of  his 
ability  to  control  it,  seemed  to  jwssess  him 
wholly.  If  an  observer,  more  than  ordi- 
narily keen-sighted,  detected  at  times 
something  like  exultation  in  his  eye,  he 
presumed  it  sprang  from  the  excitement  of 
the  moment,  and  the  anticipation  of 
victory. 

The  anxiety  to  hear  the  speech  was  so 
intense,  irrepressible,  and  universal,  that 
no  sooner  had  the  A'ice-president  assumed 
the  chair,  than  a  motion  was  made  and 
unanimously  carried,  to  postpone  the  ordi- 
nary preliminaries  of  senatorial  action,  and 
to  take  up  immediately  the  consideration 
of  the  resolution. 

Mr.  Webster  rose  and  addressed  the 
senate.  His  exordium  is  known  b}'  heart 
everywhere :  "  Mr.  President,  when  the 
mariner  lias  been  tossed,  for  many  days,  in 
thick  weather,  and  on  an  unknown  sea,  he 
naturally  avails  himself  of  the  first  pause 
in  the  storm,  the  earliest  glance  of  the 
sun,  to  take  his  latitude,  and  ascertain  how 
far  the  elements  have  driven  him  from  his 
true  course.  Let  us  imitate  this  prudence ; 
and  before  we  float  further,  on  the  waves 
of  this  debate,  refer  to  the  point  from 
which  we  departed,  that  we  may,  at  least, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


301 


be  al)lo  to  form  some  conjecture  where  we 
now  ;irc.  I  ask  for  the  reading  of  the  res- 
ohition."  Calm,  resolute,  impressive,  was 
this  opening  utterance. 

There  wanted  no  more  to  enchain  the 
attention.  There  was  a  spontaneous, 
though  silent,  expression  of  eager  approba- 
tion, as  the  orator  concluded  these  opening 
remarks.  And  while  the  clerk  read  the 
resolution,  manj'  attempted  the  impossibil- 
ity of  getting  nearer  the  speaker.  Every 
head  was  inclined  closer  towards  him, 
every  ear  turned  in  the  direction  of  his 
voice — and  that  deep,  sudden,  mysterious 
silence  followed,  which  always  attends  full- 
ness of  emotion.  From  the  sea  of  up- 
turned faces  before  him,  the  orator  beheld 
his  thoughts  reflected  as  from  a  mirror. 
The  varying  countenance,  the  suffused  eye, 
the  earnest  smile,  and  ever-attentive  look, 
assured  him  of  the  intense  interest  excited. 
If,  among  his  hearers,  there  were  those 
who  affected  at  first  an  indifference  to  his 
glowing  thoughts  and  fervent  periods,  the 
difficult  mask  was  soon  laid  aside,  and 
profound,  undisguised,  devoted   attention 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

followed.  In  truth,  all,  sooner  or  later, 
voluntarily,  or  in  spite  of  themselves,  were 
wholly  carried  away  b}'  the  spell  of  such 
unexampled  forensic  eloquence. 

Those  who  had  doubted  Mr.  Webster's 
ability    to    cope    with    and    overcome    his 


opponents  were  fully  satisfied  of  their 
error  before  he  had  jiroceedcd  far  in  his 
speech.  Their  fears  soon  took  another 
direction.  AVhen  they  heard  his  sentences 
of  powerful  thought,  towering  in  accumu- 
lative grandeur,  one  above  the  other,  as 
if  the  orator  strove.  Titan-like,  to  reach 
the  very  heavens  themselves,  they  were 
giddy  with  an  apprehension  that  he  would 
break  down  in  his  flight.  They  dared  not 
believe,  that  genius,  learning, — any  intel- 
lectual endowment,  however  uncommon, 
that  was  simply  mortal,  —  could  sustain 
itself  long  in  a  career  seemingly  so  jjeril- 
ous.     They  feared  an  Icarian  fall. 

No  one,  surely,  could  ever  forget,  who 
was  pi'esent  to  hear,  the  tremendous — the 
awful — burst  of  eloquence  with  which  the 
orator  apostrophized  the  old  Bay  State 
which  Mr.  Haj'ne  had  so  derided,  or  the 
tones  of  deep  pathos  in  which  her  defense 
was  pronounced :  "  Mr.  President,  I  shall 
enter  on  no  encomium  upon  Massachusetts. 
There  she  is — behold  her  and  judge  for 
yourselves.  There  is  her  historj- ;  the 
world  knows  it  by  heart.  The  past,  at 
least,  is  secure.  There  is  Boston,  and 
Concord,  and  Lexington,  and  Bunker  Hill, 
—  and  there  they  will  remain  forever. 
The  bones  of  her  sons,  falling  in  the  great 
struggle  for  independence,  now  lie  min- 
gled with  the  soil  of  every  state,  from  New 
England  to  Georgia ;  and  there  they  will 
lie  forever.  And,  sir,  where  American 
liberty  raised  its  first  voice,  and  where  its 
youth  was  nurtured  and  sustained,  there  it 
still  lives,  in  the  strength  of  its  manhood 
and  full  of  its  original  spirit.  If  discord 
and  disunion  shall  wound  it  —  if  party- 
strife  and  blind  ambition  shall  hawk  at 
and  tear  it — if  folly  and  madness — if  uneas- 
iness under  salutary  and  necessary  re- 
straint,— shall  succeed  to  separate  it  from 
that  Union,  by  which  alone  its  existence 
is  made  sure,  it  will  stand,  in  the  end,  by 
the  side  of  that  cradle  in  which  its  infancy 
was  rocked :  it  will  stretch  forth  its  arm 
with  whatever  of  vigor  it  may  still  retain, 
over  the  friends  who  gather  round  it ;  and 
it  will  fall  at  last,  if  fall  it  must,  amidst 
the  proudest  monuments  of  its  own  glory. 


302 


OUK  FIKST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


and  on  the  very  spot  of  its  origin."'  Ko 
New  England  heart  but  throbbed  with 
vehement,  absorbed,  irrepressible  emotion, 
as  Mr.  Webster  tlius  dwelt  upon  New 
England  sutferings,  New  England  strug- 
gles, and  New  England  triumphs,  during 
the  war  of  the  revolution.  Tiiere  was 
scarcely  a  dry  eye  in  the  senate;  all  hearts 
were  overcome  ;  grave  judges,  and  men 
grown  old  in  dignified  life,  turned  aside 
their  heads,  to  conceal  the  evidences  of 
their  emotion. 

In  one  corner  of  the  gallery  was  clus- 
tered a  group  of  Massachusetts  men. 
They  had  hung  from  the  first  moment 
upon  the  words  of  the  speaker,  with  feel- 
ings variously  but  always  warmly  excited, 
deepening  in  intensity  as  he  ])rocceded. 
At  first,  while  the  orator  was  going 
through  his  exordium,  they  held  their 
breath  and  hid  their  faces,  mindful  of  the 
fierce  attack  upon  him  and  New  England, 
and  the  fearful  odds  against  any  one 
standing  up  as  a  champion  of  the  latter; 
as  he  went  deeper  into  his  speech,  they 
felt  easier;  when  he  turned  Hayne's  flank 
on  "  Banquo's  ghost" — that  famous  rhe- 
torical figure  used  by  the  South  Carolinian, 
—  they  breathed  freer  and  fuller.  L'ut 
anon,  as  he  alluded  to  Massachusetts,  their 
feelings  were  strained  to  tlio  utmost  ten- 
sion ;  a;id  when  the  senator,  concluding 
his  passages  upon  the  hind  of  their  birth, 
turned,  intentionally  or  otherwise,  his 
burning  eye  upon  them,  tears  were  falling 
like  rain  adowa  their  cheeks. 

No  one  wh  >  was  nut  present  can  under- 
stand the  excitement  of  the  scene.  No 
one,  who  v/as,  can  give  an  adequate  de- 
scription of  it.  No  word-painting  can 
convey  the  deep,  intense  enthusiasm, — the 
reverential  attention,  of  that  vast  assem- 
bly,— nor  limner  transfer  to  canvas  their 
earnest,  eager,  awe-struck  countenances. 
Though  language  were  as  subtle  and  flex- 
ible as  thought,  it  still  would  be  impossi- 
ble to  represent  the  full  idea  of  the  occa- 
sion. 

Much  of  the  instantaneous  effect  fif  the 
speech  arose,  of  course,  from  the  orator's 
delivery — the  tones  of  his  voice,  his  coun- 


tenance, and  manner.  These  die  mostly 
with  the  Occasion  ;  they  can  only  be 
described  in  general  terms.  ''  Of  the 
effectiveness  of  Mr.  Webster's  manner,  in 
many  parts,"  says  Mr.  Everett,  himself 
almost  without  a  peer,  as  an  orator,  "  it 
would  be  in  vain  to  attemj)t  to  give  any 
one  not  present  the  faintest  idea.  It  has 
been  my  fortune  to  hear  some  of  the  ablest 
si>eeches  of  the  greatest  living  orators  on 
both  sides  of  the  water,  but  I  must  confess 
I  never  heard  anything  which  so  com- 
pletely realized  my  conception  of  what 
Demosthenes  was  when  he  delivered  the 
Oration  for  the  Crown."  There  could  be 
no  higher  praise  than  this.  Kean  nor 
Kemble,  nor  any  other  masterly  delineator 
of  the  human  passions,  ever  produced  a 
more  powerful  impression  upon  an  audi- 
ence, or  swayed  so  completely  their  hearts. 

No  one  ever  looked  the  orator,  as  he  did, 
— in  form  and  feature  how  like  a  god  !  His 
countenance  spake  no  less  audibly-  than  his 
words.  His  manner  gave  new  force  to  his 
language.  As  lie  stood  swaying  his  right 
arm,  like  a  huge  tilt-hammer,  up  and 
down,  his  swar'Jiy  countenance  lighted  up 
with  excitement,  he  api)eared  amid  the 
smoke,  the  fire,  the  thunder  of  his  elo- 
quence, like  Vulcan  in  his  armory  forging 
thoughts  for  the  gods !  Time  had  i:ot 
thinned  nor  bleached  his  hair;  it  was  as 
dark  as  the  raven's  jdumage,  surmounting 
his  massive  brow  in  ample  Jolds.  His  eye, 
always  dark  and  deep-set,  enkindled  by 
some  glowing  thought,  shone  from  beneath 
his  somber,  overhanging  brow  like  lights, 
in  the  blackness  of  night,  from  a  sepul- 
chre. No  one  understood,  better  than  INIr. 
AVebster,  the  philosophy  of  dress; — what  a 
powerful  auxiliary  it  is  to  speech  and 
manner,  when  harmonizing  with  them. 
On  this  occasion  he  appeared  in  a  blue 
coat,  a  buff  vest,  Hack  pants,  and  white 
cravat,  a  costume  strikingly  in  keeping 
with  his  face  and  expression. 

The  human  face  iiever  wcn-e  an  expres- 
sion of  more  withering,  relentless  scorn, 
than  when  the  orator  replied  to  Hayne's 
allusion  to  the  "  murdered  coalition," — a 
piece    of    stale    political    trumpery,    Avell 


GREAT  AND  MEMORAl'.LE  EVENTS. 


understood  at  that  day.  "  It  is,"  said  ^Ir. 
Webster,  "  the  very  cast-off  slougli  of  a 
polhited  and  shameless  i)ress.  Incapahh.' 
of  furtlier  niiseliief,  it  lies  in  the  sewer, 
lifeless  and  despised.  It  is  not  now,  sir, 
in  the  power  of  the  honorahle  member  to 
give  it  dignity  or  deeenc}-,  by  attenqding 
to  elevate  it,  and  introduce  it  into  the 
senate.  He  cannol:  chani'e  it  fronj  what 
it  is — an  object  of  general  disgust  and 
scorn.  On  tlie  contraiy,  the  contact,  if  he 
choose  to  touch  it,  is  more  likely  to  di'ag 
him  down,  down  to  the  place  where  it  lies 
itself ! "  lie  looked,  as  he  spoke  these 
words,  as  if  the  thing  he  alluded  to  was 
too  mean  for  scorn  itself,  and  the  sliar[), 
stinging  enunciation,  made  the  words  still 
more  scathing.  The  audience  seemed 
relieved, — so  crushing  was  the  ex[)ressiou 
of  his  face  which  they  held  on  to,  as  'twere, 
spell-bound,  —  when  he  turned  to  other 
topics. 

But  the  good-natured  yet  provoking 
irony  with  which  he  described  the  imagin- 
ary thougli  life-like  scene  of  direct  collision 
between  the  marshaled  army  of  South 
Carolina  under  General  H.iyne  on  the  o:ie 
side,  and  the  officers  of  the  United  States 
on  the  other,  nettled  his  ojtponent  even 
more  than  his  severer  satire;  it  seemed  so 
ridiculously  true.  AVith  his  true  Southern 
blood,  Ilayne  inquired,  with  some  degree 
of  emotion,  if  the  gentleman  from  Massa- 
chusetts intended  any  persoiKil  imputation 
by  such  remarks  ?  To  which  Mr.  Web- 
ster replied,  with  perfect  good  humor, 
"Assuredly  not — just  the  rcucrsal" 

The  variety  of  incident  during  the 
speech,  and  the  rapid  fluctuation  of  pas- 
sions, kept  the  audience  in  continual 
expectation,  and  ceaseless  agitation.  The 
speech  was  a  complete  drama  of  serious, 
comic,  and  pathetic  scenes ;  and  though  a 
large  portion  of  it  was  strictly  argumenta- 
tive— an  exposition  of  constitutional  law, 
— yet,  grave  as  such  portion  necessarily 
must  be,  severely  logical,  and  abounding 
in  no  fancy  or  episode,  it  engrossed, 
throughout,  undivid(;d  attention. 

Tlie  swell  of  Iks  voice  and  its  solemn 
roll  struck  upon  the  ears  of  the  enraptured 


audience,  in  deep  and  thrilling  cadence,  as 
waves  ujion  the  shore  of  the  far-resound- 
ing sea.  The  Miltonic  grandeur  of  his 
words  was  the  lit  expression  of  his  great 
thoughts,  and  raised  his  hearers  uj)  to  his 
theme  ;  and  his  voice,  exerted  to  its  utmost 
power,  penetrated  every  recess  or  corner 
of  the  senate — jienetrated  even  the  ante- 
rooms and  stairway's,  as,  in  closing,  he 
pronounced  in  deejjest  tones  of  pathos 
these  words  of  solemn  significance: 
"AVlien  my  eyes  shall  be  turiie(l  lolichold, 
for  the  last  time,  the  i^un  in  heaven,  nuiy 
I  not  see  him  shining  on  the  liroken  and 
dislionored  fragments  of  a  once  glorious 
Union  ;  on  states  dissevered,  discordant, 
belligerent;  on  a  land  rent  with  civil 
feuds,  or  drenched,  it  may  be,  in  fraternal 
blood!  Let  their  last  feeble  and  lingering 
glance  rather  behold  the  gorgeous  ensign 
of  the  republic,  now  known  and  honored 
throughout  the  earth,  still  full  high 
advanced,  its  arms  and  trojihies  streaming 
in  their  original  luster,  not  a  stripe  erased 
nor  polluted,  not  a  single  star  obscured, 
bearing  for  its  motto  no  such  miserable 
interrogatory  as,  "  What  is  all  this  worth  ?" 
— nor  those  other  words  of  delusion  and 
folly,  "  Liberty  first  and  Union  after- 
wards :  "  but  everywhere,  spread  all  over 
in  characters  of  living  light,  Idazing  on  all 
its  ample  folds,  as  they  float  over  the  sea 
and  over  the  land,  and  in  every  wind 
under  the  whole  heavens,  that  other  senti- 
ment, dear  to  every  American  heart, 
"Lii;ei:ty  axd   Uniox,  now   and   fui:- 

EVEU,   ONE  AND   INSErAKAlJLE  !  " 

The  sjieech  was  over,  but  the  to::es  of 
the  orator  still  lingered  upon  the  ear,  and 
the  audience,  unconscious  of  the  close, 
retained  their  ])Ositions.  Hverywhere 
around  seemed  forgetfulness  of  all  but  the 
orator's  presence  and  words.  There  never 
was  a  deeper  stillness;  silence  could  almost 
have  heard  itself,  it  was  so  supernaturally 
still.  The  feeling  was  too  overpowering, 
to  allow  expression  by  voice  or  hand.  It 
was  as  if  one  was  in  a  trance,  all  motion 
paralyzed.  But  the  descending  hammer 
of  the  chair  awoke  them,  wi;h  a  start  ;  and 
with     one     universal,    long    drawn,    deep 


304 


OUR  FIRST  CEXTUEY.— 1776-1876. 


WEBSTER'S  REPLY  TO  HAYSTE. 


breath,  with  which  the  overcharged  heart 
seeks  relief,  the  crowded  assembly  broke 
up  and  departed. 

New  England  men  walked  down  Penn- 
sylvania avenue  that  daj^,  after  the  sj^eech, 
with  a  firmer  step  and  bolder  air — '  pride 
in  their  port,  defiance  in  their  eye.'  They 
devoured  the  way  in  their  stride.  They 
looked  every  one  in  the  face  they  met, 
fearing  no  contradiction.  They  swarmed 
in  the  streets,  having  become  miraculously 
multitudinous.  They  clustered  in  i)arties 
and  fought  the  scene  over  one  hundred 
times  that  night.  Their  elation  was 
the  greater,  by  reaction.  Not  one  of 
them  but  felt  he  had  gained  a  personal 
victory. 

In  the  evening,  General  Jackson  held  a 
presidential  levee  at  the  White  House.  It 
was  known,  in  a<lvance,  that  Mr.  Webster 
would  attend  it,  and  hardly  had  the  hos- 
pitable doors  of  the  mansion  been  thrown 
open,  when  the  crowd  that  had  filled  the 
senate-chamber  in  the  morning  rushed  in 


and  occupied  the  rooms,  leaving  a  vast 
and  increasing  crowd  at  the  entrance. 
On  all  previous  occasions,  the  general 
himself  had  been  the  observed  of  all 
observers.  His  receptions  were  always 
gladly  attended  by  large  numbers ;  and 
to  these  he  himself  was  always  the  chief 
object  of  attraction,  on  account  of  his 
great  military  and  personal  rei:)utation, 
official  position,  gallant  bearing,  and 
courteous  manners. 

But  on  this  occasion,  the  room  in  which 
he  received  his  company  was  deserted,  as 
soon  as  courtesy  to  the  president  permitted. 
Mr.  AVebster  Avas  in  the  East  Eoom,  and 
thither  the  whole  mass  hurried.  He  stood 
almost  in  the  center  of  the  room,  pressed 
upon  by  surging  crowds,  eager  to  pay  him 
deference.  Hayne,  too,  was  there,  and,with 
others, went  up  and  complimented  Mr.  Web- 
ster on  his  brilliant  effort.  In  a  subsequent 
meeting  between  the  two  rival  debaters, 
Webster  challenged  Hayne  to  drink  a  glass 
of  wine  with  him,  saying,  as  he  did  so, — 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


305 


"  General  Hayne,  I  drink  to  your  health, 
and  I  hope  that  you  may  live  a  thousand 
years. " 

"  I  shall  not  live  more  than  one  hundred, 
if  you  make  another  such  speech,"  Hayne 
replied. 

To  this  day,  Wehster's  speech  is  re- 
garded as  tlie  masterpiece  of  modern  elo- 
quence,— unsurpassed  hy  even  the  might- 
iest efforts  of  Pitt,  Fox,  or  Burke, —  a 
matchless  intellectual  achievement  and 
complete  forensic  triumph.  It  was  to  this 
great  and  triumphant  effort,  that  Mr. 
Webster's  subsequent  matchless  fame  as  a 
statesman  was  due;  and,  that  he  was 
equal  to  comprehending  tlie  true  principles 
of  international,  as  well  as  those  of  inter- 
nal, justice  and  policy,  is  abundantly 
proved  by  his  diplomacy  with  Great  Brit- 
ain, to  which  the  highest  credit  is  awarded 
by  Eliot,  the  accomplished  historian,  in  his 
concise  and  admirable  review  of  public 
affairs  during  this  period.  An  insurrec- 
tion (says  Mr.  Eliot)  having  broken  out 
in  Canada,  it  was  immediately  supported 
by  American  parties,  the  insurgents  being 
in  favor  of  reform  or  independence.  One 
of  these  American  parties,  in  company 
with  some  Canadian  refugees,  after  pillag- 
ing the  New  York  arsenals,  seized  upon 
Navy  Island,  a  British  possession  in  the 
Niagara  river.  Mr.  Marcy  was  governor 
of  New  York  at  this  time.  The  steamer 
Caroline,  engaged  in  bringing  over  men, 
arms,  and  stores  to  the  island,  was  de- 
stroyed, though  at  the  time  on  the  Ameri- 
can shore,  by  a  Britsh  detachment.  The 
deed  was  instantly  avowed  by  the  minister 
of  Great  Britain  at  Washington  as  an  act 
of  self-defense  on  the  British  side.  One 
of  the  chief  characters  in  these  exciting 
movements  was  William  M'Kenzie.  In 
November,  1840,  one  Alexander  M'Leod, 


sheriff  of  Niagara,  in  Canada,  and  as  such 
a  participator  in  the  destruction  of  the 
Caroline,  was  arrested  in  New  York  on 
the  charge  of  murder,  an  American  having 
lost  his  life  when  the  steamer  was  de- 
stroyed. The  British  government  de- 
manded his  release,  in  doing  which  they 
were  sustained  by  the  United  States 
administration,  on  the  ground  that  M'Leod 
was  but  an  agent  or  soldier  of  Great  Brit- 
But   the    authorities  of  New  York 


ain 


held  fast  to  their  prisoner,  and  brought 
him  to  trial.  Had  harm  come  to  him,  his 
government  stood  pledged  to  declare  war ; 
but  he  was  acquitted  for  want  of  proof. 
Tlie  release  of  M'Leod  did  not,  however, 
settle  the  affair  of  the  Caroline  ;  this  still 
remained.  There  were,  or  there  had  been, 
other  difficulties  also, — namely,  upon  the 
Maine  frontier,  where  the  boundary-line 
had  never  yet  been  run.  Collisions  took 
place,  between  the  Maine  militia  and  the 
British  troops,  and  others  had  been  but 
just  prevented.  On  Mr.  Webster's  acces- 
sion to  the  state  department,  our  govern- 
ment proposed,  through  Mr.  Webster,  to 
the  British  cabinet,  to  take  up  the  north- 
eastern boundary  question.  The  offer  was 
accepted  by  the  British,  who  sent,  as  spe- 
cial envoy.  Lord  Ashburton,  to  whom  was 
committed  the  boundary  and  other  contro- 
verted questions.  The  consultations  be- 
tween Mr.  Webster  and  Lord  Ashburton 
led  to  a  treaty  which  settled  the  boundary, 
put  down  the  claim  to  visit  our  vessels, 
and  provided  for  the  mutual  surrender  of 
fugitives  from  justice.  For  the  affair  of 
the  Caroline,  an  apology  was  made  by 
Great  Britain. 

The  fame  of  Mr.  Webster,  as  an 
orator,  a  statesman,  and  an  expounder  of 
public  law,  thus  became  world-wide  and 
unrivaled. 


ao 


XXXIII. 

RISE  AXD  PROGRESS   OF  THE  MORMONS,   OR  "LATTER- 
DAY    SAINTS,"   UNDER    JOSEPH    SMITH,   THE 
"PROPHET  OF  THE  LORD."— 1830. 


His  Assunieil  Discovery  of  the  Golden  Plates  of  a  New  Bible. — Apostles  Sent  Forth  and  Converts 
Obtained  in  All  Parts  of  the  World. — Founding  and  Destruction  of  Nauvoo,  the  "  City  of  Zion." — 
Smith's  Character. — Removal  to  Utah,  the  "Promised  Land."  —  Smith  the  "Mohammed 
of  the  West." — His  Origin  and  Repute. — Pretended  Supernatural  Interviews. — Revela- 
tions of  Divine  Records. — Finds  and  Translates  Them. — Secret  History  of  this  Transaction. 
— Pronounced  to  be  a  Fraud. — Teachings  of  the  Mormon  Bible. — Smith  Claims  to  be  Inspired. — 
Announced  as  a  Second  Savior. —  Organization  of  the  First  Church. — Strange  Title  Adopted. — 
Smitli's  Great  Personal  Influence. — Rapid  Increase  of  the  Sect. — Settlement  at  the  West. — 
Violent  Opposition  to  Them. — Outrages,  Assassinations,  Riots. —  Polygamy  "Divinely"  Author- 
ized.— Smith  in  Jail  as  a  Criminal. — Is  Shot  Dead  by  a  Furious  Mob. — Brigham  Young  His  Suc- 
cessor.— The  "  New  Jerusalem." 


— "  And  with  a  piece  of  scripture 
Tell  tlieni, — that  Ooil  bids  us  do  good  for  cril. 

And  thus  I  clotlie  my  nnktd  villainy 
With  old  odd  ends,  stol'n  (orth  of  Holy  "Writ, 
And  seem  a  saint,  when  most  I  play  the  devil." 


F  the  many  oracular  predictions  indulged  in  by  trans-Atlantic  wiseacres,, 
concerning  tlie  future  of  American  history,  not  one  of  them  has  had 
so  accurate  and  remarkable  a  fulfillment  as  that  made  by  Robert 
Southe}'',  the  great  English  poet  and  historian,  in  1829,  and  which 
ran  as  follows :  "  The  next  Aaron  Burr  who  seeks  to  carve 
a  kingdom  for  himself  out  of  the  overgrown  territories  of 
^^  the  Union,  may  discern  that  fanaticism  is  the  most  effective 
weapon  with  which  ambition  can  arm  itself;  that  the  way  for 
both  is  prepared  by  that  immorality  which  the  want  of  religion  naturally  and 
necessarily  induces,  and  that  camp-meetings  may  be  very  well  directed  to  forward  the 
designs  of  military  prophets.  Were  there  another  Mohammed  to  arise,  there  is  no 
part  of  the  world  where  he  would  find  more  scope  or  fairer  opportunity  than  in  that 
part  of  the  Anglo-American  Union  into  which  the  older  states  continually  discharge  the 
restless  part  of  their  poptilation,  leaving  laws  and  Gospel  to  overtake  it  if  they  can,  for 
in  the  march  of  modern  civilization  both  are  left  behind."  This  prophecy  was  uttered 
long  before  even  the  name  of  'Mormon'  had  been  heard  in  the  west,  and,  bating  the 
hermit-poet's  very  natural  fling  at  camp-meetings,  and  his  English  cant  about  American 
immorality,  is  worthy  of  a  seer. 


GKEAT  AND  MEINIOIIABLE  EVENTS. 


307 


Joseph  Smith,  tlie  Mohammed  of  tlie 
West, — founder  of  the  sect  called  Mor- 
mons, or  Latter-Day  Saints, — was  born  in 
Sharon,  Vermont,  December  23,  1805,  and 
met  a  violent  death  at  Carthage,  Illinois, 
in  his  thirty-ninth  year.  In  1815,  he  re- 
moved with  his  father  to  Palmyra,  New 
York,  and  here  they  sustained  an  unen- 
viable reputation,  for  idleness,  intemper- 
ance, dishonesty,  and  other  immoralities. 
Joseph  was  especially  obnoxious  in  these 
respects  ;  and,  having  never  received  any 
education,  he  could  scarcely  so  much  as 
read  and  write  when  he  had  attained  to 
manhood,  and  whatever  he  put  forth  to  the 
world,  under  his  own  name,  was  written 
or  composed  by  another  hand. 

According  to  his  own  account  of  him- 
self, his  mind  was  at  a  very  early  age 
exercised  religiously,  and,  on  the  evening 
of  September  21st,  when  he  was  but 
eighteen  years  old,  the  angel  Moroni — a 
glorious  being  from  Heaven  —  appeared 
before  him,  as  a  messenger  from  the 
Lord,  instructing  him  in  the  secret  pur- 
poses of  the  Most  High,  and  announcing 
the  divine  will  to  be  that  he,  Smith, 
should  become  a  spiritual  leader  and  com- 
mander to  the  nations  of  the  earth.  He 
was  also  told  that  there  was  a  bundle  of 
golden  or  metallic  plates  deposited  in  a 
hill  in  Manchester,  New  York  (to  which 
place  Smith  had  removed  in  1819),  which 
plates  contained  some  lost  biblical  records, 
and  with  which  were  two  transparent 
stones,  set  in  the  rim  of  a  bow  of  silver, 
which  were  anciently  known  as  the  Urini 
and  Thummim ;  by  looking  through  these 
stones,  he  could  see  the  strange  characters 
on  the  plates  translated  into  plain  English. 
These  plates  were  about  eight  inches  long 
by  seven  wide,  and  a  little  thinner  than 
ordinary  tin,  and  were  bound  together  by 
three  rings  running  through  the  whole. 
Altogether  they  were  about  six  inches 
thick,  and  were  neatly  engraved  on  each 
side  with  hieroglyphics  in  a  language 
called  the  Reformed  Egyptian,  not  then 
known  on  the  earth.  From  these  plates. 
Smith,  sitting  behind  a  blanket  hung 
across  the  room  to  keep  the  sacred  records 


from  profane  eyes,  read  off,  through  the 
transparent  stones,  the  "  l->ook  of  Mor- 
mon," or  Golden  Bible,  to  Oliver  Cowdery,, 
who  wrote  it  down  as  Smith  read  it.  It 
was  printed  in  18o(),  in  a  volume  of 
several  hundred  pages.  Appended  to  it 
was  a  statement  signed  by  Oliver  Cow- 
dery, David  Whitmer,  and  Martin  Harris, 
who  had  become  professed  believers  in 
Smith's  supernatural  pretensions,  and  are 
called  by  the  Mormons,  the  "three  wit- 
nesses." In  after  years,  however,  these 
witnesses  quarreled  with  Smith,  renounced 
Mormonism,  and  avowed  the  falsity  of 
their  testimony. 

It  is  charged  by  the  opponents  of 
Smith,  that  the  book  in  question  was  not 
the  production  of  Smith,  in  any  wise,  but 
of  the  Rev.  Solomon  Spalding,  who  wrote 
it  as  a  sort  of  romance,  and  that  it  was 
seen  and  stolen  by  Sidney  Eigdon,  after- 
wards Smith's  right-hand  man.  Spalding 
had  become  involved  in  his  pecuniary 
affairs,  and  wrote  this  work,  intending  to 
have  it  printed  and  published,  and  with 
the  proceeds  to  pay  his  debts.  The  book 
was  entitled  ''Manuscript  Found."  It 
was  an  historical  romance  of  the  first  set- 
tlers of  America,  endeavoring  to  show  that 
the  American  Indians  are  the  descendants 
of  the  Jews  or  the  lost  tribes.  It  gave  a 
detailed  account  of  their  journey  from 
Jerusalem,  by  land  and  sea,  till  they 
arrived  in  America  under  the  command  of 
Nephi  and  Lehi.  Thej^  afterward  had 
quarrels  and  contentions,  and  separated 
into  two  distinct  nations,  one  of  which  he 
denominated  Nephites  and  the  other  Lam- 
anites.  Cruel  and  bloody  wars  ensued,  in 
which  great  multitudes  were  slain.  They 
buried  their  dead  in  large  heaps,  which 
caused  the  mounds,  so  common  in  this 
country.  Their  arts,  sciences,  and  civiliz- 
ation were  brought  into  view,  in  order  to 
account  for  all  the  curious  antiquities, 
found  in  various  parts  of  North  and  South 
America.  Abundant  testimony  was  ad- 
duced from  the  wife,  brother,  and  business 
partner  of  Spalding,  to  whom  portions  of 
the  work  had  been  read  while  it  was  in 
course  of    preparation,  proving   that   the 


308 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Mormon  bible  was  made  up  of  identically 
the  same  matter,  combined  with  portions 
of  the  true  Scrijiture.  Mr.  Spalding's 
business  partner,  Mr.  Miller,  testified  on 
oath  as  follows : 

'I  have  recently  examined  the  Book  of 
Mormon,  and  find  in  it  the  writings  of 
Solomon  Spalding,  from  beginning  to  end, 
but  mixed  up  with  Scripture  and  other 
religious  matter,  which  I  did  not  meet  in 
the  'Manuscript  Found.'  Many  of  the 
passages  in  the  Mormon  book  are  verbatim 
from  Spalding,  and  others  in  part.  The 
Dames  of  Nephi,  Lehi,  Moroni,  and  in 
fact  all  the  principal  names,  are  brought 
fresh  to  my  recollection  by  the  gold  bible.' 

Mr.  Spalding  wrote  his  manuscript  in 
1812;  he  afterwards  removed  to  Pitts- 
burg, Pennsj'lvania,  where  he  died  in 
1816.  His  manuscript  remained  in  the 
printing-office  a  long  time,  and  in  this 
office  Rigdon  was  a  workman.  There  is 
the  best  evidence,  therefore,  that  the 
so-called  Mormon  bible  had  for  its  basis 
tlie  matter  contained  in  Mr.  Sj^alding's 
work.  Rigdon,  however,  had  at  first  no 
open  connection  with  Smith,  and  was  con- 
verted by  a  special  mission  sent  into  his 
neighborhood  m  1830.  From  the  time  of 
Rigdon's  conversion,  the  progress  of  Mor- 
monism  was  wonderfully  rapid,  he  being  a 
man  of  more  than  common  cunning  and 
capacity.  It  may  be  of  interest  here  to 
state,  that  a  transcript  on  paper,  of  one  of 
the  golden  plates,  having  been  submitted 
to  Prof.  Charles  Anthon,  of  New  York, 
for  his  inspection,  that  eminent  scholar 
gave,  as  his  statement,  that  the  paper  was 
in  fact  a  kind  of  singular  scroll,  consisting 
of  all  kinds  of  crooked  characters,  disposed 
in  columns,  and  had  evidently  been  pre- 
pared by  some  person  who  had  before  him 
at  the  time  a  book  containing  various 
alphabets,  Greek,  and  Hebrew  letters, 
crosses  and  flourishes  ;  Roman  letters,  in- 
verted or  placed  sideways,  were  arranged 
and  placed  in  perpendicular  columns;  and 
the  whole  ended  in  a  rude  delineation  of 
a  circle,  divided  into  various  compartments, 
decked  with  various  strange  marks,  and 
evidently  copied  after  the  Mexican  calen- 


dar given   by   Humboldt,   bat    copied  in 
such  a  way  as  not  to  betray  the  source. 

The  Mormon  theology  teaches  that 
there  is  one  God,  the  Eternal  Father,  his 
son,  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  Holy  Ghost ; 
that  men  will  be  punished  for  their  own 
sins,  and  not  for  Adam's  transgressions  ; 
that  through  the  atonement  of  Christ,  all 
mankind  may  be  saved  by  obedience  to 
the  laws  and  ordinances  of  the  gospel, 
these  ordinances  being  faith  in  the 
Lord  Jesus,  repentance,  baptism  by  im- 
mersion for  the  remission  of  sins,  lay- 
ing on  of  hands  by  the  gift  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  the  Lord's  Supper ;  that  man 
must  be  called  of  God  by  inspiration,  and 


by  laying  on  of  hands  from  those  who 
are  duly  commissioned  to  preach  the  gospel 
and  administer  the  ordinances  thereof ; 
that  the  same  organization  that  existed 
in  the  primitive  church,  viz.,  apostles, 
projihets,  pastors,  evangelists,  etc.,  should 
be  maintained  now ;  that  the  powers 
and  gifts  of  faith,  discerning  of  spirits, 
prophecy,  revelations,  visions,  healing, 
tongues,  and  the  interpretation  of  tongues, 
still  exist ;  that  the  word  of  God  is 
recorded  in  the  Bible,  and  in  the  Book  of 
Mormon,  and  in  all  other  good  books ; 
that  there  are  now  being  revealed,  and 
will  continue  to  be  revealed,  many  more 
great  and  important  things  pertaining  to 
the  kingdom  of  God  and  Messiah's  second 
coming;  that  there  is  to  be  a  literal 
gatliering  of  Israel,  and  the  restoration  of 
the   ten    tribes ;  that  Zion  will  be  estab- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


301) 


lished  upon   the  western  continent;    tliat 
Christ     will    reign     personally    upon     the 
earth    a    thousand    3'ears,    and   the    earth 
will  be  renewed  and  receive  its  paradisiacal 
glory  ;  that  there  is  to  hv  u   literal  resur- 
rection of    the     body,    and   that     the  rest 
of    the    dead    live    not    again    until    the 
thousand   years    have    expired ;    that   the 
privilege    belongs    to    all,    of    unmolested 
worship  of  God,  according  to    the  dictates 
of  conscience  ;  tliat   all    persons  are  to  be 
subject  to  kings,  queens,  presidents,  rulers, 
and  magistrates,  in  obeying,  honoring,  and 
sustaining  the  law  ;  that  God,  having  be- 
come nearly  lost  to  man,  revived  his  work, 
by  revealing  himself  to  Joseph  Smith,  and 
conferring  upon  him  the  keys  of  the  ever- 
lasting priesthood,  thus  making  him   the 
mediator  of  a  new  dispensation,  which  is 
immediatel}'^  to  precede  the  second  coming 
of  Christ ;  that  all  those  who  recognize  the 
divine   authority  of    Smith,  and    are  bap- 
tized  by  one    having   authority,   are   the 
chosen   people  of  God,  who  are   to  intro- 
duce the  millennium,  and    to  reign   with 
Christ,  on  the  earth,  a  thousand  years.     The 
doctrine  of  direct  revelation  from  Heaven 
was  at  first  applied  in  a  general  sense,  and 
any  one  firm  in  the  faith,  and  who  stood 
high  in   the  church,  received  visions  and 
revelations.     But  this  soon  became  trouble- 
some,— the  revelations  often  clashed  with 
each  other  and  led  to  many  annoyances, 
and    the    power    of    receiving    revelations 
was  therefore,  in  course  of  time,  confined 
to  the   presidency,  in  whom  the  supreme 
authority  of  the  church  rests.     This  presi- 
dency consists  of    the   president  and    his 
two    counselors ;     the    First  President  is, 
however,  supreme,  and  there  is  no  resist- 
ance to  his  decrees.     Next  in  authority  in 
the  church  is   the  apostolic  college,  which 
is  composed  of  twelve  apostles,  who  form 
a  kind  of  ecclesiastical  senate,  but  a  por- 
tion of  them    are   generally   on   missions, 
taking  charge  of  the  different  branches  of 
the  church  in   other    parts   of    the  world. 
After  these    come  the  high  priests,  who, 
together    with    the     elders,     compose    the 
body  politic  of  the  church,  whose  duty  it 
is  to  carry  out  and  enforce  its  decrees  and 


regulations.  These  high  priests  and  elders 
are  divideil  into  societies,  called  quorums 
of  seventies,  and  every  quorum  preserves 
on  its  records  a  complete  genealogy  of 
each  of  its  members. 

Among  the  dignitaries  of  the  church, 
the  patriarch  stands  eminent.  He  holds 
his  office  for  life ;  all  other  stations  are 
filled  with  candidates  nominated  by  the 
presidency  and  elected  annually  in  con- 
vention by  the  body  of  the  church.  The 
bishops  also  are  conspicuous  and  important 
officers,  for  it  is  their  duty  to  collect  the 
tithing,  to  inspect  once  a  week  every 
family  in  their  ward  or  district,  and  to 
examine  strictly  into  their  temporal  and 
sjiiritual  affairs.  In  order  to  do  this  more 
thoroughly,  each  bishop  is  assisted  by  two 
counselors.  The  bishop  also  adjudicates 
and  settles  all  difficulties  occurring  be- 
tween persons  residing  in  his  ward,  though 
from  his  decision  an  appeal  can  be  made 
to  the  high  council.  This  is  a  tribunal 
consisting  of  fifteen  men  selected  from 
among  the  high  priests,  twelve  of  whom 
sit  as  jurors  and  hear  the  testimony  of 
witnesses  in  the  case,  and  then  by  voting 
make  a  decision — a  majority  on  one  side 
or  the  other  deciding  the  question ;  the 
i-omaining  three,  as  judges,  render  judg- 
ment as  to  the  costs  or  punishment.  From 
this  court  the  only  appeal  is  to  the  presi- 
denc3\ 

The  first  regularly  constituted  church 
of  the  Mormon  faith  was  organized  in 
Manchester,  N.  Y.,  April  sixth,  1830,  and 
from  this  time  and  event  dates  the  Mor- 
mon era.  It  began  with  six  members  or 
elders  being  ordained,  viz.,  Joseph  Smith, 
sen.,  Hyrum  Smith,  Joseph  Smith,  jr., 
Samuel  Smith,  Oliver  Cowdery,  Joseph 
Knight.  The  sacrament  was  adminis- 
tered, and  hands  were  laid  on  for  the  gift 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  on  this  first  occasion  in 
the  church.  The  first  public  discourse 
was  preached  by  Cowder}^,  setting  forth 
the  principles  of  the  gospel  as  revealed  to 
Smith,  April  eleventh ;  and  during  the 
same  month  the  first  miracle  was  per- 
formed, "  by  the  power  of  God,"  in  Coles- 
ville,  N.  Y. 


310 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


On  the  first  of  June,  1830,  the  first  con- 
ference of  the  church  was  held  at  Fayette, 
N.  Y.,  and  soon  after,  Messrs.  Pratt  and 
Rigdon  united  publicly  with  the  order. 
Meanwhile,  converts  multijilied  rapidl}'. 

Early  in  1831,  Smith  set  out  for  Kirt- 
land,  Ohio,  which,  for  a  time,  became  the 
chief  city  of  his  followers.  The  elders 
soon  received  command  to  go  forth  in  pairs 
and  preach,  the  Melchizedek  or  superior 
priesthood  being  first  conferred  upon  them 
in  June.  A  considerable  body  of  Mor- 
mons transferred  themselves  to  Jackson 
county,  Missouri,  in  the  summer  of  this 
year.  So  rapidly  did  their  numbers  aug- 
ment in  this  region,  that  the  older  settlers 
became  alarmed,  and  held  public  meetings 
protesting  against  the  continuance  of  tlie 
sect  in  their  neighborhood.  Among  the 
resolutions  passed  at  these  meetings  was 
one  requiring  the  Mormon  paper  to  be 
stopped,  but,  as  this  was  not  immediately 
complied  with,  the  office  of  the  paper  was 
destroyed.  Finally,  they  agreed  to  re- 
move from  that  county  into  Clay  county, 
across   the  Missouri,  before   doing  which, 


however,  houses  were  destroyed,  men 
whipped,  and  some  lives  were  lost  on  1)oth 
sides. 

These  outrages,  according  to  the  annals 
given  by  Perkins,  kindled  the  wrath  of 
the  prophet  at  Kirtland,  who  took  steps  to 
bring    about     a   great    gathering    of    his 


disciples,  and,  marshaling  them  as  an 
army,  in  May,  1834,  he  started  for  Mis- 
souri, which  in  due  time  he  reached,  but 
with  no  other  result  than  the  transfer  of  a 
certain  portion  of  his  followers  as  per- 
manent residents  in  a  section  already  too 
full  of  them.  At  first,  the  citizens  of 
Clay  county  were  friendly  to  the  perse- 
cuted ;  but  ere  long,  trouble  grew  up,  and 
the  wanderers  were  once  more  forced  to 
seek  a  new  home,  to  insure  their  safety. 
This  home  they  found  in  Caldwell  county, 
where,  by  jiermission  of  the  neighbors  and 
state  legislature,  they  organized  a  county 
government,  the  country  having  been  pre- 
viously unsettled. 

In  addition  to  the  stirring  scenes  al- 
ready recorded,  some  of  the  more  important 
events  in  the  history  and  continued  prog- 
ress of  this  sect  may  be  stated  briefly  as 
follows.  The  3'ear  1832  was  distinguished 
by  the  tarring  and  feathering  of  Smith 
and  Rigdon  by  a  mob,  for  attempting  to 
establish  communism,  and  for  alleged  dis- 
honorable dealing,  forgery,  and  swindling, 
in  connection  with  the  Kirtland  Safety 
Society  Bank,  founded  by  them ; 
the  conversion  of  Mr.  Brigham 
Young,  and  his  baptism  by  Eleazer 
Millard,  also  the  baptism  of  Mr. 
Heber  C.  Kimball ;  and  the  es- 
tablishment of  the  first  Mormon 
periodical,  by  Mr.  W.  W.  Phelps. 
In  1833,  the  gift  of  tongues 
was  conferred ;  the  re-translation 
of  the  bible  finished;  Bishop 
Partridge  became  the  ecclesias- 
tical head  of  the  church  in  Zion ; 
the  '  Missouri  Enquirer '  was  es- 
tablished by  Messrs.  Davis  and 
Kelley.  At  a  conference  of 
elders  in  Kirtland,  May  3,  1834, 
the  body  ecclesiastic  was  first 
named  "  The  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ  of  Latter-Day  Saints."  In  1835, 
a  quorum  of  twelve  apostles  was  organized, 
among  whom  were  Brigham  Young  and 
H.  C.  Kimball,  the  former,  being  then 
thirty-four  years  old,  assuming  the  head- 
ship of  the  apostolic  college,  and,  receiv- 
ing  the    gift  of    tongues,  was  sent  on    a 


GEEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


311 


missionar}'  tour  toward  the  east.  Young 
was  so  devoted  a  disciple  of  Mormonisin, 
that  he  said  of  Sinitli,  its  founder : 

"The  doctrine  lie  teaches  is  all  I  know 
about  the  matter;  bring  anj'thing  against 
that,  if  you  can.  As  to  anything  else,  I 
do  not  care  if  he  acts  like  a  devil ;  he  has 
brought  forth  a  doctrine  that  will  save  us, 
if  we  will  abide  by  it.  lie  may  get  drunk 
every  day  of  his  life,  sleep  with  his  neigh- 
bor's wife  every  night,  run  horses  and 
gamble ;  I  do  not  care  anything  about 
that,  for  I  never  embrace  any  man  in  my 
faith." 

Bigdon  was  equally  bold  and  lawless  ; 
who  declared,  in  behalf  of  the  prophet  and 
his  followers,  in  a  sermon  preached  at 
Ear  West,  to  a  great  concourse, 

"  We  take  God  and  all  the  holy  angels 
to  witness  this  day,  that  we  warn  all  men, 
in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  come  on 
us  no  more  forever.  The  man,  or  the  set 
of  men,  who  attempts  it,  does  it  at  the 
expense  of  their  lives.  And  that  mob  that 
comes  on  vis  to  disturb  us,  it  shall  be 
between  them  and  us  a  Avar  of  extermina- 
tion, for  we  will  follow  them  till  the  last 
drop  of  their  blood  is  spilled,  or  else  they 
will  have  to  exterminate  us.  For  we  will 
carry  the  seat  of  war  to  their  own  houses 
and  their  own  families,  and  one  party  or 
the  other  shall  be  utterly  destroyed." 

On  the  20th  of  July,  1837,  Elders  Kim- 
ball, Hyde,  Richards,  Goodson,  Russell, 
and  Priest  Fielding,  sailed  from  New 
York  for  Liverpool,  to  preach  and  propa- 
gate Mormonism,  and  2:)roselytes  multi- 
plied, especially  in  northern  Europe,  so 
plausibly  was  Smith's  imposture  set  be- 
fore them ;  multitudes  of  these  converts, 
male  and  female,  emigrated  to  the  "  prom- 
ised land."  The  next  year  was  dis- 
tinguished by  continued  scenes  of  violence, 
attended  Avith  bloodshed  and  death,  be- 
tween the  people  of  Missouri  and  the 
Mormons,  among  the  killed  being  Captain 
Fearnot,  alias  Patten,  leader  of  the  Danite 
band.  Smith,  and  his  brother  Hyrum, 
together  with  such  kindred  spirits  as 
Young,  Phelps,  Pratt,  Hedlock,  Turley, 
Rockwell,    Higbee,    were    particularly  ob- 


noxious to  the  hatred  of  the  Missourians ; 
and,  throughout  all  the  western  states,  no 
curse  that  could  come  upon  a  neighbor- 
hood was  considered  so  great  as  that  of  the 
advent  of  Mormon  settlers. 

Early  in  the  summer  of  1839,  Smith 
visited  the  town  of  Commerce,  in  Illinois, 
at  the  invitation  of  Dr.  Isaac  Galland,  of 
whom  he  obtained,  gratis,  a  large  tract  of 
land,  to  induce  the  Mormons  to  immigrate, 
and  upon  receipt  of  revelation  called  his 
people  around  him,  and  sold  them  the 
town  lots.  This  place  was  afterward  called 
Naiivoo,  "the  beautiful  site,"  and  soon 
numbered  thousands  of  souls;  the  build- 
ing of  the  famous  temple  was  commenced 
the  next  year.  Polj'gamy  dates  from 
about  this  time,  being  authorized  as 
Smith's  privilege,  according  to  a  "revela- 
tion "  received  by  him.  Smith  was  re- 
peatedly arrested  in  1842-3-4,  on  charges 
of  murder,  treason,  and  adultery,  but 
managed  either  to  escape  or  be  acquitted, 
until  the  fatal  summer  of  1844.  The 
greatest  crimes  charged  against  him  were 
those  testified  to  by  some  of  his  once 
devoted  but  afterwards  disgusted  and 
seceding  disciples,  and  avIio  would  have 
been  glad  to  execute  summary  vengeance 
upon  his  head. 

The  exasperation  produced  by  the  Mor- 
mons murdering  Lieutenant  Governor 
Boggs  (under  Governor  Dunklin),  of  Mis- 
souri, in  May,  1843,  was  widespread  and 
most  intense,  and  the  swarming  of  the 
sect  into  Illinois,  caused  the  inhabitants  of 
the  latter  to  arm  themselves.  Governor 
Ford,  of  Illinois,  persuaded  the  Smiths, 
vinder  pledge  of  his  word,  to  j'ield  up  their 
arms,  and  sent  them  prisoners,  under 
the  charge  of  sixty  militia  men,  to  Car- 
thage. Here  the  jirisoners  were  at  once 
arrested  for  treason.  Listead  of  being 
confined  in  cells,  the  two  Smiths,  at  the 
instance  of  their  friends,  were  put  into 
the  debtors'  room  of  the  prison,  and  a 
guard  assigned  for  their  security'.  But, 
on  the  27th  of  June,  1844,  a  large  body 
of  exasperated  and  lawless  men,  with  their 
faces  painted  and  blackened,  broke  into 
the  jail,  and  summarily  killed  both  Joseph 


312 


OUK,  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


and  Hyrum  Smith,  and.  instantly  fled.  In 
his  struggle  against  the  mob,  the  prophet 
attempted,  as  a  last  resort,  to  leap  from  the 
window,  when  two  halls  pierced  him  from 
the  door,  one  of  which  entered  his  right 
breast,  and  he  staggered  lifeless,  exclaim- 
ing, '  0  Lord,  my  God  !  '  He  fell  on  his 
left  side,  a  dead  man.  The  excitement  in 
all  parts  of  the  west,  following  this  event, 
was  tremendous. 

An  address  was  now  sent  forth  to  "all 
the  saints  in  the  world,"  announcing,  with 
lamentations,  the  death  of  "the  Lord's 
Prophet."  Brigham  Young,  a  native  of 
Whittingham,  Vt.,  succeeded  to  the  presi- 
dency, thus  defeating  E-igdon,  who  claimed 
the  office,  but  who  was  forthwith  cut  off, 
and  delivered  over  to  the  'buffetings  of 
Satan.'  The  next  great  step  was  the 
abandonment  of  Kauvoo,  on  account  of  the 
bitter  hostility  of  the  Illinoisians  to  the 
existence  of  Mormonism  in  their  midst. 
Nauvoo  was  a  city  regularly  laid  out  with 
broad  streets  crossing  at  right  angles,  and 
the  houses  were  built  generally  of  logs, 
with  a  few  frame  and  brick  buildings 
interspersed.  A  temple,  one  hundred  and 
thirty    feet     long    by  ninety    wide,     Avas 


MORMON  TEMPLE. 


erected  of  polished  limestoi.  e;  the  bap- 
tistry was  in  the  basement,  and  held  a 
large  stone  basin  supported  by  twelve 
colossal  oxen.  In  1848,  this  building  was 
set  on  fire  by  an  incendiary,  and  all  con- 
sumed except  the  walls,  wliich  were  finally 
destroyed  by  a  tornado,  in  1850. 

The   valley  of  the   Great  Salt  Lake,  in 
Utah,    now  became    the   new    "promised 


land  "  of   the  exiled  Mormons,  and,  cross- 
ing the  frozen  Mississij)pi  in  the  winter  of 
1846,  the   exodus   began  ;  in  the  summer 
ensuing,    they     commenced    to    lay    the 
foundations  of  the  city, — the  "  New  Jeru- 
salem."    Soon  after,  the  whole  of  this  vast 
region  was  surveyed  by  Messrs.  Stansbury 
and    Gunnison,   by    order    of    the    federal 
government,  and  a  bill   organizing  Utah 
into  a   Territory  having  been   signed  by 
President  Fillmore,  Brigham  Young  was 
appointed  governor,  and  thus  became  the 
sujDreme  head  of    the   church   and   state. 
He   has   ruled  with  consummate  tact  and 
success,    overcoming   all    oj^position    from 
"  Gentile  "  sources,  and   even  keeping  at 
bay  the  national  government    itself.     He 
declared,   "  I  am,  and  will  he,   governor, 
and  no  potver  on  earth  can  hinder  it,  until 
the  Lord  Almighty  says,  ^  Brigliavi,  you 
need  not  he  governor  any  longer.^  "     Under 
his  teachings  and  practice,  polygamy  be- 
came firmly  established  and  universal,  the 
jirohibitory  laws  of  the  United    States  in 
this    matter    being    openly    defied.       His 
conduct  he  defended  in  powerful  harangues- 
to  the  faithful,  Avho  were  alwaj^s  ready,  at. 
the  word  of  command,  to  fight  or  murder,, 
in  behalf  of  their  political  and  spiritual 
chief,    if    occasion    required.       Their   sec- 
tarian literature  has  been  very  voluminous,, 
and  has  appeared  in  almost  every  language ; 
for    even    in    the  old  world  —  throughout 
Europe,  as  also  in  Asia,  Africa,  Australia, 
and  Polynesia, — scores  of  thousands  of  the 
simple-minded  have  become  dupes  of  the 
itinerant  impostors   sent  forth  from  head- 
quarters to   convert  the  "  gentile  "   world. 
Of   Young,    personally,   the    description 
usually    given    is    that    of  a   man    rather- 
above  the  medium   height  and    somewhat 
corpulent,  with    a  face  indicative  of  pene- 
tration and  firmness  ;    hair   parted  on  tlie 
side,  and   reaching   below  the   ears  with  a 
half  curl ;   the  forehead    somewhat  narrow,, 
thin  eyebrows,  the   eyes  between  gray  and 
blue,  with   a  calm,    composed,   and   some- 
what reserved    expression  ;   nose,  fine  and 
sharp-pointed,  and  bent  a  little  to  the  left; 
lips    close,    the    lower    one    evincing    the- 
sensual  voluptuary ;  cheeks  rather  fleshy,. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


313 


SALT  LAKE  CITY,  THE  MORMON  ZION. 


the  side  line  between  the  nose  and 
the  mouth  considembly  broken,  and  the 
chin  peaked ;  hands  well  made  ;  tlie  whole 
figure  large,  broad-shouldered,  and  stoop- 
ing a  little  when  standing.  In  dress,  no 
Quaker  could  be  neater  or  plainer, — all 
gray  homespun,  except  the  cravat  and 
waistcoat ;  the  coat  of  antique  cut,  and, 
like  the  pantaloons,  baggy,  and  the  but- 
tons black;  a  neck-tie  of  dark  silk,  with 
a  large  bow,  was  loosely  passed  around  a 
starchless  collar,  which  turned  down  of  its 
own  accord ;  the  waistcoat  of  black  satin 
— once  an  article  of  almost  national  dress 
— single-breasted,  and  buttoned  nearly  to 
the  neck,  and  a  plain  gold  chain  passed 
into  the  pocket.  In  manner,  affable  and 
impressive,  simple  and  courteous,  exciting 
in  strangers  a  consciousness  of  his  power. 
The  number  of  his  wives  was  never  known 
by  any  person  but  himself  ;  and  the  multi- 
tude of  his  children,  thus  born  into  the 
world,  constituted  his  chief  boast.  Those 
who  would  like  to  know  more  of  the 
details  of  a  Mormon  prophet's  harem  will 
find  them  amply  portrayed  in  the  works 
of  Burton,  Ferris,  Waite,  Bowles,  Colfax, 
and  other  travelers  in  that  region. 

Salt  Lake  Cit}'-,  about  two  thousand 
miles  west  of  New  York,  is  situated  on 
the  east  bank  of  the  river  Jordan,  a  stream 
which  connects  Great  Salt  Lake  and  Lake 
Utah  ;  it  is  separated  as  Avell  from  the 
western  frontier  as  from  the  Pacific  coast, 
by  dreary,  timberless  prairies,  sand  plains, 
and  high  mountains,  the  mountains  on 
the  east  side  being  covered  with  perpetual 


snow,  and  their  summits  are  nearly  two 
miles  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  Thus, 
the  Mormons  form  an  isolated  people, 
and  their  home  is  almost  shut  out  from 
the  rest  of  mankind.  The  city  was  laid 
out  so  as  to  contain  two  hundred  and 
sixty  blocks  of  ten  acres  each,  divided 
into  eight  lots  and  four  public  squares  ; 
the  streets,  one  hundred  and  twenty-eight 
feet  wide,  and  a  stream  of  water  flowing 
through  each,  for  the  purpose  of  irrigat- 
ing the  gardens ;  and  the  squares  being 
adorned  with  trees  from  the  four  quarters 
of  the  globe,  and  adorned  with  fountains. 
The  houses  are  built  of  sun-dried  brick, 
and  are  generally  small  and  of  one  story, 
with  separate  entrances  where  there  are 
several  wives.  The  great  temple,  built  in 
the  Gothic  style,  is  one  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  long  and  sixty  feet  wide.  One  of  the 
largest  buildings  is  the  tithing-house, 
where  is  deposited  one-tenth  of  all  the 
products  of  the  territory  for  the  benefit 
of  the  church.  Almost  "  all  the  authorities 
of  Zion "  live  in  this,  the  great  city 
thereof,  with  families  comprising  from 
twenty-five  to  two  wives  each,  and  there 
are  many  more  girls  than  boys  born.  The 
population  is  composed  largely  of  English, 
Scotch,  Welsh  and  Danes.  In  the  taber- 
nacle, a  large  public  building,  the  people 
assemble  on  the  Sabbath,  to  hear  the 
Mormon  gospel  preached  by  the  prophet 
and  his  coadjutors.  In  another  building, 
called  the  Endowment  House,  the  secret 
orders,  sacred  ordinances,  and  solemn  mys- 
teries of  Mormonism  are  administered. 


XXXIY. 

CAREER,    CAPTURE,    AND    EXECUTION    OF    GIBBS,    THE 
MOST    NOTED    PIRATE    OF    THE    CENTURY.— 1831. 


His  Bold,  Enterprising,  Desperate,  and  Successful  War,  for  Many  Years,  Against  the  Commerce  of  all 
Nations — Terror  inspired  by  His  Name  as  the  Scourge  of  the  Ocean  and  the  Enemy  of  Mankind. — 
Scores  of  Vessels  Taken,  Plundered,  and  Destroyed. — Their  Crews  and  Passengers,  Male  and  Female, 
Instantly  Butchered — Gibbs  Born  in  Rhode  Island — Joins  the  Privateer  Maria. — Captures  Her  in  a 
Mutiny — Hoists  the  Black  Flag. — Gibbs  Chosen  Leader. — Rendezvous  at  Cape  Antonio — Booty 
Sold  in  Havana. — No  Lives  Spared. — One  Beautiful  Girl  Excepted. — Atrocious  Use  Made  of  Her. — 
Tlie  Maria  Chased  All  Day. — Her  Final  Abandonment. — A  New  Craft:  Kich  Prizes — Fight  with  a 
United  States  Frigate. — Gibbs  Overmatched  and  Flees — Fatal  Voyage  in  the  Vineyard — Lands  at 
Southampton,  L.  I. — His  Infamy  Brought  to  Light. — Arrested  With  His  Treasure. — Confession  of 
His  Guilt. — Black  Record  of  Crime  and  Blood. — Close  of  His  Ill-Starred  Life. 


"  Lending  a  pirate's  crew, 
0"er  tile  (lurk  f^ea  1  flew. 
Wild  was  the  life  we  led. 
Many  the  souls  that  sped. 
Many  the  hearts  that  bled, 

By  our  stern  orders.' 


APPSAI<  or  A  OIKL  TO  GIBBS  TO  SPARE  HEB  LIFE. 


OTWITHSTANDING  a  new  generation 
has  come  upon  tlie  stage  of  human  af- 
fairs, since  "Gibbs,  theinvate^''  startled 
the    world    by    his    hold    and    atrocious 
career  on  the   high   seas,  liis  deeds  are 
still  read  of,  rehearsed,  and  listened  to, 
Avith  the  same  wondering  interest  and 
involuntary  shudder,    as  when,    in    the 
daj's  of  their  actual  occurrence,  they  broke 
fresh  upon  the  ears  of  an  astonished  and 
outraged  community ; — a  career  which,  in 
spite  of  the  destiny  that  inevitably  awaits 
such  a  course  of  crime  against  mankind, 
seemed  for  years  to  defy  and  baffle  all  the 
efforts  of  pursuit  and  of  retributive  justice. 
From  the  various  accessible  resources  of 
information     concerning     this     notorious 
adept  in  piracy  and  blood,  it  appears  that 
his  native  place  was  Providence,  R.  I.,  his 
real  name,  James  D.  Jeffers,  having  been 
given  up,  and  that  of  Charles  Gibbs  sub- 
stituted.    Bearing  this  name,  at  the  very 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


315 


Tuention  of  which  mankind  would  ai'ter- 
wards  shudder,  he  beeiinie,  in  the  widest 
and  most  gliastly  sense  of  tlie  term,  ever 
applied  to  man,  the  Soiny/r  of  the  Occ<tti. 

In  November,  1830,  there  sailed  from 
New  Orleans  for  Philadeli)hia,  the  brig 
Vineyard,  Captain  William  Thornby,  with 
William  Roberts  as  mate,  and  the  follow- 
ing crew  :  Charles  Gibbs,  John  Brownrigg, 
Robert  Dawes,  Henry  Atwell,  James 
Talbot,  A.  Church,  and  Thomas  I.  Wans- 
ley,  a  young  negro  native  of  Delaware, 
who  acted  as  cook.  W^hen  the  Vineyard 
ihad  been  five  days  at  sea,  Wansley  made  it 
Icnown  to  the  crew  that  there  were  fifty 
thousand  dollars  in  specie  on  board.  This 
information  excited  their  cupidity,  and 
induced  them  to  secretly  consult  as  to 
■whether  and  how  they  could  get  the  money 
into  their  own  hands.  Many  conversa- 
tions took  place  on  the  subject,  and  while 
these  were  going  on,  Dawes,  who  was  a 
mere  boy,  was  sent  to  converse  with  the 
officers,  in  order  to  divert  their  attention 
fro  n  \vhat  was  passing. 

Finally,  the  resolution  was  taken,  that 
as  the  master  and  mate  were  old  men,  it 
was  time  they  should  die  and  make  room 
for  the  rising  generation.  Moreover,  they 
were  of  the  opinion  that  as  the  mate  was 
of  a  peevish  disposition,  he  deserved  death. 
It  does  not  appear,  however,  that  Brown- 
rigg  or  Talbot  had  any  part  in  these  plans, 
or  in  the  foul  deed  that  resulted  from 
them.  The  conspirators  agreed  to  commit 
the  fiendish  crimes  of  murder  and  piracy, 
on  the  night  of  the  twenty-third.  The 
murder  of  the  master  was,  by  agreement, 
to  Gibbs  and  Wansley,  and  that  of  the 
mate  to  Atwell  and  Church.  This  plan 
was  carried  out. 

The  pirates  took  possession  of  the  vessel, 
and  Wansley  busied  himself  in  wiping  up 
the  blood  that  had  been  sj^illed  on  deck, 
declaring,  with  an  oath,  that  though  he 
had  heard  that  the  stains  of  the  blood  of  a 
murdered  person  could  not  be  effaced,  he 
would  wipe  away  these.  Then,  after 
drinking  all  round,  the}'^  got  up  the  money. 
It  was  distributed  in  equal  portions  to  all 
on  board;    Brownrigg    and    Talbot  being 


assured  that,  if  they  would  keep  the  secret, 
and  share  the  plunder,  they  should  receive 
no  injury. 

They  then  steered  a  north-easterly 
course  toward  Long  Island,  till  they  came 
within  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  of  South- 
ampton light,  where  they  resolved  to  leave 
the  vessel  and  take  to  the  boats,  though 
the  wind  was  blowing  very  hard.  Atwell 
scuttled  the  brig  and  got  into  the  jolly- 
boat  with  Church  and  Talbot,  while 
Gibbs,  Wansley,  Dawes,  and  Brownrigg, 
put  off  in  the  long-boat.  The  jolly-boat 
swamped  on  a  bar  two  miles  from  the 
shore,  and  all  on  board  were  drowned. 
The  long-boat  was  also  in  great  danger, 
and  was  onl}^  saved  from  a  like  fate  by 
throwing  over  several  bags  of  specie.  Nev- 
ertheless, the  crew  at  last  got  on  shore  at 
Pelican  Island,  where  they  buried  their 
money,  and  found  a  sportsman  who  told 
them  where  thej^  were.  The}'  then  crossed 
to  Great  Barn  Island,  and  went  to  the 
house  of  a  Mr.  Johnson,  to  whom  Brown- 
rigg gave  the  proper  information.  Thence 
they  went  to  the  house  of  a  Mr.  Leonard, 
where  they  procured  a  wagon  to  carry 
them  farther.  As  they  were  about  to  get 
in,  Brownrigg  cried  aloud  that  they  might 
go  where  they  pleased,  but  he  would  not 
accompany  them,  for  they  were  murderers. 
On  hearing  this,  Mr.  Leonard  obtained  the 
presence  of  a  magistrate,  and  Gibbs  and 
Dawes  were  apprehended.  Wansley  es- 
caped into  the  woods,  but  was  followed 
and  soon  taken.  The  maritime,  and 
indeed  the  whole  civilized  world,  breathed 
freer,  when  the  news  sj^read  abroad  of  tho 
great  pirate's  capture. 

The  evidence  of  the  guilt  of  the  accused 
was  full  and  conclusive.  Their  own  con- 
fession of  the  crime,  voluntarily  made  to 
Messrs.  Merritt  and  Stevenson,  who  had 
the  custody  of  them  from  Flatbush  to  New 
York,  could  have  left  not  the  shadow  of  a 
doubt  on  the  mind  of  any  person  who  heard 
the  testimony  of  those  officers.  Wansley 
told  the  whole  story,  occasionally  prompted 
by  Gibbs ;  and  while  both  admitted  that 
Brownrigg  was  innocent,  their  confession 
was  uot  so  favorable  as  to  Dawes. 


316 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Gibbs  was  arraigned  for  the  murder  of 
William  Roberts,  and  Wansley  for  that  of 
Captain  Thornby,  and,  being  found  guilty, 
judgment  in  accordance  with  the  law  was 
pronounced.  During  the  trial,  the  iron 
visage  of  Gibbs  was  occasionally  changed 
by  a  transient  emotion  ;  he  had  evidently 
abandoned  all  hope  of  escape,  and  sat  the 
greater  part  of  his  time  with  his  hands 
between  his  knees,  calmly  surveying  the 
scene  before  him.  Wansley  was  more 
agitated,  and  trembled  visibly  when  he 
rose  to  hear  the  verdict  of  the  jury. 

And  now,  as  was  to  be  expected,  there 
was  revealed  the  hloody  annals  of  Gibbs' s 
ill-starred  career. 


PIRATE   GIBBS. 


It  was  in  the  latter  part  of  1813,  that 
he  entered  on  board  a  ship  bound  to  New 
Orleans  and  thence  to  Stockholm.  On  the 
homeward  passage  they  were  forced  to  put 
into  Bristol,  England,  in  distress,  where 
the  ship  was  condemned,  and  he  proceeded 
to  Liverpool.  He  returned  to  the  United 
States  in  the  ship  Amity,  Captain  Max- 
well. Shortly  after  his  arrival  home,  the 
death  of  an  uncle  put  him  in  possession 
of  about  two  thousand  dollars,  with  which 
he  established  himself  in  the  grocery  busi- 
ness in  Boston,  an  undertaking  which  did 
not  prove  profitable,  so  that  he  was  often 
under  the  necessity  of  applying  to  his 
father  for  assistance,  which  was  always 
afforded,  together  with  the  best  advice. 
The  stock  was  finally  sold  at  auction,  for 
about  nine  hundred  dollars,  which  he  soon 
squandered  in  tippling-houses  and  among 
profligates.  His  father,  hearing  of  his 
dissipation,  wrote  affectionately  to  him  to 
come  home,  but  he  stubbornly  refused,  and 
again  turned  his  attention  to  the  sea. 


Sailing  in  the  ship  John,  Captain  Brown, 
bound  for  the  island  of  Margaretta,  he 
left  the  ship  soon  after  its  arrival  at  that 
place,  and  entered  on  board  the  Colombian 
privateer  Maria,  Captain  Bell.  They 
cruised  for  about  two  months  in  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico,  around  Cuba,  but  the  crew 
becoming  dissatisfied  in  consequence  of 
the  non-payment  of  their  prize-money,  a 
mutin^^  arose,  the  crew  took  possession  of 
the  schooner,  and  landed  the  officers  near 
Pensacola.  A  number  of  days  elapsed 
before  it  was  finally  decided  by  them  what 
course  to  pursue.  Some  advised  that  they 
should  cruise  as  before,  under  the  Colom- 
bian commission  ;  others  proposed  to  hoist 
the  black  flag.  They  cruised  for  a  short 
time  without  success,  and  it  was  then 
unanimously  determined  to  /toist  the  black 
flcig,  and  wage  war  against  the  commerce 
of  all  nations.  Their  bloody  purpose, 
however,  was  not  carried  into  full  and 
immediate  execution;  for,  though  they 
boarded  a  number  of  vessels,  they  allowed 
them  to  pass  unmolested,  there  being  no 
specie  on  board,  and  their  cargoes  not 
being  convertible  into  anything  valuable 
to  themselves. 

At  last,  one  of  the  crew,  named  Anto- 
nio, suggested  that  an  arrangement  could 
be  made  with  a  man  in  Havana,  that 
would  be  mutually  beneficial ;  that  he 
would  receive  all  their  goods,  sell  them, 
and  divide  the  proceeds.  This  plan  being 
received  favorably,  they  ran  up  within 
two  miles  of  Moro  Castle,  and  sent  Anto- 
nio on  shore  to  see  the  merchant  and  make 
a  contract  with  him.  Previous  to  this, 
Gibbs  was  chosen  to  navigate  the  vessel. 
Antonio  succeeded  in  arranging  every- 
thing according  to  their  wishes,  and  Cape 
Antonio  was  appointed  to  be  the  place  of 
rendezvous.  The  merchant  was  to  furnish 
facilities  for  transporting  the  goods  to 
Havana,  which  he  did  for  more  than  three 
years. 

The  Maria  now  put  to  sea,  with  a  crew 
of  about  fifty  men,  mostly  Spaniards  and 
Americans,  with  every  expectation  of  suc- 
cess. The  first  vessel  she  fell  in  with  was 
the  Indispensable,  an  English  ship  bound 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


3r 


to  Havana,  which  was  taken  and  carried 
to  Ca[)e  Antonio.  The  crew  ivere  imvie- 
diatelij  destroijed  ;  those  who  resisted  were 
hacked  to  pieces ;  those  who  offered  no 
resistance  were  reserued  to  be  shot  and 
thrown  overboard.  The  maxim  to  which 
they  scrupulous!}'- adliered,  was,  that  Ulead 
men  tell  no  tales.'  According  to  Gibbs's 
statement,  he  never  had  occasion  to  give 
orders  to  begin  the  work  of  death.  The 
Spaniards  were  eager  to  accomplish  that 
object  without  delay,  and  generally  everi/ 
unhappij  victim  disappeared  in  a  very  few 
minutes  after  the  pirates'  feet  trod  the 
deck  of  the  fated  vessel. 

Gibbs  now  directed  his  course  towards 
the  Bahama  Banks,  where  they  captured  a 
brig,  believed  to  be  the  William,  of  New 
York,  from  some  i>ort  in  Mexico,  with  a 
cargo  of  furniture,  destroyed  the  crew,  took 
the  vessel  to  Cape  Antonio,  and  sent  the 
furniture  and  other  articles  to  their  accom- 
plice in  Havana.  Sometime  during  this 
cruise,  the  pirate  was  chased  for  nearly  a 
whole  day,  by  a  United  States  frigate, 
supposed  to  be  the  John  Adams;  he 
hoisted  patriot  colors,  and  finally  escaped. 
In  the  early  part  of  the  summer  of  1817, 
they  took  the  Earl  of  Moria,  an  English 
ship  from  London,  with  a  cargo  of  dry- 
goods.  The  crew  were  destro3-ed,  the 
vessel  burnt,  and  the  goods  carried  to  the 
Cape ;  here  the  pirates  had  a  settlement 
with  their  Havana  agent,  and  the  proceeds 
were  divided  according  to  agreement. 
Gibbs  repaired  personally  to  Havana,  in- 
troduced himself  to  the  merchant,  and 
made  arrangements  for  the  successful  pros- 
ecution of  his  piracies.  While  there,  he 
became  acquainted  with  many  of  the  En- 
glish and  American  naval  officers,  and, 
adroitly  concealing  his  own  character  and 
calling,  inquired  respecting  the  success  of 
their  various  expeditions  for  the  suppres- 
sion of  piracy,  and  all  their  intended 
movements  ! 

On  the  return  to  Cape  Antonio,  Gibbs 
found  his  comrades  in  a  state  of  mutiny 
and  rebellion,  and  that  several  of  them  had 
been  killed.  His  energy  checked  the  dis- 
turbance, and  all  agreed  to  submit  to  his 


oi'ders,  and  put  any  one  to  death  who 
should  dare  to  disobey  them. 

During  the  cruise  which  was  made  in 
the  latter  part  of  1817  and  the  beginning 
of  1818,  a  Dutch  shii)  from  Curacoa  was 
captured,  with  a  cargo  of  West  India 
goods,  and  a  quantity  of  silver  plate.  The 
passengers  and  crew,  to  the  number  of 
thirty,  were  all  killed,  ^vith  the  exception 
of  a  young  and  beatitiful  female,  about 
seventeen,  who,  in  the  midst  of  the  awful 
scene  of  death-blows  and  shrieks  and  man- 
gled corpses,  kneeled  upon  the  gory  deck, 
and  ])iteoiisly  imj^lored  Gibbs  to  save  her 
life!  The  appeal  was  successful;  and  he 
promised  to  save  her,  though  he  knew  it 
would  lead  to  dangerous  consequences 
among  his  crew.  She  was  carried  to  Cape 
Antonio,  and  kept  there  about  two  months ; 
but  the  dissatisfaction  increased  until  it 
broke  out  at  last  into  open  mutiny,  and 
one  of  the  pirates  was  shot  by  Gibbs  for 
daring  to  lay  hold  of  her  with  a  view  to 
beating  out  her  brains.  Gibbs  was  com- 
pelled, however,  in  the  end,  to  submit  her 
fate  to  a  council  of  war,  at  which  it  was 
decided  that  the  preservation  of  their  own 
lives  made  her  sacrifice  indispensable.  He 
therefore  acquiesced  in  the  decision,  and 
gave  orders  to  have  her  destroyed  by 
poison,  which  was  immediately  adminis- 
tered to  her,  and  thus  the  young,  beautiful, 
and  unfortunate  creature  was  launched 
itito  the  other  world. 

Shortly  after  this,  the  piratical  schooner 
was  driven  ashore  near  the  Cape,  and  so 
much  damaged  that  it  was  found  necessary 
to  destroy  her.  A  new,  sharp-built 
schooner  was  in  consequence  provided  by 
their  faithful  ally  in  Havana,  called  the 
Picciana,  and  dispatched  to  their  rendez- 
vous. 

In  this  vessel,  they  cruised  successfully 
for  more  than  four  years.  Among  the 
vessels  taken  and  destroyed  —  and  their 
crews  and  passengers  remorselessly  hurried 
into  eternity — were  the  Belvidere,  Dido,  a 
Dutch  brig,  the  British  barque  Larch,  and 
many  others. 

Gibbs  further  stated  that  he  had  been 
concerned  in  robbing  forty  different  ves- 


318 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


GIBBS  BUTCHERING   THE  CREW  OF  ONE  OF  HIS   PRIZES. 


aels.  He  gave  the  names  of  upwards  of  a 
score  of  vessels  taken  by  the  pirates  under 
his  command,  the  crews  of  which  had  been 
murdered. 

Sometime  in  the  course  of  the  year 
1819,  Gibbs  left  Havana  for  the  United 
States,  carrying  with  him  about  thirty 
thousand  dollars.  He  passed  several 
weeks  in  New  York,  and  then  went  to 
Boston,  whence  he  took  passage  for  Liver- 
pool, in  the  ship  Emerald.  Before  he 
sailed,  however,  he  had  squandered  a  large 
part  of  his  money  in  dissipation  and  gam- 
bling. He  remained  in  Liverpool  a  few 
months,  and  then  returned  to  Boston  in 
the  ship  Topaz.     His  residence  in  Liver- 


pool, at  that  time,  was  testified  to  by  a. 
female  in  New  York,  who  was  well 
acquainted  with  him  there,  and  where,  as 
she  stated,  he  lived  like  a  wealthy  gentle- 
man. In  speaking  of  his  acquaintance 
with  this  female,  Gibbs  said  : 

"  I  fell  in  with  a  woman,  who,  I  thought, 
was  all  virtue,  but  she  deceived  me,  and  I 
am  sorry  to  say  that  a  heart  that  never 
felt  abashed  at  scenes  of  carnage  and 
blood,  was  made  a  child  of,  for  a  time,  by 
her,  and  I  gave  way  to  dissipation  and 
torment.  How  often,  when  the  fumes  of 
liquor  have  subsided,  have  I  thought  of 
my  good  and  affectionate  parents,  and  of 
their  godly  advice  !     But  when  the  little' 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


319 


monitor  began  tomovo  within  inc,  I  iiiiiue- 
diately  seized  tlie  cii[t  to  liiile  uiysell"  from 
myself,  and  drank  until  the  sense  of  intoxi- 
cation was  renewed.  My  friends  advised 
me  to  behave  like  a  man,  and  promised  me 
their  assistance,  but  the  demon  still 
haunted  me,  and  I  spurned  their  advice." 

He  readily  admitted  his  participation  in 
the  Vineyard  mutiny,  revolt  and  robber3^, 
and  in  tlio  murder  of  Thornby  ;  and,  so 
impressed  was  he  with  the  universal  detes- 
tation and  horror  which  his  heinous  crimes 
had  excited  against  him,  that  he  often 
inquired  if  he  should  not  be  murdered  in 
the  streets,  in  case  he  had  his  liberty,  and 
was  recognized.  He  would  also  frequently 
exclaim,  "  Oh,  if  I  had  got  into  Algiers, 
I  should  never  have  been  in  this  prison, 
to  he  Ming  for  murder  !  " 

Though  he  gave  no  evidence  of  contri- 
tion for  the  horrible  and  multiplied  crimes 
of  which  he  confessed  himself  guilty,  yet 
he  evidently  dwelt  upon  their  recollection 
with  great  unwillingness.  If  a  question 
was  asked  him,  in  regard  to  how  the  crews 
were  generally  destroyed,  he  answered 
quickly  and  briefly,  and  iiistantly  changed 
the  topic  either  to  the  circumstances 
attending  his  trial,  or  to  his  exploits  in 
Buenos  Ayres.  On  being  asked  why  with 
such  cruelty  he  killed  so  many  persons, 
after  getting  all  their  money,  which  was 
all  he  wanted,  he  replied  that  the  laws 
themselves  were  responsible  for  so  many 
murders ;  that,  by  those  laws,  a  man  has 
to  suffer  death  for  piracy,  and  the  punish- 
ment for  murder  is  no  more, — besides,  all 
witnesses  are  out  of  the  way,  and,  conse- 
quently, if  the  punishment  was  different, 
there  would  not  be  so  many  murders. 

On  Friday,  April  twenty-second,  1831, 


Gibbs  and  Wansley  paid  the  penalty  of 
their  crimes.  Both  prisoners  arrived  at 
the  gallows  about  twelve  o'clock,  accom- 
panied by  the  marshal,  his  aids,  and  a 
body  of  United  States  marines.  Two 
clergymen  attended  them  to  the  fatal  spot, 
where,  everythijig  being  in  readiness,  the 
ropes  were  adjusted  about  their  necks,  and 
prayers  offered.  Gibbs  addressed  the 
spectators,  acknowledging  the  heinousness 
of  his  career,  and  adding — 

"  Should  any  of  the  friends  of  those 
whom  I  have  been  accessory  to,  or  engaged 
in,  the  murder  of,  be  now  present,  before 
my  Maker  I  beg  their  forgiveness — it  is 
the  only  boon  I  ask — and,  as  I  hope  for 
pardon  through  the  blood  of  Christ,  surely 
this  request  will  not  be  withheld  by  man, 
from  a  worm,  like  myself,  standing,  as  I 
do,  on  the  very  verge  of  eternity !  An- 
other moment,  and  I  cease  to  exist — and 
could  I  find  in  ni}^  bosom  room  to  imagine 
that  the  spectators  now  assembled  had 
forgiven  me,  the  scaffold  Avould  have  no 
terrors.  My  first  crime  was  piracy,  for 
which  my  life  would  pay  the  forfeit  on 
conviction ;  no  punishment  could  be 
inflicted  on  me  farther  than  that,  and 
therefore  I  had  nothing  to  fear  but  detec- 
tion, for  had  my  offenses  been  millions  of 
times  more  aggravated  than  they  now  are, 
death  must  have  satisfied  all." 

Gibbs  shook  hands  with  Wansley,  the 
officers  and  clergymen,  the  caps  were  then 
drawn  over  the  faces  of  the  two  criminals, 
and  a  handkerchief  dropped  by  Gibbs  as  a 
signal  to  the  executioner  caused  the  cord 
to  be  severed,  and  in  an  instant  they  were 
suspended  in  air.  Wansley  expired  with 
only  a  few  slight  struggles.  Gibbs  died 
hard. 


XXXV. 


NULLIFICATION     OUTBREAK      IN      SOUTH     CAROLINA, 

UNDER   THE    LEAD  OF    CALHOUN,   McDUFFIE, 

HAYNE,  AND   OTHERS.— 1832. 


State  Sovereignty,  Instead  of  the  Federal  Government,  Claimed  by  them  to  be  Supreme. — The  Wrath 
of  President  Jackson  Aroused. — His  Stern  and  Heroic  Will  Upholds  the  National  Authority  and 
Saves  the  Union  from  Anarchy  and  from  the  Perils  of  Dismemberment. — Momentous  Nature  of 
this  Contest. — The  Tariff  a  Rock  of  Offense. — Action  in  the  "  Palmetto  "  State.— Anti-National 
and  Defiant.—  Pacific  Proposals  Scouted. — A  Political  Dinner  in  Washington. — Jackson's  and  Cal- 
houn's Toasts. — Plan  of  the  Conspirators. — A  Bombshell  in  Their  Camp. — Convention  of  Agitators 
in  Columbia — Nullification  Ordinance  Passed. — "  Old  Hickory  "  Bold  and  Resolute. — His  Peremp- 
tory Proclamation. — South  Carolina's  Counter-Blast. — United  States  Troops  Sent  to  Charleston. — 
Presidential  Idea  of  Compromising. — Clay's  Conciliation  Scheme. — The  Leading  Nullifiers  in 
Danger.— Jackson  Threatens  to  Hang  Them. — They  are  Roused  from  Bed  at  Midnight. — Two 
Alternatives  Presented. — Swallowing  a  Bitter  Pill. 


"  Tlioii  too.  sail  on,  O  ehip  of  State,— 
Sail  on.  O  I  y  lo.v.  strirn^j  and  great; 
Ihiiniji'iiy.  with  all  iis  fears. 
Wjth  all  iic  hoper.  of  future  years. 
Is  hanging  breathless  on  thy  fate  I" 


^  i?^ 


FAVOltlTK    8TATK    KM  Pil.I  M,  S.  C. 


ITTEE,   and    momentous   was    the   political   contest 
which  shook  the  Union  to  its  very  center  in  1832,  the 
year    in  which  cuhninated,  in  all  its  violence,  the 
South  Carolina  doctrine  of  State  Rights  and  Nullifi- 
cation.    In  a  general,  j)reliminary  way,  the  nature  or 
origin  of  this  great  sectional  conflict  presents  itself 
thus  :  A  powerful  party  in  South  Carolina,  led  on  by 
able   and   ambitious  politicians,  contended  that  con- 
gress had  no  power  to  impose  taxes  for  protecting 
home  industry  or  manufactures,  but  solely  for  pur- 
poses of  revenue,  sufficient   to  defray  the  expenses  of 
the  government ;  that  each   state   had  a  right  to  judge 
whether  congress,  in  its  legislation,  exceeded  its  powers, 
and  in  that  case  to  disobey  it, — treat  it  as  of  no  binding 
They  therefore    declared  the  tariff  which   passed   into 
;ion  at    the    close  of  the   session  of  1832,  to  be  null  and 
making  it  unlawful  for  any  of  the  constituted  authorities 
to  enforce  it;  and  disallowing  all  appeal  to  the  supreme  court. 
Any  act  which  might  be  passed  by  congress  to  coerce  them  into 
obedience,  they    would  consider  as   dissolving   them   from    the 
obligation  to  maintain   the   Union,  and  they  would   proceed  to 
organize   a  separate  government.     These  views  were  supported 
by  their  legislature,  and  vehemently  advocated  by  Calhoun  and 
McDuffie  at  Washington, — two  of  the  most  celebrated  leaders  in 
public    affairs,  who    have  ever   appeared   in    American    history. 
Their  scheme,  however,  of  defying  the  national  government,  on 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


321 


the  assumption  of"  the  sovereignty  of  the 
states  as  principals,  and  tlie  subordination 
of  tlie  federal  government  as  a  mere 
agency,  found  a  mortal  enemy  in  Andrew 
Jackson,  wliO;  at  the  very  time  chosen  by 
the  sectionalists,  or  nullitiers,  to  put  their 
doctrine  into  practice,  was  chief  magistrate 
of  the  nation. 

But,  though  the  climax  of  these  anti- 
national  proceedings  was  not  reached  until 
this  period,  the  great  leaders  had  for  years 
been  sowing  the  seeds  of  contempt  for 
federal  authority  and  the  constitution  and 
Union  from  which  that  authority  was  de- 
rived, and,  in  doing  this,  even  went  so  far 
as  to  claim  that  the  fathers  of  the  republic, 
especially  Mr.  Jetferson,  held  and  taught 
the  same  principle.  Of  these  tactics,  Mr. 
Benton  gives  a  notable  example,  in  his 
account  of  the  anniversary  of  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son's birthday,  April  thirteenth,  1830, 
celebrated  by  a  numerous  company,  that 
year,  in  the  city  of  Washington ;  Mr. 
Benton's  account  agreeing,  in  every  ma- 
terial j)oint,  with  that  furnished  by  other 
pens,  as  follows : 

It  was  the  birthday  of  Thomas  Jeffer- 
son, and  those  who  attended  the  party  did 
so  avowedly  for  the  purpose  of  honoring 
the  memory  of  the  author  of  the  Declar- 
ation of  Independence.  Such  at  least  Avas 
the  tenor  of  the  invitation.  Andrew  Jack- 
son, the  president  of  the  United  States, 
was  there.  So  was  John  C.  Calhoun,  the 
vice-president.  Three  of  the  cabinet  min- 
isters, namely.  Van  Buren,  Eaton,  and 
Branch,  were  there  ;  and  members  of  con- 
gress and  citizens  not  a  few. 

It  soon  became  manifest  to  the  more 
sagacious  ones,  that  this  dinner  party  and 
the  day  were  to  be  made  the  occasion  for 
inaugurating  the  new  doctrine  of  nullifi- 
cation, and  to  fix  the  paternity  of  it  on 
Mr.  Jefferson,  the  great  apostle  of  democ- 
racy in  America.  Many  gentlemen  pres- 
ent, perceiving  the  drift  of  the  whole  per- 
formance, withdrew  in  disgust  before  sum- 
moned to  the  table ;  but  the  sturdy  old 
president,  perfectly  informed,  remained. 

When  the  dinner  was  over  and  the  cloth 
removed,  a  call  was  made  for  the  regular 
21 


toasts.  These  were  twenty-four  in  num- 
ber, eighteen  of  which,  it  is  alleged,  were 
written  by  Mr.  Calhoun.  These,  in  multi- 
farious forms,  shadowed  forth,  now  dimly, 
now  clearly,  the  new  doctrine.  They 
were  all  received  and  honored  in  various 
degrees,  when  volunteer  toasts  were  an- 
nounced as  in  order. 

The  president  of  the  United  States  was 
of  course  first  called  upon  for  a  sentiment. 
His  tall  form  rose  majestically,  and  with 
that  sternness  approj^riate  to  the  peculiar 
occasion,  he  cast  that  apalling  bomb-shell 
of  words  into  the  camp  of  the  consjiira- 
tors,  which  will  forever  be  a  theme  for 
the  commendation  of  the  patriot  and  the 
historian — "The  Federal  Union:  it 
MUST  BE  Preserved  ! "  He  was  fol- 
lowed by  the  vice-president,  Mr.  Calhoun, 
who  gave  as  his  sentiment — "  The  Union  : 
next  to  oar  Liberty  the  most  dear  ;  may 
we  all  remember  that  it  can  only  be  pre- 
served by  respecting  the  rights  of  the 
States,  and  distributing  equally  the  benefit 
and  burden  of  the  Union  !  "  Those  who 
before  doubted  the  intentions  of  Calhoun 
and  his  southern  friends,  and  were  at  a 
loss  to  understand  the  exact  meaning  of 
the  dinner  party,  were  no  longer  embar- 
rassed by  ignorance.  In  that  toast  was 
presented  the  issue — ^liberty  before  union 
— supreme  state  sovereignty — false  com- 
plaints of  inequality  of  benefits  and  bur- 
dens— '  our  rights  '  as  we  choose  to  define 
them,  or  disunion.  From  that  hour,  there- 
fore, the  vigilant  old  president  watched  the 
South  Carolina  conspirator,  his  lieutenant, 
with  the  searching  eyes  of  unslumbering 
suspicion. 

But  the  opposition  of  South  Carolina 
to  a  protective  tariff  dated  farther  back 
than  this.  In  1820,  and  again  in  1825, 
the  legislature  of  that  state  protested 
against  all  such  congressional  measures, 
and  in  1827  instructed  her  representatives 
at  AVashington  to  maintain  these  views, 
to  the  fullest  extent,  on  the  floor  of  con- 
gress. The  next  year,  she  entered  a  for- 
mal protest  and  resolutions  against  any 
right  of  congress  to  impose  protective 
duties  on  imported  goods.     More  resolu- 


322 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


tions,  addressed  to  other  states,  followed 
in  December,  1828,  and  in  1830  the  state 
legislature  most  forcibly  reaffirmed  the 
doctrines  to  which  it  had  previously  given 
such  emphatic  expression.  In  fact,  the 
people  had  been  worked  by  their  leaders 
into  a  temporary  frenzy. 

In  an  exhaustive,  as  well  as  most  vivid 
and  truthful  review  of  the  events  per- 
taining to  this  exciting  period  in  national 
affairs,  a  writer  in  the  New  Monthly 
Magazine  has  contributed  one  of  the  most 
thrilling  chapters  to  be  found  in  American 
history.  From  that  source  the  following 
abridged  narrative  is  derived  for  the  most 
part : 

A  prominent  issue  in  the  presidential 
election  of  1832  was  that  of  the  protective 
tariff,  otherwise  known  as  the  American 
System.  South  Carolina  had  virtually 
threatened  to  secede  from  the  Union  unless 


appointed.  She  refused  to  take  an  honest 
part  in  the  presidential  election,  giving 
her  votes  for  citizens  who  were  not  candi- 
dates. She  had  resolved — or  rather  the 
conspirators  had  resolved  for  her — not  to 
be  pacified  with  anything  less  than  federal 
dismemberment ! 

Jackson,  the  chosen  standard-bearer  of 
the  democratic  party,  and  to  which  organ- 
ization the  conspirators  professedly  be- 
longed, was  re-elected ;  yet  the  malcon- 
tents continued  to  defy  the  government, 
and  exhibited  the  falsity  of  their  profes- 
sions of  attachment  to  that  party  b^'^  im- 
mediately, when  the  result  of  the  election 
was  known,  calling  a  convention  of  the 
delegates  of  the  people  of  South  Carolina, 
at  Columbia,  their  state  capital,  for  a 
rebellious  purpose. 

In  that  convention,  composed  of  poli- 
ticians, the  professed    representatives    of 


OLD  STATE  HOUSE  AT  COLUMBIA. 


the  policy  of  that  s^'stem  should  be  aban- 
doned b}'  the  government.  A  nervous 
apprehension  of  some  dire  impending  ca- 
lamity appears  to  have  taken  possession  of 
the  public  mind,  and  the  congressional 
elections  resulted  unfavorably  to  the  sys- 
tem. Those  who  loved  j)eace  in  the 
national  household  fondly  expected  now 
to  see  the  smile  of  satisfaction  on  the  face 
of  South   Carolina.      But  they  were  dis- 


the  people  took  into  their  own  hands 
violent  instrumentalities  for  the  redress  of 
alleged  grievances,  which  the  chief  con- 
spirators had  prescribed.  Just  a  fortnight 
after  the  election,  November  24,  1832, 
which  really  decided  the  fate  of  the  Ameri- 
can System,  they  sent  forth  from  that 
convention  an  Ordinance  of  Nullification 
against  it,  its  title  being,  "  An  ordinance 
to  nullify  certain  acts  of  the  Congress  of 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


323 


the  United  States,  purporting  to  be  laws 
laying  duties  and  imposts  on  the  im- 
portation of  foreign  commodities."  Mr. 
Hayne,  recently  senator  in  congress,  was 
president  of  that  convention,  and  chair- 
man of  the  committee  of  twenty-one  who 
reported  the  ordinance  of  nullitication. 
A  fortnight  after  this  labor  was  per- 
formed, the  legislature  of  South  Carolina, 
made  up  chiefly  of  Calhoun's  and  McDuf- 
fie's  disciples,  evinced  their  sympathy  with 
Hayne's  course  by  electing  him  governor 
of  that  commonwealth. 

The  ordinance  of  nullification  forbade 
all  constituted  authorities,  state  or  na- 
tional, within  the  boundaries  of  South 
Carolina,  to  enforce  the  payment  of  duties 
imposed  by  the  tariff  laws,  and  disallowed 
any  appeal,  by  residents  of  the  state,  to 
the  United  States  supreme  court.  It  was 
also  ordained  that  all  public  officers  should 
take  an  oath  to  obey  that  ordinance  on 
penalty  of  forfeiture  of  office.  A  military 
spirit  everywhere  prevailed.  The  blue 
cockade  with  the  Palmetto  button,  was 
almost  universally  worn. 

Having  thus  bound  the  people  of  the 
state  hand  and  foot,  the  conspirators  de- 
fiantly declared  that  they  would  not  sub- 
mit to  coercion  by  the  United  States,  and 
that  they  should  consider  the  passage  by 
congress  of  any  act  declaring  the  ports  of 
that  state  abolished  or  closed,  or  in  any 
way  interfering  with  their  commerce  as 
"  inconsistent  with  the  longer  continuance 
of  South  Carolina  in  the  Union ; "  and 
that  the  people  of  the  state  would  hence- 
forth "  hold  themselves  absolved  from  all 
further  obligation  to  maintain  or  preserve 
their  political  connection  with  the  people  of 
the  other  states,"  and  would  proceed  forth- 
with to  "organize  a  separate  government, 
and  do  all  other  acts  and  things  which  sov- 
ereign and  independent  states  may  of  right 
do."  The  ordinance  was  to  take  effect  on 
the  first  day  of  February  ensuing  after  its 
passage.  It  was  signed  by  more  than  one 
hundred  leading  citizens  of  South  Carolina, 
and  thus  officially  communicated  to  the 
president  of  the  United  States.  The  state 
of  affairs  threatened  a  fatal  crisis. 


Fortunately  for  the  country,  there  was 
a  man  at  the  head  of  the  government 
whose  patriotism  and  courage  had  never 
been  found  wanting.  It  was  eqvxal  to  this 
emergency  ! 

South  Carolina,  through  her  unscrupu- 
lous politicians,  had  been  placed  in  the 
attitude  of  open,  forcible  resistance  to  the 
laws  of  the  United  States,  Avhich  the 
president  had  solemnly  sworn  to  execute. 
Andrew  Jackson  was  not  a  man  to  be 
trifled  with.  He  quickly  perceived  his 
duty,  and  as  quickly  hastened  to  the  per- 
formance of  it.  The  ordinance  of  nulli- 
fication reached  him  on  the  1st  of  De- 
cember. On  the  tenth  of  the  same  month 
he  issued  a  proclamation,  kind  but  firm, 
persuasive  but  admonitory,  in  which  he 
denounced  the  pernicious  doctrine  of  state 
supremacy,  and  warned  the  people  of 
South  Carolina  that  they  had  been  de- 
ceived by  demagogues.  "  Eloquent  appeals 
to  your  passions,  to  your  state  pride,  to 
your  native  courage,  to  your  sense  of  real 
injury,"  he  said,  "  were  used  to  prepare 
you  for  the  period  when  the  mask,  which 
concealed  the  hidden  features  of  disunion, 
should  be  taken  off.  It  fell,  and  you  were 
made  to  look  with  complacency  on  objects 
which,  not  long  since,  you  would  have  re- 
garded with  horror."  Thus,  perfectly 
self-poised  and  unterrified,  he  reasoned 
fraternally  with  them. 

In  patriotic  language  he  also  appealed 
to  the  misguided  people  to  snatch  from  the 
archives  of  their  state  the  disorganizing 
edict  of  its  convention;  "bid  its  members 
to  reassemble,  and  promulgate  the  de- 
cided expression  of  your  will  to  remain  in 
the  path  which  alone  can  conduct  you  to 
safety,  prosperity,  and  honor.  Tell  them 
that,  compared  with  disunion,  all  other 
evils  are  light,  because  that  brings  with  it 
an  accumulation  of  all.  Declare  that  you 
will  never  take  the  field  unless  the  star- 
spangled  banner  of  your  country  shall 
float  over  j-ou ;  that  you  will  not  be  stig- 
matized, when  dead,  and  dishonored  and 
scorned  while  you  live,  as  the  authors  of 
the  first  attack  on  the  constitution  of  your 
country.     Its    destroyers   you  cannot  be. 


324 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


You  may  disturb  its  peace  ;  3-ou  may  in- 
terrupt the  course  of  its  prosperity ;  3'ou 
may  cloud  its  rei^utation  for  stability  ;  but 
its  tranquillity  will  be  restored,  its  pros- 
perity will  return,  and  the  stains  upon  its 
national  character  will  be  transferred  and 
remain  an  eternal  blot  on  the  memory  of 
those  who  caused  the  disorder."  No 
presidential  document  ever  caused  so  pro- 
found a  sensation,  not  even  that  concern- 
ing the  transfer  of  the  government  de- 
posits from  the  old  United  States  bank 
to  various  local  banks,  under  Secretary 
Taney,  the  successor  of  Duane, — an  act 
which  nothing  less  than  Jackson's  im- 
mense personal  popularity  could  survive. 
Meanwhile,  Governor  Hayne  had  called 


the  South  Carolina  legislature  together,  to 
take  measures  for  enforcing  the  ordinance 
of  nullification.  They  authorized  the  gov- 
ernor to  call  out  the  militia  of  the  state 
for  the  purpose,  and  ordered  the  purchase 
of  ten  thousand  stand  of  arms,  and  a 
requisite  quantity  of  equipments  and  muni- 
tions of  war.  The  feelings  of  the  poli- 
ticians of  other  states  were  consulted. 
Those  of  Virginia,  Georgia,  and  Ala- 
bama approved  of  the  action  of  the  "  Pal- 
metto State,"  and  gave  assurance  that,  in 
the  event  of  secession,  those  states  would 
join  her  in  forming  a  southern  confederacy. 
But  North  Carolina  refused  her  assent  to 
any  such  scheme.     Governor  Hayne,  how- 


ever, issued  his  counter-proclamation,  de- 
nouncing the  attitude  of  the  general 
government  towards  the  state  of  South 
Carolina,  and  threatening  to  resist  to  the 
last  extremity.  Hayne  Avas  of  the  same 
political  stripe,  in  his  day,  as  Floyd, 
Jacob  Thompson,  General  Quitman,  and 
the  host  of  lesser  marplots  in  congress,  of 
a  later  era. 

The  time  for  action  had  now  arrived, 
and  Calhoun  resigned  the  vice-presidency 
and  took  his  seat  in  the  senate  of  the 
United  States,  where  he  might  do  battle 
for  disunion  more  potently.  The  presi- 
dent had  resolved  to  arrest  him  on  his 
arrival  at  Washington,  have  him  tried  for 
high  treason,  and  hung  if  found  guilty. 
But  the  great  southern  chieftain  walked 
in,  slowly  and  deliberately,  to  the  crowded 
senate,  and,  with  reverential  manner,  and 
in  a  serious,  solemn,  and  audible  voice, 
took  the  oath  to  supj^ort  the  Constitution 
of  the  United  States.  Perhaps,  at  this 
moment,  the  prediction  of  Dr.  Timothy 
Dwight  that  he,  Calhoun,  would  one  day 
be  president  of  the  nation,  flashed  across 
the  mind  of  the  ambitious  southron. 

This  contemplated  arrest,  in  the  then 
condition  of  public  feeling  in  the  southern 
states,  might  have  been,  if  carried  out,  a 
mo.st  pernicious  stejJ ;  one  that  would  have 
kindled  the  flames  of  civil  war  instantly. 
Webster  and  others  persuaded  Jackson 
not  to  adopt  that  extreme  measure,  but 
to  endeavor  to  win  back  the  deluded 
people.  The  proclamation  already  men- 
tioned, followed;  and,  on  the  assembling 
of  congress,  President  Jackson,  in  his 
annual  message,  called  attention  to  the 
attitude  of  South  Carolina,  and  asked  for 
co-operation  in  suppressing  the  rising 
rebellion.  He  had  already  taken  pre- 
cautionary measures.  Quite  a  large  body 
of  troops,  under  General  Scott,  were 
stealthily  thrown  into  Fort  Moultrie  in 
Charleston  harbor,  and  a  sloop  of  war  was 
sent  to  the  same  waters  to  protect  the 
national  officers  of  customs,  if  necessary, 
in  the  performance  of  their  duties. 

Before    the    inhabitants  of    Charleston 
were  aware  that  the  president  would  re- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


325 


sort  to  force  in  the  maintenance  of  tlie 
laws,  the  national  troops  were  before  their 
faces,  and  the  guns  of  Fort  Moultrie  were 
silently  but  udnionishingly  telling  them 
to  be  careful  not  to  interfere  with  tlie  busi- 
ness of  the  United   States  custom-house  ! 

The  president  had  declared,  in  substance, 
in  his  message,  that  his  [xilicy  would  be  a 
peaceful  one  towards  the  rebellious  state, 
so  long  as  peaceful  measures  promised  to 
be  effectual ;  but  in  the  event  of  per- 
sistent contumac}^,  he  was  prepared  to 
force  South  Carolina  into  submission. 
This  determination  of  the  government, 
the  presence  of  General  Scott  with  a 
competent  force,  and  the  sloop-of-war  in 
the  harbor,  caused  a  material  abatement 
of  rebellious  zeal  in  the  metropolis  of  the 
turbulent  state,  and  it  became  evident  to 
the  leaders  there  that  South  Carolina  would 
not  be  permitted  to  sever  the  bond  that 
bound  her  to  the  Union.  Her  famous 
ordinance  was  not  enforced  ;  the  revenues 
were  regularly  collected ;  and  the  national 
laws  continued  to  be  executed  without 
interruption.  Such  being  the  case,  the 
conspirators  in  the  convention,  illy  conceal- 
ing their  mortification  after  such  a  dis- 
play of  arrogance,  resolved  to  postpone 
their  intended  forcible  resistance  until  the 
first  of  February. 

On  the  very  first  day  of  the  session  of 
congress,  bills  for  the  reduction  of  the 
tariff  were  introduced.  One  reported  by 
Mr.  Verplanck,  from  the  committee  of 
ways  and  means,  was  very  favorably  re- 
ceived, especially  by  those  who  wished 
to  conciliate  the  radical  opponents  of  the 
tariff,  of  the  South  Carolina  school.  But 
long  debates  followed,  and  February,  as 
well  as  the  session  of  congress,  was  draw- 
ing to  a  close,  when,  to  the  astonishment 
of  everj'^body,  Mr.  Letcher,  a  representa- 
tive from  Kentucky,  and  an  ardent  friend 
of  Mr.  Clay,  rose  in  his  place  and  moved 
to  strike  out  every  word  of  the  bill  except 
the  enacting  clause,  and  insert  in  lieu 
of  it  a  bill  introduced  in  the  senate  by 
Mr.  Clay,  which  has  since  been  called  the 
'  compromise  bill.'  It  was  a  formal  aban- 
donment    of    the    American    system,   and 


confessedly  a  measure  to  heal  disaffection 
and  save  the  Union.  It  proposed  a 
gradual  reduction  of  the  tariff  in  the 
course  of  ten  years,  in  such  a  way  that  all 
interests  would  be  unharmed.  This  com- 
promise bill  ultimately  passed,  and  the 
weapons  of  disunion  were  for  a  time 
foiled,  as  well  as  Calhoun's  mad  ambition. 

Of  the  secret  history  of  this  remarkable 
measure,  in  the  passage  of  which  Clay 
and  Calhoun  appeared  to  be  in  coalition, 
Mr.  Benton  has  given  a  most  interesting 
explanation,  substantially  as  follows  : 

The  relative  position  of  the  national 
government  and  South  Carolina,  and  of 
the  president  of  the  United  States  and 
Mr.  Calhoun,  in  the  winter  of  1833, 
placed  the  latter  in  great  personal  peril, 
which  his  friends  perceived  and  tried  to 
avert.  Among  others  consulted  on  the 
subject  by  them,  was  Letcher,  of  Ken- 
tucky, Clay's  warm  personal  friend.  He 
knew  tliat  South  Carolina  must  yield,  on 
some  terms,  to  the  authority  and  power  of 
the  national  government,  and  he  conceived 
the  idea  of  a  compromise  by  which,  in  so 
yielding,  she  might  preserve  her  dignity. 
He  proposed  it  to  Mr.  Clay,  who,  sincerely 
desiring  reconciliation,  entertained  the 
idea,  and  submitted  it  to  Webster.  The 
amazing  intellectual  plummet  of  the  latter 
had  fathomed  the  turbid  waters  of  nullifi- 
cation far  deeper  than  had  the  brilliant 
Kentuckian.  and  he  instantly  answered — 
*"  No  !  It  will  be  yielding  great  prin- 
ciples to  faction.  The  time  has  come  to 
test  the  strength  of  the  constitution  and 
tlie  f/ov eminent P 

Mr.  Webster  had  heartily  supported  the 
force  bill  reported  by  Mr.  Wilkins  from  the 
judiciary  committee.  Although  opposed, 
politically,  to  Jackson's  administration,  he 
had  said  that  he  believed  an  unlawful  com- 
bination was  threatening  the  integrity  of 
the  Union,  and  that  he  should  give  the 
administration  a  frank  and  hearty  sup- 
port, in  all  just  measures  for  dealing 
firmly  with  the  crisis.  He  was  utterly 
opposed  to  compromising  and  temporizing 
measures  with  a  rebellious  faction,  and 
told  Mr.  Clay  so  ;  and  from  that   time  he 


326 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


was  not  approached  by  those  wlio  were 
willing  to  shield  conspirators  from  the 
sword  of  justice. 

Mr.  Clay  drew  up  a  compromise  bill  and 
sent  it  to  Mr.  Calhoun  by  Mr.  Letcher. 
Calhoun  objected  to  i:)arts  of  the  bill  most 
emphatically,  and  remarked  that  if  Clay 
knew  the  nature  of  his  objections,  he 
would  at  least  modify  those  portions  of 
the  bill.  Letcher  made  arrangements  for 
a  personal  interview  between  these  eminent 


Letcher  now  flew  to  McDuflfie,  Calhoun's 
ardent  friend  and  chief  coadjutor,  and 
alarmed  him  with  a  startling  picture  of  the 
president's  wrath.  That  night,  after  he 
had  retired  to  bed,  Letcher  was  aroused 
by  a  Louisiana  senator,  Josiah  S.  John- 
son, who  informed  him  that  Jackson  would 
not  allow  any  more  dela}',  and  that  Cal- 
houn's arrest  might  take  place  an}'  hour. 
He  begged  Letcher  to  warn  Calhoun  of 
his  danger.     He   did   so.     He  found  the 


senators,  who  had  not  been  on  speaking 
terms  for  some  time.  The  imperious  Clay 
demanded  that  it  should  be  at  his  own 
room.  The  imperiled  Calhoun  consented 
to  go  there.  The  meeting  was  civil,  but 
icy.  The  business  was  immediately  en- 
tered upon.  The  principals  were  unyield- 
ing, and  the  conference  ended  without 
results.  Letcher  now  hastened  to  the 
president,  and  sounded  Idm  on  compro- 
mising. 

"  Compromise  !  "  said  the  stern  old  man, 
"  I  will  make  no  compromise  with  traitors. 
I  will  have  no  negotiations.  I  will  execute 
the  laws.  Calhoun  shall  be  tried  for 
treason,  and  hanged  if  found  guilty,  if  he 
does    not    instantly  cease    his    rebellious 


course. 


?> 


South  Carolinian  in  bed.  He  told  him  of 
the  temper  and  intentions  of  the  president, 
and  the  conspirator  was  much  alarmed. 

Meanwhile,  Mr.  Clay  and  J.  M.  Clay- 
ton of  Delaware  had  been  in  frequent 
consultations  on  the  subject.  Clayton 
had  said  to  Clay,  while  his  bill  was  linger- 
ing in  the  house,  "These  South  Caro- 
linians act  very  badl}',  but  they  are  good 
fellows,  and  it  is  a  pity  to  let  Jackson 
hang  them  ;  "  and  advised  him  to  get  his 
bill  referred  to  a  new  committee,  and  so 
modify  it  as  to  make  it  acceptable  to  a 
majority.  Clay  did  so,  and  Clayton  ex- 
erted all  his  influence  to  avert  the  ca- 
lamit}'  which  hung  over  Calhoun  and  his 
friends.  He  assembled  the  manufacturers 
who  had  hurried  to  the  capital  when  they 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


327 


liad  heard  of  the  compromise  bill,  to  see 
■whether  the}'  would  not  yield  something, 
for  the  sake  of  conciliation  and  the  Union. 
At  a  sacrifice  of  their  interests,  these 
loyal  men  did  yield,  and  agreed  to  with- 
draw all  opposition  to  the  bill,  and  let  it 
pass  the  senate,  providing  all  the  nuUifiers 
should  vote  for  certain  amendments  made 
by  the  lower  house,  as  well  as  the  bill 
itself.  The  nullitiers  in  committee  would 
not  yield.  The  crisis  had  arrived.  The 
gallows  tvas  i^laced  before  Calhouji's  eyes. 
Clayton  earnestly  remonstrated  with  him. 
He  pointed  out  the  danger,  the  folly,  the 
wickedness  of  his  course ;  and  notified 
him  that  unless  the  amendments  were 
adopted,  and  that  by  the  votes  of  himself 
and  political  friends,  the  bill  should  not 
pass  ;  that  he,  Clayton,  would  move  to  lay 
it  on  the  table  when  it  should  be  reported 
to  the  senate,  and  he  had  strength  enough 
there  pledged  to  do  it.  "  The  president 
will  then,"  he  said,  "be  left  free  to  ex- 
ecute the  laws  in  full  rigor."  His  object, 
he  told  them  plainly,  was  to  put  them 
squarely  on  the  record  ;  to  make  all  the 
nullifiers  vote  for  the  amendments  and  the 
l)ill,  and  thus  cut  them  off  from  the  plea  of 
"  unconstitutionality,"  which  they  would 
raise  if  the  bill  and  amendments  did  not 
receive  their  votes.  Unless  they  were  so 
liound,  he  knew  that  the  present  pacifica- 
tion would  be  only  a  hollow  truce,  and 
that  they  would  make  this  very  measure, 
probably,  a  pretense  for  renewing  their 
resistance  to  what  they  were  pleased  to 
call  "  unconstitutional  measures "  of  the 
national  government,  and  for  resuming 
their  march  toward  secession  and  inde- 
pendence. He  was  peremptory  with  both 
Clay  and  Calhoun,  and  warned  them  that 
this  was  the  last  chance  for  compromise. 
Mr.  Clayton  was  inexorable.  Clay  and 
Calhoun  agreed  to  the  amendments.  These 
with  the  bill  were  reported  to  the  senate. 
All  the  nullifiers  voted  for  the  amendments 
in  order,  until  they  came  to  the  last,  that 
of  home  valuation,  which  was  so  revolting 
to  the  great  leader  of  the  conspirators. 
"When  that  came  up,  Calhoun  and  his 
friends   met    it  with  the  most  violent  op- 


position. It  was  the  last  day  but  one  of 
the  session,  and  a  late  hour  in  the  day. 
Finding  the  nullifiers  persistent  in  their 
opposition,  Clayton,  to  their  great  con- 
sternation, suddenly  executed  his  threat. 
He  moved  to  lay  the  bill  on  the  table,  and 
declared  it  should  continue  to  lie  there. 
Mr.  Clay  begged  him  to  withdraw  his 
motion.  Others  enti'eated  him  to  give  a 
little  more  time.  He  was  indexible. 
There  was  fluttering  in  the  bevy  of  nulli- 
fiers. Calhoun  and  his  friends  retired 
behind  the  colonnade  back  of  the  presi- 
ding ofiicer's  chair,  and  there  held  a 
brief  consultation.  It  was  very  brief,  for 
time  and  0])portunity  were  precious.  Sena- 
tor Bibb  came  from  the  trembling  con- 
clave and  asked  Clayton  to  give  a  little 
more  time.  This  was  a  token  of  yielding, 
and  he  complied.  He  withdrew  his 
motion,  but  with  the  declaration  that 
unless  the  measure,  in  full,  was  voted  for 
by  all  the  nullifiers,  he  should  renew  it. 
Instantly  one  of  their  friends  moved  an 
adjournment,  and  it  was  carried.  A  little 
time  brought  them  to  the  conclusion  to 
vote  as  Mr.  Claj'ton  demanded,  but  begged 
that  gentleman  to  spare  Mr.  Calhoun  the 
mortification  of  appearing  on  the  record 
in  favor  of  a  measure  against  which,  at 
that  A'ery  time,  and  at  his  instance,  troops 
were  being  raised  in  South  Carolina,  and 
because  of  which  the  politicians  of  that 
state  were  preparing  to  declare  her  seces- 
sion from  the  Union  !  Mr.  Clayton  would 
not  yield  a  jot.  Calhoun  was  the  chief  of 
sinners  in  this  matter,  and  he,  of  all 
others,  must  give  the  w^orld  public  and 
recorded  evidence  of  penitence,  wdiatever 
his  "  mental  reservations "  might  be. 
"Nothing  would  be  secured,"  Mr.  Claj'ton 
said,  "unless  his  vote  appears  in  favor  of 
the  measure." 

The  senate  met ;  the  bill  was  taken  up  ; 
and  the  nullifiers  and  their  friends,  one 
after  another,  yielded  their  objections  on 
various  pretenses.  At  length,  when  all 
had  voted  but  Mr.  Calhoun,  he  arose,  pale 
and  haggard,  for  he  had  had  a  most  ter- 
rible struggle.  He  declared  that  he  had 
then  to  determine    w-hich  way  he   should 


328 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


vote,  and  at  the  termination  of  liis  brief 
remarks  he  gave  his  voice  in  the  affirma- 
tive with  the  rest.  It  was  a  bitter  pill  for 
that  proud  man  to  swallow.  The  alterna- 
tive presented  to  him  was  absolute  humilia- 
tion or  the  gallows.  He  chose  the  former. 
With  that  act  fell  the  great  conspiracy  to 
break  up  the  government  of  the  United 
States  in  1832.  The  violent  clamors 
raised  in  South  Carolina  and  the  Gulf 
States  on  the  appearance  of  Jackson's 
proclamation  soon  ceased,  and  the  ordi- 
nance of  nullification  was  repealed. 

To  Jackson's  heroic  will  and  unfaltering 
purpo-e  was  the  result  due.  Thv;s,  when 
the  nullification  frenzy  was  at  its  height, 
the    Union    men    in    Charleston    sent    a 


deputation  to  Washington,  to  inform  the 
president  that  they  were  daily  threatened 
with  an  outbreak,  and  did  not  consider 
their  lives  safe.  Scarcely  waiting  to  hear 
the  words  uttered,  the  general  sprung  to 
his  feet,  and  with  a  voice  and  a  look  of 
almost  superhuman  energy,  exclaimed — 

"  The  lives  of  Union  men  not  safe, 
while  Andrew  Jackson  is  president !  Go 
back  to  Charleston,  and  tell  the  nullifiers 
that  if  a  hair  on  the  head  of  a  Union  man 
is  harmed,  that  moment  I  order  General 
Coffee  to  march  on  Carolina  with  fifty 
thousand  Tennessee  volunteers,  and  if  that 
does  not  settle  the  business,  tell  them — 
by  the  Eternal! — that  I  will  take  the  field 
myself,  with  fifty  thousand  more !  " 


XXXVI. 

SUBLIME   METEORIC   SHOWER  ALL  OYER  THE   UNITED 

STATES.— 1833. 


The  Most  Grand  and  Brilliant  Celestial  Phenomenon  Ever  Beheld  and  Recorded  by  Man. — The  Whole 
Firmament  of  the  Universe  in  Fiery  Commotion  for  Several  Hours. — Amazing  Velocity,  Size,  and 
Profusion  of  tlie  Falling  Bodies — Tiieir  Intense  Heat,  Vivid  Colors,  and  Strange,  Glowing  Beauty. — 
Unequaled  in  Every  Respect. — Cloudless  Serenity  of  the  Sky. — The  People  Wonder-Struck  — 
Admiration  Among  the  Intelligent. — Alarm  Among  the  Ignorant. — Conflagration  of  the  World 
Feared. — Impromptu  Prayer-Meetings. — Prodigious  Star-Shower  at  Boston. — Myriads  of  Blood-Red 
Fire-Balis. — Tiie  Display  at  Niagara  Falls. — Blazing  Heavens,  Roaring  Cataracts. — Some  of  the 
Meteors  Explode. — Trains  of  Light  in  their  Track. — Radiant  Prismatic  Hues. — Substance  Compos- 
ing these  Bodies. — Dissipated  by  Bursting. — One  Great  Central  Source. — Velocity,  Four  Miles  a 
Second. — Novel  Shapes  and  Motions. — Hotter  than  the  Hottest  Furnace. — Possible  Result  to  the 
Earth. — Half  a  Continent  in  Presumed  Jeopardy. 


"the  sanguine  flood 
Rolled  a  broad  slaughter  o'er  the  plains  of  heaven, 
And  nature's  self  did  seem  to  tolter  on  the  brink  of  time." 


lOUS 


Extensive    and  magnificent  showers   of  shooting  stars  have  been  known 

laces  in  modern  times ;  but  the  most  universal  and 
^  wonderful  which  has  ever  been  recorded  is  that 
of  the  thirteenth  of  November,  1833,  the  ichole 
firmament,  over  all  the  United  States,  being 
then,  for  hours,  in  fiery  commotion  !  No  celestial 
phenomenon  has  ever  occurred  in  this  countrj^,  since 
its  first  settlement,  which  was  viewed  with  such  in- 
tense admiration  b}^  one  class  in  the  community,  or 
with  so  much  dread  and  alarm  by  another.  It  was 
the  all-engrossing  theme  of  conversation  and  of 
scientific  disquisition,  for  weeks  and  months.  In- 
deed, it  could  not  be  otherwise,  than  that  such  a 
rare  phenomenon, — next  in  grandeur  and  sublimity 
to  that  of  a  total  solar  eclipse,  or  a  great  comet 
stretched  athwart  the  starry  heavens,  in  full  view 
of  a  wonder-struck  universe, — should  awaken  the 
deepest  interest  among  all  beholding  it.  Nor  is  the 
memory  of  this  marvelous  scene  yet  extinct ;  its 
sublimit}^  and  awful  beaut}^  still  linger  in  many  minds,  who  also  remember  well  the 
terror  with  which  the  demonstration  was  regarded,  and  the  mortal  fear  excited  among 
the  ignorant  that  the  end  of  the  world  had  come.     During  the  three  hours  of  its  con- 


METEORIC   SHOWER  AT  BOSTON. 


330 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ti nuance,  the  day  of  judgment  was  be- 
lieved to  be  only  waiting  for  sunrise,  and, 
long  after  the  shower  had  ceased,  the 
morbid  and  superstitious  still  were  im- 
pressed with  the  idea  that  the  final  day 
was  at  least  only  a  week  ahead.  Impromptu 
meetings  for  prayer  were  held  in  many 
places,  and  many  other  scenes  of  religious 
devotion,  or  terror,  or  abandonment  of 
worldly  affairs,  transpired,  under  the  in- 
fluence of  fear  occasioned  by  so  sudden 
and  awful  a  display. 

But,  tliough  in  many  districts  the  mass 
of  the  poj)ulation  were  thus  panic-stricken, 
through  fear,  as  well  as  want  of  familiarity 
with  the  history  of  such  appearances,  the 
more  enlightened  were  profoundly  awed 
at  contemplating  so  vivid  a  picture  of  the 
apocaly[)tic  image — that  of  'the  stars  of 
heaven  falling  to  the  earth,  even  as  a  fig 
tree  casting  her  untimely  figs,  when  she  is 
shaken  of  a  mighty  wind.'  In  describing 
the  effect  of  this  phenomenon  upon  the 
black  population,  a  southern  planter  says : 

'I  was  suddenly  awakened  by  the  most 
distressing  cries  that  ever  fell  on  my  ears. 
Shrieks  of  horror  and  cries  for  mercy, 
could  be  heard  from  most  of  the  negroes  of 
three  plantations,  amounting  in  all  to  some 
six  or  eight  hundred.  While  earnestly 
and  breathlessly  listening  for  the  cause,  I 
heard  a  faint  voice  near  the  door  calling 
my  name.  I  arose,  and,  taking  my  sword, 
stood  at  the  door.  At  this  moment  I 
heard  the  same  voice  still  beseeching  me 
to  rise,  and  saying,  "  0,  my  God,  the  world 
is  on  fire!  "  I  then  opened  the  door,  and 
it  is  diflScult  to  say  which  excited  me  most 
— the  awfulness  of  the  scene,  or  the  dis- 
tressed cries  of  the  negroes.  Upwards  of 
one  hundred  lay  prostrate  on  the  ground, 
some  speechless,  and  others  uttering  the 
bitterest  moans,  but  with  their  hands 
raised,  imploring  God  to  save  the  world 
and  them.  The  scene  was  truly  awful,  for 
never  did  rain  fall  much  thicker  than  the 
meteors  fell  towards  the  earth  ;  east,  west, 
north,  and  south,  it  was  the  same.'  In  a 
word,  tJie  tvltole  heavens  seemed  i)i  motion. 

The  display,  as  described  in  Professor 
Silliman's  Journal,  was  seen  all  over  North 


America.  The  chief  scene  of  the  exhibi- 
tion was  within  the  limits  of  the  longitude 
of  sixty-one  degrees  in  the  Atlantic  ocean, 
and  that  of  one  hundred  degrees  in  Cen- 
tral Mexico,  and  from  the  North  Ameri- 
can lakes  to  the  southern  side  of  the  island 
of  Jamaica. 

Over  this  vast  area,  an  appearance  pre- 
sented itself  far  surpassing,  in  grandeur 
and  magnificence,  the  loftiest  reach  of  the 
human  imagination.  From  two  o'clock 
until  broad  daylight,  the  sky  being  per- 
fectly serene  and  cloudless,  an  incessant 
play  of  dazzlingly  brilliant  luminosities 
was  kept  up  in  the  whole  heavens.  Some 
of  these  were  of  great  magnitude  and  most 
peculiar  form.  One,  of  large  size,  remained 
for  some  time  almost  stationary  in  the  ze- 
nith, over  the  Falls  of  Niagara,  emitting 
streams  of  light  which  radiated  in  all  direc- 
tions. The  wild  dash  of  the  waters,  as  con- 
trasted with  the  fiery  commotion  above 
them,  formed  a  scene  of  unequaled  and 
amazing  sublimity.  Arago  computes  that 
not  less  than  tivo  liundred  and  forty  thou- 
sand meteors  were  at  the  same  time  visible 
above  the  horizon  of  Bostoyi  !  To  form  some 
idea  of  such  a  spectacle,  one  must  imagine 
a  constant  succession  of  fire-balls,  resem- 
bling sky-rockets  radiating  in  all  direc- 
tions, from  a  point  in  the  heavens  near  the 
zenith,  and  following  the  arch  of  the  sky 
towards  the  horizon.  They  proceeded  to 
various  distances  from  the  radiating  point, 
leaving  after  them  a  vivid  streak  of  light, 
and  usually  exj^loding  before  the}-  disap- 
peared. The  balls  were  of  various  sizes 
and  degrees  of  splendor ;  some  were  mere 
points,  but  others  were  larger  and  brighter 
than  Jupiter  or  Venus  ;  and  one,  in  j)ar- 
ticular,  appeared  to  be  nearly  of  the  moon's 
size.  But  at  Niagara,  no  spectacle  so  ter- 
ribly grand  and  sublime  was  ever  before 
beheld  by  man  as  that  of  the  firmament 
descending  in  fiery  torrents  over  the  dark 
and  roarinr/  catarart ! 

Everywhere  within  the  range  of  the 
exhibition,  the  first  appearance  was  that  of 
fire-works  of  the  most  imposing  grandeur, 
covering  the  entire  vault  of  heaven  with 
myriads  of  fire-balls  resembling  sky-rock- 


GREAT  AND  MEM0HA13LE  EVENTS. 


oo^ 


GO. 


ets.  On  more  attentive  inspection,  it  was 
seen  that  the  meteors  exhibited  three  dis- 
tinct varieties,  as  follows,  described  by  Dr. 
Olmsted  :— 

First,  those  consisting  of  phosphoric 
lines,  apparently  described  by  a  point. 
This  A'ariety  was  tlie  most  numerous, 
every-where  filling  the  atmos})here,  and 
resembling  a  shower  of  fiery  snow  driven 
with  inconceivable  velocity  to  the  north  of 
west,  and  transfixing  the  beholder  with 
wondering  awe. 

Second,  those  consisting  of  large  fire- 
balls, which  at  intervals  darted  along  the 
sky,  leaving  luminous  trains  which  occa- 
sionally remained  in  view  for  a  number  of 
minutes,  and,  in  some  cases,  for  half  an 
hour  or  more.  This  hind  appeared  more 
like  falling  stars,  giving  to  many  persons 
the  verj'  natural  impression  that  the  stars 
were  actually  falling  from  the  sky;  and  it 
was  principally  this  spectacle  which  caused 
such  amazement  and  terror  among  the 
unenlightened  classes. 

Third,  those  undefined  luminous  bodies 
which  remained  nearly  stationary  in  the 
heavens  for  a  considerable  period  of  time ; 
these  were  of  various  size  and  form. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  circum- 
stances attending  this  display  was,  that 
the  meteors  all  seemed  to  emanate  from 


sky,  ran  along  the  vault  with  immense 
velocity,  describing  in  some  instances  an 
arc  of  thirty  or  forty  degrees  in  less  than 
four  seconds.  The  trains  which  the}'  left 
were  commonly  white,  but  were  sometimes 
tinged  with  various  prismatic  colors. 

One  ball — seen  at  New  Haven,  and  sup- 
posed to  have  been  identical  with  one 
described  by  various  observers — that  shot 
off  in  the  north-west  direction,  and  ex- 
ploded a  little  northward  of  the  star 
Capella,  left,  just  behind  the  place  of 
explosion,  a  phosphorescent  train  of  pecu- 
liar beauty.  The  line  of  direction  was  at 
first  nearly  straight;  but  it  soon  began  to 
contract  in  length,  to  dilate  in  breadth, 
and  to  assume  the  figure  of  a  serpent  draw- 
ing himself  wp,  until  it  appeared  like  a 
small  luminous  cloud  of  vapor.  This 
cloud  was  borne  eastward,  —  the  wind 
blowing  gently  in  that  direction, — oppo- 
site to  the  course  in  which  the  meteor  had 
proceeded,  remaining  in  sight  several 
minutes. 

Of  the  third  variety  of  meteors,  the  fol- 
lowing are  remarkable  examples.  At 
Poland,  Ohio,  a  luminous  body  was  dis- 
tinctly visible  in  the  north-east  for  more 
than  an  hour ;  it  was  very  brilliant,  in  the 
form  of  a  pruning-hook,  and  apparently 
twenty   feet   long    and    eighteen    inches 


METEOKIC  SHOWER  AS  SKEH  AT  KIAGAKA  FALLS. 


one  and  the  same  point ;  that  is,  if  their 
lines  of  direction  had  been  continued  back- 
ward, they  would  have  met  in  the  same 
point,  south-east  a  little  from  the  zenith. 
They  set  out  at  different  distances  from 
this  point,  and,  following  the  arch  of  the 


broad ;  it  gradually  settled  towards  the 
horizon,  until  it  disappeared.  At  Niagara 
Falls,  a  large,  luminous  body,  shaped  like 
a  square  table,  was  seen  nearly  in  the 
zenith,  remaining  for  some  time  almost 
stationary,  and  emitting  large  streams  of 


332 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


light.  At  Charleston,  S.  C,  a  meteor  of 
extraordiuarj''  size  was  seen  to  course  the 
heavens  for  a  great  length  of  time,  and 
then  Avas  heard  to  explode  with  the  noise 
of  a  cannon. 

The  point  from  which  the  meteors 
seemed  to  issue,  was  observed,  by  those 
wlio  fixed  the  position  of  the  display 
among  the  stars,  to  be  in  the  constellation 
Leo.  At  New  Haven,  it  appeared  in  the 
bend  of  the  '  sickle  ' — a  collection  of  stars 
in  the  breast  of  Leo, — a  little  to  the  west- 
ward of  the  star  Gamma  Leonis.  By 
observers  at  other  places  remote  from  each 
other,  it  was  seen  in  the  same  constella- 
tion, although  in  different  parts  of  it.  An 
interesting  and  important  fact,  in  this 
connection,  is,  that  this  radiating  point 
was  stationary  among  the  fixed  stars  — 
that  is,  that  it  did  not  move  along  with  the 
earth,  in  its  diurnal  revolution  eastward, 
but  accompanied  the  stars  in  their  appar- 
ent progress  westward. 

According  to  the  testimony  of  by  far  the 
greater  number  of  observers,  the  meteors 
were,  in  general,  unaccompanied  by  any 
very  peculiar  sound ;  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  such  a  sound,  proceeding,  as  was 
supposed,  from  the  meteors,  was  said  to  be 
distinctly  heard  by  a  few  observers  in 
various  places.  These  sounds  are  repre- 
sented either  as  a  hissing  noise,  like  the 
rushing  of  a  sky-rocket,  or  as  explosions, 
like  the  bursting  of  the  same  bodies  ;  and 
these  instances  were  too  numerous  to 
permit  the  supposition  that  they  were 
imaginary. 

A  remarkable  change  of  weather,  from 
warm  to  cold,  accompanied  the  meteoric 
shower,  or  immediately  followed  it.  In 
all  parts  of  the  United  States,  this  change 
was  remarkable  for  its  suddenness  and 
intensity.  In  many  places,  the  day  pre- 
ceding had  been  unusually  warm  for  the 
season,  but,  before  morning,  a  severe  frost 
ensued,  unparalleled  for  the  time  of  year. 
Indeed,  the  seasons  and  atmospheric 
changes  exhibited  remarkable  anomalies 
long  after  that  period.  Thus,  in  parts  of 
Michigan,  so  uncommonly  mild  was  the 
season    throughout     the    latter    part    of 


November,  and  the  whole  of  December, 
that  the  Indians  made  maple  sugar  during 
this  month,  and  the  contiguous  lakes 
remained  unfrozen  as  late  as  January 
third.  At  the  same  period,  the  season  in 
the  south-western  states,  as  far  as  New 
Orleans,  was  uncommonly  cold.  In  most 
portions  of  New  England,  an  unusually 
mild  winter  was  succeeded  by  a  remarka- 
bly cold  and  backward  spring,  requiring 
domestic  fires  to  be  kept  throughout  the 
month  of  May,  and  frequently  in  the 
month  of  June.  A  succession  of  gales 
commenced  about  the  time  of  the  meteoric 
shower,  first  in  the  Atlantic  ocean,  and 
afterwards  in  various  parts  of  the  United 
States,  almost  unequaled  in  this  country 
for  their  frequency  and  violence. 

The  meteors  were  constituted  of  very 
light,  combustible  materials.  Their  com- 
bustibility was  rendered  evident  by  their 
exhibiting  the  actual  phenomena  of  com- 
bustion, being  consumed,  or  converted 
into  smoke,  with  intense  light  and  heat ; 
and  the  extreme  tenuity  of  the  substance 
composing  them  is  inferred  from  the  fact 
that  they  were  stopped  by  the  air.  Had 
their  quantity  of  matter  been  considerable, 
with  so  prodigious  a  velocity,  they  would 
have  had  a  sufficient  momentum  to  enable 
them  to  reach  the  earth,  and  the  most  dis- 
astrous consequences  might  have  ensued. 
Upon  submitting  this  subject  to  accurate 
calculation,  upon  established  principles, 
Dr.  Olmsted  ascertained  that  the  quantity 
of  heat  extricated  from  the  air  by  the  fall- 
ing meteors,  exceeded  that  of  the  hottest 
furnaces,  and  could  be  compared  only  to 
those  immeasurable  degrees  of  heat  pro- 
duced in  the  laboratory  of  the  chemist, 
before  which  the  most  refractory  sub- 
stances are  melted,  and  even  dissipated  in 
vapor. 

Some  of  the  lai-ger  meteors  must  have 
been  bodies  of  very  great  size.  Dr.  Smith, 
of  North  Carolina,  and  other  persons  in 
various  places,  saw  a  meteor  which  ap- 
peared as  large  as  the  full  moon.  If  this 
body  were  at  the  distance  of  one  hundred 
and  ten  miles  from  the  observer,  it  must 
have  had  a  diameter  of  one  mile  ;  if  at  a 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


333 


distance  of  eleven  miles,  its  diameter  was 
five  luuulred  and  twenty-eight  feet;  and 
if  only  one  mile  off,  it  must  have  been 
forty-eight  feet  in  diameter.  These  con- 
siderations leave  no  doubt  that  many  of 
the  meteors  were  of  great  size,  though  it 
may  be  difficult  to  say  precisely  how  large. 
The  fact  that  they  were  stopped  by  the 
resistance  of  the  air,  proves  that  their 
substance  was  light;  still,  the  quantity  of 
smoke,  or  residuum,  which  resulted  from 
their  destruction,  indicates  that  there  was 
quite  a  body  of  matter. 

The  momentum  of  even  light  bodies  of 
such  size,  and  in  such  numbers,  traversing 
the  atmosphere  with  such  astonishing 
velocity,  must  have  produced  extensive 
derangements  in  the  atmospheric  equilib- 
rium, as  the  consideration  of  certain  points 
will  show. 

These  large  bodies  were  stopped  in  the 
atmosphere,  only  by  transferring  their 
motion  to  columns  of  air,  large  volumes  of 
which  would  be  suddenly  and  violently 
displaced.  Cold  air  of  the  upper  regions 
would  be  brought  down  to  the  earth  ;  the 
portions  of  air  incumbent  over  districts  of 
country  remote  from  each  other,  being 
mutually  displaced,  would  exchange  places, 
the  air  of  the  warm  latitudes  being  trans- 
ferred to  colder,  and  that  of  cold  latitudes 
to  warmer  regions ;  remarkable  changes 
of  season  would  be  the  consequence,  and 
numerous  and  violent  gales  would  prevail 
for  a  long  time,  until  the  atmosphere 
should  have  regained  its  equilibrium.  That 
the  state  of  the  weather,  and  the  condition 
of  the  seasons  that  followed  the  meteoric 
shower,  corresponded  to  these  consequences 
of  the  disturbance  of  the  atmospheric  equi- 
librium, is  a  remarkable  fact,  and  favors 
the  opinion  early  suggested,  that  such 
disturbance  is  a  natural  effect  of  the  mete- 
oric shower,  and  it  is  a  conseqiience  from 
which  the  most  formidable  dangers  attend- 
ing phenomena  of  this  kind  are  to  be 
apprehended. 

With  regard  to  the  nature  of  the  mete- 
ors, Dr.  Olmsted,  after  establishing  the 
fact  that  they  were  combustible,  light, 
iind  transparent    bodies,    infers    that   the 


cloud  which  produced  the  fiery  shower, 
consisted  of  nebulous  matter,  analogous  to 
that  which  composes  the  tails  of  comets. 
It  cannot  be  said,  indeed,  jjrecisely  what 
is  the  constitution  of  the  material  of  which 
the  latter  are  composed  ;  but  it  is  known 
that  it  is  very .  light,  since  it  meets  no 
appreciable  force  of  attraction  on  the  plan- 
ets, moving  even  among  the  satellites  of 
Jupiter  without  disturbing  their  motions, 
although  its  own  motions,  in  such  cases, 
are  greatly  disturbed,  thus  proving  its 
materiality;  and,  that  it  is  exceedingly 
transparent,  is  evinced  by  the  fact  that 
the  smallest  stars  are  visible  through  it. 
Hence,  so  far  as  there  can  be  gathered 
any  knowledge  of  the  material  of  the  neb- 
ulous matter  of  comets,  and  of  the  matter 
composing  these  November  meteors,  they 
appear  to  be  analogous  to  each  other. 

Various  hypotheses  have  been  proposed 
to  account  for  this  wonderful  phenomenon. 
The  agent  most  readily  suggesting  itself 
in  this  and  in  most  other  unexjilained 
natural  appearances — electricity — has  no 
known  jiroperties  adequate  to  account  for 
the  production  of  the  meteors,  for  the 
motions  which  they  exhibited,  or  for  the 
trains  which,  in  many  instances,  they  left 
behind  them.  And,  if  this  agent  be  sup- 
posed to  have  some  connection  with  the 
light  and  heat  which  they  exhibited,  it  is 
to  be  borne  in  mind,  that  the  compression 
of  the  air  which  must  result  from  the 
rapid  progress  of  large  bodies  through  it, 
is  a  sufficient  cause  of  this. 

Magnetism  has  also  been  assigned  as  the 
principal  agent  concerned  in  producing 
the  meteoric  shower.  The  aurora  borealis, 
and  the  remarkable  auroral  arches  which 
occasionally  appear  in  the  sky,  have  been 
found  to  have  peculiar  relations  to  the 
magnetism  of  the  earth,  arranging  them- 
selves in  obedience  to  the  laws  of  magnetic 
attraction.  Something  of  this  kind  was 
supposed  by  some  to  appear  during  the 
meteoric  phenomenon,  especially  in  the 
position  of  the  apparent  center  or  radiant- 
point,  which  wa.s,  as  noticed,  by  many 
observers,  verj'  nearly  in  the  place  towards 
Avhich     the     dipping-needle    is     directed. 


334 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


REMARKABLE  METEORIC  DISPLAY  ON  THE  MISSISSIPPI. 


From  other  observations,  however,  it 
ai»pears  that  the  radiant-point  was  not 
stationary  witli  respect  to  the  meridian, 
hut  accompanied  tlie  stars  in  tlieir  westerly 
progress ;  the  apparent  coincidence  with 
the  pole  of  the  dipping-needle  being, 
according  to  this,  purely  accidental. 

According  to  the  view  that  has  been 
taken,  by  some,  of  the  origin  of  meteoric 
stones,  namel}^,  that  of  ascribing  them  to 
terrestrial  comets,  the  hypothesis  has  been 
suggested,  that  the  meteors  in  question 
might  have  a  similar  origin.  But  the 
body  which  afforded  the  meteoric  shower, 
could  not  have  been  of  the  nature  of  a 
satellite  to  the  earth,  because  it  remained 


so  long  stationary  with  respect  to  the 
earth — at  least  two  hours, — a  period  suffi- 
cient to  have  carried  it  nearly  round  the 
earth  in  a  circular  orbit. 

Nor  can  it  be  supposed  that  the  earth, 
in  its  annual  progress,  came  into  the  vicin- 
ity of  a  nebula,  which  was  either  station- 
ary, or  wandering  lawless  through  space. 
Such  a  collection  of  matter  could  not 
remain  stationary  within  the  solar  system, 
in  an  insulated  state;  and  had  it  been  in 
motion  in  any  other  direction  than  that  in 
which  the  earth  was  moving,  it  would  soon 
have  been  separated  from  the  earth,  since, 
during  the  eight  hours  while  the  meteoric 
shower   lasted,  —  and   perhaps,  in  all  its 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


335 


wide  range,  it  lasted  nnicli  longer, — the 
eartli  moved  in  its  orbit  through  tlie  space 
of  nearly  live  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
miles. 

In  connection  with  the  account  of  this 
meteoric  showei",  mention  may  be  made  of 
a  remarkable  light,  seen  in  the  east  at  the 
time  of  tliat  great  display,  and  subse- 
quently in  the  west  after  twilight  at  differ- 
ent times,  until  the  month  of  May,  which 
light  assumed  different  aspects,  corre- 
sponding, apparently,  to  those  which  the 
body  revolving  around  the  sun,  in  the 
manner  contemplated  by  theory,  would 
occup3'.  Hence  it  Avas  conjectured,  that 
this  luminous  appearance  proceeded  from 
the  body  itself,  which  afforded  the  mete- 
oric shower.  It  has  also  been  suggested, 
that  this  light  may  result  from  the  same 
cause  as  the  zodiacal  light,  and  that  the 
latter  interesting  phenomenon  perhaps  re- 
sults from  a  nebulous  body  revolving 
around  the  sun,  interior  to  the  orbit  of  the 
earth. 

It  is  a  point  worthy  of  contemplation, 
namel}'',  the  direful  effects  Avhich  such  a 
"fiery  shower"  might,  in  the  absence  of 
that  law  of  harmony  which  governs  the 
universe,  have  unquestionably  produced. 
Had  the  meteors  been  constituted  of  mate- 
rials a  little  more  dense,  their  momentum 
would  have  enabled  them  to  reach  the 
earth ;  and  had  they  held  on  their  course 
three  seconds  longer,  it  is  impossible  to 
conceive  of  the  calamities  which  would 
have  ensued  by  the  descent  to  the  earth  of 
bodies  of  such  magnitude,  glowing  with 
the  most  intense  heat.  Half  the  continent 
must  have  been  involved  in  one  common 
destruction  ! 

One  of  the  most  interesting  facts  per- 
taining to  this  grand  celestial  phenomenon, 
is  its  periodical  character.  Between  the 
years  903  and  1833,  of  the  modern  era, 
thirteen  of  these  great  showers  are  re- 
corded, separated  from  each  other  by  inter- 
vals of  thirty-three  and  sixty-six  j'ears. 
It  is  not  a  little  remarkable,  too,  that  the 
ejDoch  of  these  periodic  displays  coincides 
with  the  annual  November  showers  so 
familiar    in   their   occurrence    to  all,   and 


that  their  point  of  divergence  in  the  heav- 
ens is  the  same.  Indeed,  the  phenomenon 
of  the  long  interval  or  period  differs  from 
that  of  the  annual  period  only  in  its 
numerical  character. 

The  last  of  these  magnificent  stellar 
showers — second,  ])erhaps,  in  grandeur  of 
demonstration  to  that  of  November,  1833, 
which  latter  stands  solitaiy  in  its  unsur- 
[)assed  extent  and  splendor,  —  occurred 
November  fourteenth,  1867,  beginning  at 
about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning.  At 
half-past  three,  a  meteor  of  a  greenish  blue 
color,  and  about  the  size  of  a  star  of  the 
first  magnitude,  shot  out  from  the  direc- 
tion of  the  constellation  Leo,  lighting  up 
the  sky  with  a  long  train  of  crimson  fire, 
and  traveling  in  a  north-westerly  direction. 
It  had  scarcel}' faded  from  the  sight,  when 
another  and  equally  brilliant,  though  not 
quite  so  large,  came  speeding  along  in  its 
track,  and  it  was  followed  by  fourteen  of 
smaller  magnitude,  one  by  one,  in  quick 
succession.  At  this  moment  a  heavy 
cloud  drifted  towards  the  north,  and  for 
some  minutes  the  spectacle  was  partially 
lost  to  view.  That  the  meteors  were  fall- 
ing rapidly,  however,  was  plainly  evident; 
for,  from  all  points  where  the  mass  oi 
clouds  Avas  thin,  occasional  meteors  flashed 
out,  and  the  frequent  lighting  up  of  the 
clouds,  as  they  passed  over,  left  no  doubt 
that  the  mysterious  phenomenon  was 
having  full  play  in  the  regions  beyond. 

At  ten  minutes  before  four  o'clock,  the 
northern  sky  again  became  clear ;  a  thick 
and  almost  impenetrable  cloud  passed  over 
the  moon,  partiallj^  obscuring  its  light, 
and  thus  enabling  the  observers  to  view 
with  greater  distinctness  the  size  and  bril- 
liancy of  the  meteors. 

The  display  was  now  a  most  magnifi- 
cent one  indeed.  The  meteors  shot  out 
from  Leo  in  all  directions,  and  with 
remarkable  swiftness  traveled  across  the 
horizon.  Sixty-three  were  counted  in  one 
minute  and  ten  seconds,  of  which  three 
were  of  extraordinary  size  and  beauty. 
One  of  these,  of  a  greenish  hue,  and  fol- 
lowed by  a  long  train  of  the  same  color, 
traveled  in  the  direction  of  Ursa  Major, 


336 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


and  as  it  was  disappearing  in  the  southern 
horizon,  apparently  burst,  lighting  up  the 
sky  for  a  great  distance  on  all  sides.  It 
soon  became  utterly  impossible  to  keep  any 
correct  account  of  the  number  falling. 
Eight,  ten  and  twelve  sped  onwards,  on 
their  erratic  course,  at  the  same  moment, 
scarcely  disappearing  before  others  of 
equal  splendor  took  their  places.  For 
fully  twenty  minutes  they  continued  to 
fall  with  the  same  rapidity,  during  which 
time,  there  were  counted,  exclusive  of  those 
already  mentioned,  three  hundred  and 
thirteen.  This  number,  however,  was  not 
one-fifth  of  that  which  really  fell,  as 
observed  in  New  York  city.  Not  less 
than  fifteen  hundred  or  two  thousand  Avere 
estimated  by  observers  at  that  city,  to 
have  radiated  from  Leo,  during  this  space 
of  time,  some  of  which  were  splendid  in 
color  and  movement. 

One  of  the  meteors  constituting  this 
display  is  described  as  of  surpassing 
beauty,  size  and  brilliancy.  It  radiated 
from  Leo,  and  took  a  direct  northerly 
course  toward  Ursa  Major,  followed  by  a 
long  train  of  a  yellowish  red  hue,  which 
spanned  the  horizon  from  its  point  of 
appearance  to  that  of  its  disappearance. 
This  meteor  was  of  the  same  greenish  blue 
color   as    the    others   which   preceded    it, 


and  as  it  passed  over  about  one-half  of  the 
course  traversed,  it  seemed  to  burst,  and 
then  the  spectacle  was  one  of  extreme 
beauty.  Apparently,  hundreds  of  frag- 
ments of  an  almost  blood-red  color  broke 
fi'om  it  and  scattered  in  every  direction, 
while  it  continued  its  course  towards  the 
north,  no  longer  wearing  its  greenish-blue 
color,  but  of  one  uniform  and  beautiful 
blue.  The  j^anorama  it  presented  Avas 
exceedingly  grand,  and  lasted  about  three 
minutes,  before  the  varied  colors  disap- 
peared and  the  fire-lit  skies  resumed  their 
wonted  serenity.  After  the  appearance  of 
this,  the  display  gradually  died  away. 

Although  it  is  doubtful,  from  the  want 
of  the  requisite  data,  whether  the  source 
of  the  meteors,  or  the  height  of  the  mete- 
oric cloud,  has  been  accurately  ascertained, 
3'et  the  truth  in  regard  to  the  latter  may 
be  approximated.  According  to  the  estab- 
lished laws  of  falling  bodies,  the  velocity 
the  meteors  would  acquire  in  falling  from 
a  point  two  thousand  two  hundred  and 
thirty-eight  miles  above  the  earth  to  within 
fifty  miles  of  its  surface — this  being  con- 
sidered as  nearly  the  height  of  the  atmos- 
phere— is  about  four  miles  per  second, 
which,  is  more  than  ten  times  the  maxi- 
mum velocity  of  a  cannon-ball,  and  about 
nineteen  times  that  of  sound ! 


XXXVII. 

ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT   JACKSON, 
AT   THE   UNITED   STATES   CAPITOL   IN  WASHING- 
TON,  BY    RICHAKD   LAWRENCE.— 1835. 


Failure  of  the  Pistols  to  Discharge — Tlie  President  Kushes  Furiously  Upon  His  Assailant,  and  is 
l?estrained  from  Executinjj;  Summary  Vengeance  only  by  His  Friends. — Political  Hostility  Supposed, 
at  First,  to  Have  Instigated  the  Act. — Lawrence  Proves  to  be  a  Lunatic,  Without  Accomplices. — His 
History  and  Trial. — Funeral  of  a  Member  of  Conj^ress  — Great  Concourse  at  the  Capitol. — President 
Jackson  and  Cabinet  Present. — Lawrence  Knters  During  the  Sermon  — Moves  to  the  Kastern  Portico. 
— President  Jackson  Leaves  with  Secretary  Woodbury. — Their  Carriage  at  the  Portico  Stei)S. — 
Approach  to  Lawrence's  Position  — He  Levels  a  Pistol  at  Jackson. — Explosion  of  the  Percussion  Cap. 
—  A  Second  Pistol  Snapped. — Jackson  Raises  His  Cane  Fiercely. —  Lion-Like  E^nergy  of  the  Old  Hero. 
— Is  with  Difficulty  Kept  Back. — Lawrence  Stunned  and  Secured  —His  Perfect  Calmness  Through 
All. — The  Crowd  Wish  to  Kill  Him.— Fine  Appearance  of  the  Assassin — Frank  Avowal  of  His 
Motives. — Insane  Idea  Possessing  Him.— Claims  to  be  a  King. — Is  Confined  in  a  Madhouse. 


"  Let  me  go.  ■;entlemen  I    I  am  not  afraid— they  can't  kill  me— I  can  protect  myself  I  "—Jackson's  E.xclamatio.v  when  Rusiiixo 
CPOM  TiiK  Assassin. 


^  IKE  wildfire  on   the  flowing  prairie,  did  the  announcement  of   the    attempted 

assassination  of  President  Andrew  Jackson,  on  the 
thirtieth  of  January,  1835,  spread  over  tlie  country, 
to  its  furthermost  limits.  Consternation  filled  the 
public  mind,  at  the  thought  that  the  tragical  mode 
of  dealing  with  the  crowned  heads  of  kingdoms  and 
empires,  had  at  last  been  tried — though  fortunately 
with  abortive  result — upon  the  person  of  the  popu- 
larly elected  ruler  of  a  free  republic  ! 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  day  above-named,  while 
President  Jackson  was  in  the  capitol,  in  attendance 
on  the   funeral   of   the   Hon.   Warren   R.   Davis,  of 
THE  PRESERVATION.  Soutli     CaroHua,    Richard      Lawrence,     a    painter, 

residing  in  Washington,  attempted  to  shoot  him.  This  individual  was  seen 
to  enter  the  hall  of  the  house  of  representatives  during  the  delivery  of  the  funeral 
sermon ;  before  its  close,  however,  he  had  taken  his  stand  on  the  eastern 
portico,  near  one  of  the  columns.  The  president,  with  the  secretary  of  the 
treasury  on  his  left  arm,  on  retiring  from  the  rotunda  to  reach  his  carriage  at  the 
steps  of  the  portico,  advanced  towards  the  spot  where  Lawrence  stood, — who  had  his 
pistol    concealed    under    his    coat,  —  and  when  he  approached  within  two  yards  and 

99 


IT' 


338 


OUE  FIRST  CENTUKY.— 1776-1876. 


a  half  of  him,  the  assassin  extended  his 
arm  and  leveled  the  pistol  at  the  presi- 
dent's breast.  The  percussion  cap  ex- 
})luded  with  a  noise  so  great,  that  several 
witnesses  supposed  the  pistol  had  fired. 
On  the  instant,  the  assassin  dropped  the 
pistol  from  his  right  hand,  and  taking 
another  read}'  cocked  from  his  left,  pre- 
sented and  snapped  it  at  the  president, 
who  at  the  moment  raised  his  cane  and 
made  for  the  assailant  with  lion-like 
energy,  and  would  have  executed  summary 
vengeance ;  but  Secretary  Woodbury  and 
Lieutenant  Gedney  at  the  same  instant 
laid  hold  of  the  man,  who  gave  way 
through  the  crowd  and  was  at  last  knocked 
down,  the  president  pressing  after  him 
until  he  saw  he  was  secured.  The  presi- 
dent's friends  then  urged  him  to  go  to  the 
cai)itol,  which  the  brave-hearted  man  did, 
with  great  firmness  and  self-possession, 
though  during  the  eventful  moment  the 
president's  commanding  voice  was  heard 
above  all  others,  as,  tearing  himself  from 
his  friends  and  rushing  upon  the  assassin, 
he  said,  "  Let  me  go,  gentlemen, — I  am  not 
afraid — fheg  can't  hill  me — I  can  j^^'otert 
myself!  "  As  soon  as  the  act  was  known 
to  the  crowd,  they  wished  to  kill  the  assas- 
sin on  the  spot. 

Lawrence  was  forthwith  carried  to  jail, 
after  a  brief  jireliminary  examination 
before  Judge  Cranch.  At  this  examina- 
tion, ]\[r.  Iiandol[)h,  sergeant  of  the  house 
of  representatives,  who  attended  the  mar- 
shal to  conduct  the  prisoner  to  the  city 
hall,  gave  in  testimony  that  the  prisoner, 
when  asked  bj'  the  marshal  what  motive 
he  had  to  make  his  horrid  attempt,  stated 
that  the  president  hud  killed  his  father. 
His  father  was  an  Englishman  who  died 
many  years  ago  in  AVashington.  The  son 
himself  was  apprenticed  afterwards  to  a 
!Mr.  Clark,  with  whom  he  lived  three  years. 
Mr.  Clark,  when  called  upon,  said  that  he 
was  a  young  man  of  excellent  habits,  sober 
and  industrious;  that  he  had  seen  him 
very  frequently,  and  was  well  acquaiiited 
with  him  since  he  had  left  his  family,  and 
had  lieard  nothing  to  his  disadvantage, 
until,  of  late,  he  was  informed  of  his  being 


quarrelsome   among  his  friends,    and  had 
treated  one  of  his  sisters  badly. 

The  total  absence  of  any  personal  motive 
on  the  part  of  the  prisoner  to  commit  the 
deed  he  attempted,  suggested  the  idea  that 
he  must  be  insane.  But  his  demeanor 
when  committing  the  act,  and  on  being 
seized,  as  well  as  when  examined,  bore  not 
the  slightest  appearance  of  frenzy,  or 
derangement  of  any  sort.  When  asked 
by  the  court  if  he  wished  to  cross-examine 
the  witnesses,  or  to  make  explanation,  he 
answered  in  the  negative — said  that  those 
who  had  seen  the  act  could  state  the  facts 
— and  at  the  conclusion,  when  asked  if  he 
had  anything  to  offer,  said  that  he  could 
not  contradict  what  had  been  given  in 
evidence.  In  the  midst  of  the  excitement 
and  anxiet}'  which  prevailed  around  him, 
Lawrence  aj'peared  perfectly  calm  and 
collected;  and  the  president,  in  speaking 
of  the  event,  remarked  that  Lawrence's 
manner,  from  the  moment  his  eye  caught 
his,  was  firm  and  resolved,  until  the  failure 
of  his  last  pistol,  when  he  seemed  to  shrink, 
rather  than  resist. 

Lawrence  was  a  handsome  young  man 
of  about  thirty -five  years,  small  in  stature, 
pale  complexion,  black  hair,  dark  eyes, 
genteel  deportment,  and  well-dressed.  The 
keeper  of  the  rotunda  stated  that  he  had 
frequently  observed  the  man  about  the 
capitol,  so  frequently  that  he  had  endeav- 
ored to  draw  him  into  conversation,  but 
found  him  taciturn  and  unwilling  to  talk. 
On  the  day  in  question,  he  kept  prowling 
about,  but  did  not  come  within  the  railing 
near  the  members'  seats;  his  hand  was 
held  inside  his  vest,  as  if  grasping  some- 
thing, and  his  lips  were  i)ale  and  quiver- 
ing. On  his  pistols  being  taken  from  him, 
after  the  affair,  they  were  found  to  be  a 
very  elegant  pair,  in  most  excellent  order, 
and  loaded  with  powder  and  ball  almost  to 
the  muzzle,  the  barrels  being  about  six 
inches  long.  On  examining  the  load  in 
one  of  the  pistols,  a  ball  was  drawn  out  by 
means  of  a  screw,  about  sixt}'  of  which 
balls  would  liave  made  a  pound ;  it  was 
well  packed,  and  forced  down  tight  on  a 
full  charge  of  excellent  glazed  jiowder.    It 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


339 


was  a  most  astonishing  circumstance, 
loaded  as  they  were  and  with  percussion 
caps,  that  the  pistols  missed  lire.  In  view 
of  this  latter  tact,  Mr.  Key,  the  district 
attorney,  and  General  Hunter,  the  marshal 
of  the  district,  lost  no  time  in  testing  the 
actual  condition  of  the  weapons,  the  pistol 
still  loaded  being  first  tried,  by  putting  on 
another  cap.  The  tube  of  this  pistol 
showed  the  powder  at  its  summit.  Gen- 
eral Hunter,  b}'  inclining  the  j>istol,  threw 
out  a  few  grains  of  the  powder  in  his 
hand.     Tliey  took  from  a  box  of  caps  found 


each  of  the  pistols,  several  times,  without 
taking  any  other  means  of  forcing  the 
jiuwdur  into  the  tubes  than  that  of  ram- 
ming home  small  paper  wads  on  the 
charges.  The  discharge  of  the  weapons 
took  effect  on  every  trial.  So  great  was 
the  excitement  produced  by  the  affair, 
that  some  of  the  most  eminent  political 
opponents  of  the  })resident,  including  such 
men  as  Clay,  Calhoun,  Poindexter,  AVhite, 
and  others,  were,  in  the  frenzy  of  the 
moment,  suspected  of  having  conspired  in 
a  plut  to  get  rid  of  the  president ! 


ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATIOIS^  OF  PRESIDENT  JACKSON. 


in  Lawrence's  shop  without  selecting  it, 
one,  which  was  placed  upon  the  tube.  On 
Major  Donelson  firing  it,  the  ball  passed 
through  an  inch  plank,  at  a  distance  of 
about  five  or  six  yards,  and  lodged,  nearly 
buried,  in  the  opposite  side  of  the  enclos- 
ure, six  or  seven  yards  distant.  They 
then  loaded  with  a  small  quantity  of  the 
powder  found  in  the  prisoner's  possession, 


It  was  ascertained  that,  some  time  pre- 
vious, Lawrence  had  formed  an  attachment 
to  a  young  lady,  and  frequently  told  his 
sister  that  he  would  by  his  industry  soon 
be  enabled  to  buy  a  corner  lot  near  her, 
and  build  on  it  a  good  house,  when  he 
would  marry  the  object  of  his  attachment; 
and,  with  this  view,  he  labored  diligently, 
day  and  night,  until  he  had  by  him  about 


340 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


eight  hundred  dollars.  He  was  disap- 
pointed— became  extremel}'  pensive — quit 
all  employment  —  and  would  stand  for 
hours  in  a  little  parlor,  gazing  upon  the 
spot  which  he  had  selected  as  his  future 
residence.  Up  to  this  time,  he  was  quiet, 
kind  and  affectionate. 

His  brother-in-law,  with  whom  he  lived, 
endeavored  to  persuade  Lawrence  to 
resume  his  work — he  said  that  he  would 
go  to  England,  that  he  had  something  of 
great  importance  which  demanded  his 
presence,  and  in  the  fall  of  1833  went  to 
New  York  for  the  purpose  of  taking  pas- 
sage from  that  port.  During  the  winter 
he  returned,  saying  that  he  found  the 
papers  filled  with  notices  of  his  contem- 
plated enterprise,  and  that  he  could  get  no 
captain  to  take  him  on  hoard.  In  the 
spring  of  1834,  he  again  went  as  far  as 
Pliiladelphia,  put  up  at  the  Mansion  House, 
]<.ept  his  room,  or  else  would  stand  for 
hours  on  the  jiorch,  engaged  in  deep 
thought,  without  speaking  to  any  one. 
After  a  few  days  he  returned  to  Washing- 
ton, and  said  that  he  found  his  purpose  of 
going  to  England  was  known,  that  none  of 
the  captains  would  consent  to  take  him  on 
board,  but  that  he  would  soon  have  a  vessel 
of  his  own — that  he  had  engaged  men  who 
would  put  all  tilings  right.  About  this 
time  he  became  very  quarrelsome,  and  his 
relatives  were  afraid  to  keep  him  in  the 
house.  His  brother-in-law  endeavored 
again  to  induce  him  to  go  to  work,  which 
he  obstinately  refused  to  do,  saying  that 
his  hands  would  do  no  more  work — that 
others  might  work,  but,  as  for  him,  lie 
would  soon  have  money  enough.  At 
length,  he  committed  an  assault  upon  his 
sister,  for  which  he  was  handed  over  to  the 
officers  of  justice,  and  lodged  in  jail.  The 
case  Avas  carried  before  the  grand  jury, 
only  a  short  time  previous  to  the  assault 
on  the  president,  and,  after  an  examina- 
tion of  witnesses  who  knew  him,  tlic  grand 
jury  refused  to  find  a  bill  against  him,  on 
the  ground  of  his  insanity. 

In  a  conversation  between  Lawrence 
and  some  visitors,  held  soon  after  the  rasli 
ai-t,  the  following  curious  statements  were 


made   by   the   prisoner,   in    reply    to    the 
questions  put  to  him  : 

"  What  object  had  you  in  view  in  shoot- 
ing the  president  ?  " 

"About  ten  days  before  making  the 
attempt,  I  called  on  the  president  at  his 
house,  and  stated  to  him  that  I  was  in 
want  of  money,  and  wished  him  to  give  a 
check  for  it.  The  president  made  no  par- 
ticular objection  to  this  demand,  but  stated 
that  Mr.  Dibble  wished  to  see  him,  and 
that  I  must  call  again." 

"Do  you  suppose  the  president  knew  of 
your  intention  to  kill  him  ?  " 

'•  He  must  have  known  what  my  inten- 
tion was,  if  he  did  not  comply  with  my 
wishes." 

"Why  did  you  call  iipon  the  president 
with  such  a  demand  ?  " 

"  Because  he  knew,  as  I  supposed  every 
person  did,  the  true  situation  of  things. 
The  president  is  my  clerk,  and  I  have 
control  over  his  money  and  his  bank,  and 
the  sword  ;  and  if  he  refused  to  comply, 
he  knew  the  consequences." 

"  By  what  means  did  you  expect  to 
enforce  compliance  with  your  wishes,  and 
how  much  money  did  you  expect  to  get  ?  " 

"The  president  knew  I  had  the  right  to 
the  money,  and,  if  he  refused,  that  I  had 
the  right  to  kill  him.  One  or  two  thou- 
sand dollars  would  have  satisfied  me,  but 
I  would  have  accepted  three  or  four  hun- 
dred." 

"  How  came  the  president  to  know  that 
you  had  the  right  ?  " 

"Because  there  was  an  understanding, 
and  it  would  have  been  taking  the  law  in 
his  own  hands  to  refuse." 

"Did  you  expect  any  aid  in  your  under- 
taking to  kill  the  president?" 

"No,  I  needed  none.  I  have  the  right 
to  the  crown  of  England.  It  has  always 
been  in  my  ancestors.  They  were  deprived 
of  it  by  force.  My  father  was  then  re- 
duced to  labor,  and  had  to  drive  a  coal  cart 
in  England.  He  was  fond  of  hunting, 
riding,  and  shooting,  and  was  frequently 
called  on  by  noblemen  and  persons  of  dis- 
tinction, notwithstanding  his  reduced  cir- 
cumstances." 


GREAT  AND  jMEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


341 


''  How  came  Genenil  Jackson  to  get  the 
power  over  >'our  riglits  and  money  ?  " 

"  The  tirst  cause  was  what  took  phice 
at  Orleans.  He  leatiriied  in  with  Lord 
Wellington,  and  the  consequence  was,  that 
out  of  twenty-five  thousand  English  sol- 
diers sent  over,  only  a  small  remnant  was 
left ;  with  the  aid  of  cotton-bags  fixed  by 
Jackson,  they  were  wasted  away.  A 
number  of  officers  were  drafted  for  this 
campaign,  among  tliem  Pakenham  and 
Gibbs,  and  they  were  killed.  This  is  the 
unjust  treatment  my  father  received  on 
that  occasion,  and  it  is  my  business  to  put 
things  right — I  have  the  power — Jackson 
is  my  clerk — he  knew  what  would  be  the 
consequence  of  refusing  to  obey." 

"  If  you  were  now  set  at  liberty,  would 
you  endeavor  to  go  on  with  your  determin- 
ation ?  " 

"  After  a  while,  I  should  call  on  the 
president  for  the  money,  and  if  he  refused, 
I  would  pursue  the  same  plan  I  did 
before." 

On  the  day  appointed  for  the  trial  of 
Lawrence,  he  a[)peared  in  court  dressed  in 
a  gray  coat,  black  cravat  and  vest,  and 
brown  pantaloons.  His  conduct  was  that  of 
a  man  perfectly  at  his  ease,  and  collected, 
though  his  eyes  showed  indications  of 
mania,  and  there  was  an  evident  assump- 
tion of  kingly  dignity  in  his  demeanor 
and  the  expression  of  his  countenance. 
He  took  hi-s  seat,  however,  very  quietly  by 
the  side  of  his  counsel,  and  conversed 
smilingly  with  them.  That  his  appear- 
ance was  decidedly  handsome  and  prepos- 
sessing, was  the  opinion  universally  ex- 
pressed. 

The  witnesses  having  been  called  into 
court,  Mr.  Key,  the  prosecuting  attorney, 
commenced  some  observations  to  the 
bench,  when — up  jumped  Lawrence  from 
his  chair,  under  evident  excitement  of 
mind,  and  said  he  wished  to  know  whether 
it  was  correct  to  bring  him  or  not  ?  He 
claimed  the  crown  of  Great  Britain,  he 
said,  and  also  that  of  the  United  States ; 
and  he  wished  to  know  if  they  could  bring 
him  there  ?  The  judge  desired  him  to 
take  his  seat,  and  to  allow  his  counsel  to 


manage  liis  case  for  him.  Lawrence  com- 
plied, but  still  continued  the  subject,  in 
conversation  with  his  counsel.  The  latter 
now  inquired  of  the  court,  whether,  as  this 
was  simply  the  case  of  a  misdemeanor,  the 
presence  of  the  prisoner,  considering  his 
state  of  mind,  might  not  be  dispensed  with. 
Lawrence  again  rose,  and  addressed  the 
court,  saying,  "  I  wish  to  know,  if,  having, 

as  I  have,  the  sword ."     He  was  again 

stopped.  His  counsel  once  more,  but  still 
without    success,   appealed  to   the   bench, 


RICHARD  LAWRENCE. 

to  allow  the  prisoner  to  be  removed, 
saj'ing  that  he  had  done  all  he  could  to 
quiet  the  man's  feelings,  but  had  not  been 
able  to  present  any  course  of  which  he 
•would  make  choice.  The  judge  replied, 
that  it  was  alwaj^s  customary  for  the  pris- 
oner to  be  in  court,  in  cases  like  this;  he 
wished  the  trial  to  proceed  in  the  ordinary 
wa}'.  On  i^roceeding  to  call  the  panel,  the 
following  passage  ensued : 

''  I  observe,"  said  Lawrence,  "  that  a 
jury  has  been  called.  I  wish  to  know  if 
this  is  correct.     I  certainly  am  king  !  " 

"  You  must  sit  down,"  commanded  the 
judge,  "and  be  quiet,  Mr.  Lawrence,  until 
called  on  to  answer." 

Lawrence  sat  down  ;  but  not  until  he 
had  reiterated  the  assertion  that  he  was 
king  of  Great  Britain,  and  likewise  of 
America,  and  that  he  was  protected  by  the 
law  in  his  claim. 

On  the  examination  of  witnesses,  Sec- 
retary Woodbury  testified  as  follows  :  On 
the  occasion  of  the  funeral  ceremon}'  which 
took  place  in  the  hall  of  the  house  of  rep- 
resentatives, in  consequence  of  the  death 
of  one  of  its  members,  I  attended,  together 


342 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


witli  the  president  and  other  officei'S  of  the 
government ;  had  listened  to  tlie  funeral 
service  in  the  hall;  left  it;  the  president 
being  on  my  right  arm,  had  passed  through 
the  rotunda,  and  through  the  eastern  door, 
where  we  came  rather  to  a  halt — being  in 
the  rear, — in  consequence  of  the  delay 
occasioned  by  the  gentlemen  who  had  pre- 
ceded us  getting  into  the  coaches.  We 
had  perhaps  passed  some  two  or  three  steps 
on  to  the  portico,  when  I  lieard  a  noise 
like  the  discharge  of  a  pistol ;  looked 
round  directly,  and  there  saw  a  person, 
about  six  or  eight  feet,  a  little  obliquely'  to 
the  left,  who  was  just  in  the  act  of  lower- 
ing his  hand  when  my  eye  caught  him. 
It  was  the  prisoner  at  the  bar.  Saw  him 
distinctly  when  I  turned,  and  saw  the 
pistol  in  his  hand;  presumed  he  was  the 
person  who  fired.  It  was  directed  right 
towards  the  jiresident.  At  first  I  doubted 
whether  it  was  not  myself  who  was  aimed 
at,  but  saw  that  it  was  towards  the  presi- 
dent, who  was  on  my  right;  turned  to  the 
president  to  see  if  he  was  injured,  and, 
seeing  that  he  was  not,  I  turned  to  look 
for  the  prisoner.  He  was  then  in  the  act 
of  raising  his  hand  again  ;  had  something 
in  it;  presumed  it  was  a  pistol,  I  gave  a 
pull  from  the  president's  arm  and  sprang 
towards  the  prisoner,  seized  him  by  the 
collar,  and  at  that  moment  the  second 
explosion  took  place.  Other  persons  had 
previously  got  hold  of  him,  which  proceed- 
ing appeared  to  have  rather  put  him  out  of 
his  first  position  ;  they  continued  to  pull 
him,  with  some  violence,  in  a  somewhat 
opposite  direction.  Seeing  he  was  secured, 
and  that  there  was  reason  to  believe  he 
had  no  other  weapon,  I  let  go  my  hold  to 
learn  what  was  the  state  of  the  president. 
The  prisoner  was  dragged  forwards  towards 
the  front  of  the  piazza.  I  saw  no  more  of 
liini  until  I  saw  him  here  an  hour  after. 
Found  the  president  in  the  crowd,  and  went 
home  with  him. 

Secretary  Dickerson  stated  the  circum- 
stances of  the  assault,  as  observed  by  him, 
to  be  as  follows  :  I  went  with  other  gentle- 
men of  the  cabinet,  to  the  capitol,  on  the 
day   of   the   funeral   of  the   Hon,  W.  K. 


Davis.  After  the  service  in  the  hall,  the 
procession  moved  forward  towards  the 
eastern  colonnade,  there  being  a  great 
crowd.  I  was  a  little  to  the  rear  of  the 
president,  and  at  the  door  of  the  colonnade 
there  was  a  halt,  which  brought  me  uj) 
nearly  to  his  side.  I  had  advanced,  I 
think,  about  two  steps  from  the  door,  when 
I  heard  the  discharge  of  a  pocket  pistol ; 
have  certainly  heard  such  pistols  dis- 
charged without  making  a  louder  report — 
it  being  in  the  colonnade  might  have 
increased  the  sound.  ()n  turning  my  eye, 
I  saw  that  some  men  had  laid  hold  of  an 
individual.  I  was  to  the  left  of  the  presi- 
dent, and  saw  Lieutenant  Gedney,  who 
seemed  to  be  trj'ing  to  get  the  man  down, 
but  I  could  not  see  the  man.  It  was  some 
seconds  before  the  prisoner  could  get  at 
his  other  pistol,  and  when  he  did,  from  his 
altered  position,  he  had  to  throw  his  arm 
over  to  get  aim  at  the  president.  The 
latter  must  have  been  struck,  had  a  dis- 
charge taken  place.  In  an  instant  from 
this  time,  the  prisoner  was  crushed  to  the 
floor,  but  was  soon  raised  again.  Mr. 
Gillet,  a  member  of  congress  from  New 
York  state,  a  very  strong  man,  had  hold 
of  him,  as  also  had  Lieutenant  Gedney. 
I  looked  at  the  prisoner,  and  kept  my  e^'e 
on  him,  so  as  to  be  certain  of  his  identity. 
About  the  instant  the  second  explosion 
took  place,  the  president  had  lifted  his 
stick  to  strike  the  prisoner,  but  made  no 
blow,  being  prevented  by  his  friends.  The 
crowd  coming  out  at  the  door  was  very 
great.  The  president  spoke  angrily  to 
those  who  prevented  him  from  getting 
at  Lawrence,  saying,  "  Let  me  alone ! 
Let  me  alone ! "  I  recollect  hearing 
him  also  say,  "he  knew  where  this  came 
from  !  " 

After  some  further  evidence  on  the  part 
of  the  prosecution,  the  prisoner's  counsel 
asked  permission  of  the  judges  that  Law- 
rence might  leave  the  court,  saying  that  it 
was  painful  to  them  all  to  have  him 
remain — particularly  so  to  himself,  as  his 
counsel, — and  the  law  did  not  require  his 
presence.  Lawrence  now  rose,  and  ad- 
dressed the  judges  wildly,  saying — 


GREAT  AND  MEMOKABLK  KVENl'^. 


343 


"  Wliat  I  have  doiio  to  Jatlvson,  was  on 
account  of  money  wliirli  lio  owes  me.  I 
went  tliere  for  tliat  juirpose.  I  consider 
all  in  this  court  as  umler  me.  Tlie  United 
States  bank  has  owed  me  money  ever  since 
1802,  and  I  want  my  money.  I  must 
have  my  revenue  from  that  bank.  You 
arc  under  me,  gentlemen.  (Mr.  Wood- 
ward, the  deputy-marshal,  endeavoring  to 
prevail  on  liim  to  resume  his  seat^  Law- 
rence turned  round,  indignantly,  and  said, 
'Mr.  Woodwavd !  mind  i/ou.)'  own  business, 
or  I  shall  treat  yoxi  with  ser^erit]//')  It  is 
for  me,  gentlemen,  to  pass  upon  jou,  and 
not  you  upon  me." 

Again  did  the  counsel  appeal  to  the 
feelings  of  the  court  to  spare  itself,  and 
the  jury,  tliis  painful  exhibition,  by  per- 
mitting Lawrence  to  depart  in  custody  of 
the  marshal.  He,  the  counsel,  felt,  for  his 
own  part,  that  he  could  not  do  justice  to 
the  cause  of  the  prisoner,  if  he  sat  beside 
him  ;  the  very  fact,  that  he  should  take  a 
course  in  the  defense  of  the  prisoner  with 
which  he  was  displeased,  would  prevent  it. 
Tlie  court  replied,  that  Lawrence  should 
remain  until  proven  to  be  insane;  he 
would,  however,  be  permitted  to  withdraw, 
if  it  was  his  own  wish  so  to  do.  The 
unfortunate  maniac  here  shouted  out — 

"  I  deny  the  power  of  the  court  to  try 
me — I  am  my  own  man — I  will  have  my 
revenue  I " 

Lawrence's  counsel  here  endeavored  to 
soothe  him,  by  telling  him  he  should  have 
his  rights.  "Ay,  but  when?"  "To- 
day," replied  his  counsel ;  and  he  sat  down, 
contentedly,  on  this  assurance. 

It  was,  of  course,  not  at  all  diflficult  for 
the  prisoner's  counsel  to  prove  his  insanity 
and  consequent  irresponsibleness.  Mr. 
Redfern,  who  married  Lawrence's  sister, 
testified  on  this  point,  to  the  following 
effect :  I  have  known  Lawrence  for  sixteen 
years,  and  first  observed  a  change  in  him 
in  1833.  In  the  fall  of  1832  he  left  Wash- 
ington with  the  intention,  he  said,  of  going 
to  England;  he  went  in  November,  and 
returned  again  in  December,  assigning  as 
a  reason,  that  the  weather  was  cold.  In 
the  spring  of  the    next  year,  he   started 


again  to  go  to  New  York  or  rhiladeli)hia, 
lint  he  certainly  got  no  farther  than  IMiila- 
delphia  ;  on  his  return  this  time,  he  siid  the 
peojde  would  not  let  him  go,  that  tlie  gov- 
ernment opi)osed  his  going,  that  I  and 
others  had  prevented  him  ;  that  he  should 
not  be  able  to  go  UTitil  he  got  a  ship  and 
captain  of  his  own, — that,  when  he  got  to 
Philadelphia,  he  found  all  the  pajiers  so 
full  altout  him,  that  he  was  obliged  to 
come  back.  After  this,  he  remained  in 
my  house  six  months,  but  did  nothing, 
saying  he  had  no  occasion  tolal>or,  that  he 
lived  on  his  people, — it  was  very  well  for 
men  such  as  me  to  work,  but  he  had  no 
such  need,  that  he  had  large  claims  on  this 
government  ■whicli  were  now  before  con- 
gress. He  used  to  attend  congress  regu- 
larly. In  January,  1834,  he  left  my 
house,  but,  previous  to  this,  had  got  quar- 
relsome with  his  sister,  said  the  colored 
girl  laughed  at  him  and  that  he  would  kill 
her,  and  that  other  people  also  laughed  at 
him.  He  struck  all  his  sisters  on  several 
occasions,  and  once  took  up  a  four-pound 
weight  to  throw  at  my  wife.  I  have  seen 
him  pass  since  this  time,  but  never  have 
spoken  to  him  since  1833;  he  would  go 
about  the  house,  without  speaking,  for 
days  together,  but  would  talk  and  laugh 
to  himself  continually  in  his  own  chamber. 
It  was  the  general  impression  of  the  neigh- 
bors, that  Lawrence  was  insane  from  the 
beginning  of  1833. 

The  question  being  put  to  INIr.  Redfern, 
as  to  whether  Lawrence  held  two  estates 
in  Ireland,  the  answer  was  in  the  nega- 
tive. On  asking  Lawrence  the  names  of 
his  estates,  he  replied,  very  gravel}',  "Tre- 
gear  and  Kinnany  !  and  they  are  attached 
to  the  crown  of  England  !  " 

Similar  in  its  bearing,  was  the  testi- 
mony of  Mr.  Drury,  who  had  known  Law- 
rence twenty-five  years,  and  who  stated 
the  following  facts :  Eor  the  last  year  I 
have  observed  a  change  in  his  conduct ;  he 
would  talk  to  himself  continually  in  his 

shop,    sometimes    saying,    ' him,    he 

does  not  know  his  enemy :  I  will  put  a 
pistol — erect  a  rallows.'  He  conceived 
himself  to  be  King  Richard  the  Third,  of 


344 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


England,  and  likewise  king  of  this  coun- 
tr}' ;  this  was  about  the  latter  end  of  last 
December,  or  the  beginning  of  January, 
after  which,  I  heard  him  say,  ' Gen- 
eral Jackson  !  who's  General  Jackson  ?  ' 
On  one  occasion  a  black  boy  called  to  col- 
lect a  bill,  and  Lawrence  said  he  would 
call  and  pay  it;  but,  as  soon  as  the  boy 

had    left,    he    said,   ' him !  he    don't 

know  Avho  he's  dunning ! '  He  would 
stand  at  the  door  for  hours,  Avrapt  in 
thought,  and,  even  when  I  passed,  he  took 
no  notice  of  me.  He  was  continually 
talking  to  himself,  and  would  now  and  then 
burst  into  fits  of  laughter.  I  noticed  no 
particular  change  iu  him  as  to  dress — he 
was  always  fond  of  dress, — but  I  did  in  his 
conduct  and  appearance.  I  have  often 
said  he  was  a  crazy  man,  and  have  heard 
others  say  so ;  the  boys  would  call  him 
'  King  Richari'  On  the  morning  of  his 
attack  on  the  president,  he  came  to  the 
shop  at  the  usual  time,  and  went  to  a  place 
where  I  could  see  him  through  a  partition  ; 
he  was  sitting  on  a  chest,  with  a  book  in 
his  hand,  laughing.  I  heard  soon  after 
the  lid  of  the   chest  fall,  and   heard   him 


say,   '  VLl  be 


if  I  don't  do  it ! '      He 


then  came  out,  left  the  shop,  and  locked 
the  door.  Lawrence  did  some  little  work 
within  the  last  twelve  months,  and  had  a 
shop.     I  had  a  room  adjoining  this. 

Much  testimony  of  the  same  purport  as 
the  preceding  was  brought  forward,  and 
nothing  of  a  conflicting  character  pre- 
sented itself.     The  law,  in  criminal  cases, 


says  that  the  existence  of  reason  is  neces- 
sary to  constitute  punishable  crime — its 
deprivation  renders  the  individual  dispvm- 
ishable.  Acting  upon  this  ground,  several 
physicians  were  examined  iis  to  their  opin- 
ion of  Lawrence's  condition,  judging  from 
the  facts  drawn  out  by  the  evidence,  and 
their  personal  interviews  with  the  prisoner. 
Their  testimony  was  unanimous  in  de- 
claring Lawrence's  state  of  mind  to  be 
that  of  morbid  delusion, — not  possessing  a 
judgment  of  right  and  wrong,  especiall}'  as 
to  an^'thing  connected  with  General  Jack- 
son,— and  therefore  not  to  be  treated  as  a 
moral  agent.  Among  the  ph3'sicians  who 
expresse^l  this  as  their  decided  opinion, 
were  Messrs.  Coussin  and  Thomas  Sewell, 
two  of  the  most  eminent  in  their  profes- 
sion. 

In  accordance  with  the  evidence  thus 
given,  the  jur}'  were  out  only  five  minutes, 
returning  at  once  with  a  verdict  of  ''Not 
guilty,  he  having  been  under  the  influence 
of  insanit}'  at  the  time  of  committing  the 
act."  But,  long  before  the  trial  and  its 
termination,  the  intense  excitement  pro- 
duced by  the  act,  throughout  the  country, 
had  almost  entirely  subsided, — the  first 
impression,  that  the  liorrid  deed  had  been 
prompted  by  secret  political  conspiracy', 
under  partisan  instigation,  rapidly  dying 
away,  as  the  true  character  of  the  man  and 
his  unaided  deed  became  known.  Law- 
rence was  sent  to  a  lunatic  asylum,  where 
he  remained  an  inmate  thirty  or  forty 
years. 


XXXVIII. 
MORSE'S  INVENTION  OF  THE  ELECTRIC  TELEGRAPH,  1835. 


Realization  of  the  Highest  Ideal  of  a  Mechanical  Miracle.— Principle,  Structure,  and  Operation  of  the 
Maciiine.— Net-work  of  Lines  Established  Over  the  Four  Continents.— Tiie  Inventor's  Experiments, 
Labors,  Discouragements,  and  Triumphs  — "  Orders  of  Glory,"  Gifts,  and  other  Honors,  i?estowed 
Upon  Him  by  Crowned  Heads —Casual  Origin  of  the  Invention. — Mr,  M.'s  European  Voyage  in  1832. 
— Recent  French  Experiments  then  Discussed. — Important  Question  and  Answer. — Two  Great  Ex- 
isting Facts  —The  Electric  Spark  Transmissive.— Easy  Control  of  the  Current. — Theory  Applied  to 
Practice —Completion  of  a  Crude  Model  —Private  Exhibition  in  1835 —Simplicity  of  the  Instru- 
ment.—Tiie  Invention  Made  Public  in  1837.— Wonder  and  Increduhty— Appeal  to  Congress  for 
Pecuniary  Aid. — Merciless  Ridicule  Ensues — Scene  in  the  Committee-Room.— A  Machine  at  the 
Capitol —Perfect  in  its  Operation.— Success  of  Morse's  Appeal.— His  Joy  at  the  Decision.— Putting 
up  the  Wires  to  Baltimore. — First  Message  Thi-ough. 


"That steed  called  'Lightning'  (eay  the  Fates) 
Is  owned  in  the  I  nitcd  Statts: 
'  Twas  Fraukhn's  hand  tliat  caught  the  horse; 
'Twae  harnessed  by  Prolessor  Akr.-e." 


HANGING  THE  TELEGRAPH  WIRE. 


INGS    and    courts,    presidents    and    cabinets,    have 
united  in  doing  honor    to  that  illustrious  American 
citizen,  who,  more  than  any  other  maji  of  liis  race, 
has  realized  to  the  human  mind  its  highest  ideal,  or 
conception,  of  a  mechanical  miracle,  through  human 
agency.     It  is  not  claimed  that,  previous  to  Profes- 
sor Morse's  achievement,  the  possibility  of  applying 
electricity  to  telegraphic  communication  had  not  oc- 
cupied other   minds,  but    that  to  him  belongs  the 
high  merit  of  having  effected,  after  years  of  patient 
^    ,^J?  y.     ^^>       study    and    ingenious  experiment, 
a  practical  application  of  the  great 
g^^   scientific  principle  involved. 
^«       In  the   year  1829,   Mr.   Morse, 
who  was  then  an  artist  of  much 
celebrity,  having,  more  than  fifteen 
years  previously,  exhibited  before 
the  Eoyal  Academy  of  England  his 
picture  of  "  The  Dying  Hercules," 
of  colossal  size,  made  a  second  pro- 
fessional visit  to  Europe,  Avhere  he 
remained  three  years ;  and  it  was 
_   this  visit  which  proved,  through  a 
■■^^^^iii^^tt  casual    circumstance,   of    so    much 
^Wm&^^^-  importance  to   himself,  to  science 
r.-.^-^^  ,-%p  and  the  world, — for  it  was  on  his 
'  "'^^'i^  return  in  1832,  on  board  the  ship 
^   Sully,  that  he  made  that  great  dis- 
covery, to  which  is  due  the  present 
system  of  telegraphing.     A  gentle- 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


man  on  board  had  been  describing  some 
experiments  made  in  Paris  with  the 
electro-magnet,  and  the  question  arose  as 
to  tlie  time  occuined  by  the  fluid  in  pass- 
ing throuerh  the  wire,  stated  to  be  one  hun- 
dred  feet  in  length.  On  the  reply  that  it 
was  instantaneous,  Professor  Morse  (recol- 
lecting the  experiments  of  Franklin,) 
suggested  that  it  might  be  carried  to  any 
distance  instantly,  and  that  the  electric 
spark  could  be  made  a  means  of  conveying 
and  recording  intelligence.  Here  was  the 
idea,  but  a  greater  triumph  was  the  appli- 
cation of  the  theory  to  practice,  which  he 
successfully  accomplished,  after  much 
study  and  multitudinous  trials,  in  New 
York,  inhere,  in  1835,  he  put  in  operation 
the  model  of  his  recording  electric  tele- 
r/raph. 

Professor  Morse's  discovery  was  based 
on  these  two  principal  facts,  namely :  that 
a  current  of  electricity  will  pass  to  any  dis- 
tance along  a  conductor  connecting  the  two 
poles  of  a  voltaic  battery,  and  produce 
visible  effects  at  any  desired  points  on  that 
conductor;  also,  that  magnetism  is  pro- 
duced in  a  piece  of  soft  iron,  around  Avhich 
the  conductor,  in  its  progress,  is  made  to 
pass,  when  the  electric  current  is  permit- 
ted to  flow,  and  that  the  magnetism  ceases 
when  the  current  of  electricity  is  prevented 
from  flowing.  Hence,  if  the  end  of  a  soft 
iron  lever  be  placed  beneath  the  iron  to 
be  magnetized,  it  can  be  made  to  rise  and 
fall  as  the  electricity  flows,  or  is  inter- 
rupted. The  other  end  of  the  lever,  having 
a  point  in  it,  may  be  made  to  press  on  a 
strip  of  paper  or  not,  at  the  will  of  the 
operator.  This  point  may  be  made  to  im- 
press a  dot  or  a  line,  at  pleasure.  A  dot 
and  a  line  may  represent  letters,  and  by 
different  combinations  of  dots  and  lines 
any  letter  of  the  alphabet  could  be  repre- 
sented. Tlie  oj^erator  in  one  city  could 
make  the  apparatus  in  another  city,  at  any 
distance,  write  what  he  pleased,  by  break- 
ing and  closing  the  circuit  at  longer  or 
shorter  intervals. 

The  invention,  as  thus  devised  by  Pro- 
fessor Morse,  and  as  described  in  a  popular 
way    by   Antisell,    Pakewcll     and    others, 


is  a  recording  instrument,  that  embosses 
the  symbols  upon  paper,  with  a  point 
pressed  down  upon  it  by  an  electro-magnet ; 
the  symbols  that  form  the  alphabet  con- 
sisting of  combinations  of  short  and  long 
strokes,  and  made  to  stand  for  different 
letters,  by  their  repetitions  and  variations. 
Thus  a  stroke  followed  by  a  dot  signifies 
the  first  letter  of  the  alphabet ;  a  stroke 
preceded  b}'  a  dot,  the  second  letter ;  a 
single  dot,  the  third  letter ;  and  in  this 
manner  the  whole  alphabet  could  easily  be 
indicated,  the  number  of  repetitions  in  no 
case  exceeding  four  for  each  letter, — the 
letters  and  words  being  distinguished  from 
one  another  by  a  longer  space  being  left 
between  them  than  between  each  mark 
that  forms  only  a  part  of  a  letter  or  of  a 
word. 

Simplicity  characterized  this  instrument 
in  an  eminent  degree.  The  transmitter  is 
merely  a  spring  key,  like  that  of  a  musical 
instrument,  which,  on  being  pressed  down, 
makes  contact  Avith  the  voltaic  battery, 
and  sends  an  electric  current  to  the  receiv- 
ing station.  The  operator  at  the  trans- 
mitting station,  by  thus  making  contact, 
brings  into  action  an  electro-magnet  at  the 
station  he  communicates  with,  and  that  pulls 
down  a  point  fixed  to  the  soft-iron  lever 
ujwn  a  strip  of  paper  that  is  kept  mov- 
ing by  clock-work  slowly  under  it.  The 
duration  of  the  pressure  on  the  key, 
whether  instantaneous  or  prolonged  for  a 
moment,  occasions  the  difference  in  the 
lengths  of  the  lines  indented  on  the  paper. 
A  single  circuit  is  sufficient  for  the  pur- 
pose, as  well  as  A^ery  effective. 

As  the  working  of  this  telegraidi  depends 
upon  bringing  into  action  at  the  receiving 
station  an  electro-magnet  of  force  equal  to 
mechanically  indenting  paper,  and  as  the 
resistance  to  the  passage  of  electricity 
along  the  wires  diminishes  the  quantity 
transmitted  so  greatly,  that  at  long  dis- 
tances it  was  supposed  to  be  almost 
impossible  to  obtain  sufficient  power  for 
the  purpose,  if  it  acted  directly, — to  over- 
come this  difficulty,  an  auxiliary  electro- 
magnet was  emi)loyed.  The  electro- 
magnet  which   is  directly  in   connection 


GREAT  AND  MEMORAl'.LE  EVENTS. 


347 


with  the  telegraph  wire  is  a  small  one, 
surrmindod  by  about  five  hundred  yards 
or  more  of  very  iine  wire,  for  the  purpose 
of  multiplying  as  much  as  possible  the 
effect  of  the  feeble  current  that  is  trans- 
mitted. The  soft-iron  keeper,  which  is 
attracted  l>y  the  magnet,  is  also  very  light, 
so  that  it  may  be  the  more  readily  attracted. 
This  higlily  sensitive  instrument  serves  to 
make  and  break  contact  with  a  local  bat- 
tery, which  brings  into  action  a  large 
electro-magnet,  and  as  the  local  battery 
and  the  magnet  are  close  to  the  place 
where  the  work  is  to  be  done,  any  required 
force  may  be  easily  obtained. 

The  batteries  used  are  Grove's  zinc  and 
platinum,  and  two  liquids  ;  any  number  of 
these  may  be  used.     To  form  the   electric 


'^V^ 


THE  ORIGINAL  IXSTUCMEXT. 

circuit,  one  end  of  a  copper  wire  is  attached 
to  the  end  platina  plate,  and  the  other 
end  of  the  cop2")er  wire  to  the  zinc  cylinder. 
A  wire  is  not  required  to  run  round  all 
the  circuit — any  metallic  connection,  such 
as  brass  plates,  etc.,  may  form  part  of  it. 
In  the  practical  working  of  the  telegraph, 
— the  battery  with  the  key  attached,  and 
a  small  table,  being  supposed,  for  example, 
to  be  at  the  Philadelphia  station,  and  the 
telegraph  register  to  be  at  New  York, — 
a  wire  runs  from  the  platin  i  plate  up  to 
the  metallic  binding  screw  connection  on 


the  small  table,  and  the  other  wire  runs 
from  the  /.'wh;  and  is  connected  by  the  first 
wire  by  the  metallic  connection  of  the 
register  at  New  York.  This  forms  the 
circuit.  The  key  is  fixed  upon  a  pivot 
axis,  to  be  gently  pressed  by  the  operator's 
fingers  on  the  top  of  an  ivory  biitton. 
The  circuit  is  now  broken,  and  a  small  gap 
in  the  key  above  the  wire  from  the  battery 
shows  the  metallic  connection  to  be  open. 
By  pressing  upon  the  butt  end  of  the  key, 
its  metal  surface  comes  in  contact  with  the 
metal  termination  of  the  wire  from  the 
battery,  and  then  the  circuit  is  closed,  and 
the  electric  fluid  fleets  along  to  the  distant 
station. 

In  connection  with  the  register,  there 
is,  as  has  already  been  stated,  a  strip  or 
ribbon  of  paper  passing  from  the  roll 
between  two  small  metal  rollers  of  the 
register.  This  strip  is  drawn  through 
between  the  rollers  by  their  motion,  they 
revolving  towards  the  paper  roll,  drawing 
in  the  paper, — motion  being  given  to  these  ' 
rollers  by  a  train  of  clock-work  gear  wheelS; 
moved  by  the  weight  below  the  machine. 
The  upper  small  roll  has  a  small  groove  run- 
ning around  its  periphery,  and  the  ribbon 
of  paper  is  drawn  through  against  its 
under  surface.  The  instrument  for  in- 
denting the  paper  is  suspended  on  a 
pivot  axis  at  its  middle,  and  its  action  is 
like  a  walking-beam,  though  the  stroke 
made  is  very  short.  This  pen-lever  is 
very  nicely  poised,  and  at  its  extreme  end 
from  the  paper  its  stroke  is  neatly  regu- 
lated b}^  a  set  or  button  screw.  The  metal 
pen  is  attached  to  the  lever  and  fixed  on  a 
pivot  like  a  walking-beam.  When  one 
end  is  drawn  down,  the  other  end  flies  up, 
and,  having  a  steel  point  on  it,  it  marks 
the  strip  of  paper,  already  described  as 
running  along  a  roller,  and  which  is  drawn 
along  between  other  two  rollers.  Then, 
by  letting  the  other  end  of  this  pen 
come  up,  the  steel  point  drops,  and 
then  it  is  thrown  up  again,  leaving  a  space 
between  the  two  marks  on  the  paper.  As, 
thei-efore,  the  paper  is  always  moving  and, 
as  the  point  is  held  to  it  for  a  longer  or 
shorter  time,  marks  are   made — as  before 


348 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


explained — of  dots,  spaces  and  dashes,  and 
by  a  combination  of  these  tlie  whole 
alphabet  is  formed,  the  letters  made  into 
words,  and  the  words  into  sentences.  The 
electro-magnet  is  fitted  with  an  armature, 
whose  attraction  and  withdrawal  gives 
motion  to  the  lever.  Instead  of  reading 
off  from  the  strip  of  paper,  operators  in 
time  trusted  to  sound. 

But,  though  Professor  Morse  exhibited 
the  model  of  his  recording  apparatus  in 
1835  and  1836,  it  was  not  until  after  some 
years'  additional  toil  that  he  brought  it  to 
the  above-described  efficiency  and  its  sub- 
sequent imjDrovement  and  perfection.  He 
made  no  efforts  to  bring  the  matter 
definitely  before  the  public  until  the 
autumn  of  1837,  when,  in  its  advanced 
state  of  completion,  he  exhibited  to  an 
appreciating  and  wonder-struck  auditory, 
its  marvelous  operation.  The  announce- 
ment of  the  invention  and  its  astonishing 
capacity,  was  for  a  long  time  the  mo^t 
prominent  theme  of  public  and  private 
discussion,  admiration  being  largely  min- 
gled with  blank  incredulity,  and  not  a  little 
ridicule.  Even  in  congress,  on  the  appli- 
cation of  Professor  Morse  for  government 
aid,  to  enable  him  to  demonstrate  the  value 
of  his  invention  by  constructing  a  line 
between  Washington  and  Baltimore,  in 
1838,  there  were  not  found  wanting  learned 
legislators  who  treated  the  idea  as  a  mere 
chimera.  It  was  the  same  congress  of 
which  Espy,  the  "  Storm  King,"  was 
asking  assistance,  to  test  his  favorite 
theory,  then  so  prominently  discussed. 

Both  Morse  and  Esp}',  says  a  writer  of 
that  time  and  the  event,  became  the  butt 
of  ridicule,  the  target  of  merciless 
arrows  of  wit.  They  were  voted  down- 
right bores,  and  the  idea  of  giving  them 
money  was  pronounced  farcical.  They 
were  considered  monomaniacs,  and  as  such 
were  laughed  at,  punned  upon,  and  made 
the  standing  staple  for  jokes.  One  morn- 
ing, however,  a  gentleman  rose  from  his 
seat  in  the  house — quite  to  the  astonish- 
ment of  everybody,  for  he  had  never  been 
known  to  speak  before,  unless  it  was  to 
vote  or  to  address  the  speaker, — and  said, 


"I  hold  in  my  hand  a  resolution,  which  I 
respectfully  offer  for  the  consideration  of 
the  house."  In  a  moment  a  page  was  at 
his  desk,  and  the  resolution  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  speaker  and  by  him  delivered 
to  the  clerk,  who  read  as  follows  : 
"  Resolved,  That  the  committee  of  ways 
and  means  be  instructed  to  inquire  into 
the  expediency  of  appropriating  $30,000, 
to  enable  Professor  Morse  to  establish  a 
line  of  telegraph  between  "Washington  and 
Baltimore."  The  gentleman  who  offered 
it  was  Mr.  Ferris,  one  of  the  New  York 
representatives,  a  man  of  wealth  and 
learning,  but  modest,  retiring,  and  diffi- 
dent. 

This  being  merely  a  resolution  of 
inquiry,  it  passed  without  opposition,  and, 
out  of  regard  to  the  mover,  without  com- 
ment. In  time,  it  came  before  the  com- 
mittee, all  the  members  of  which  had,  by 
their  public  services  and  brilliant  talents, 
acquired  a  national  reputation.  The  clerk 
of  the  committee  read  the  resolution. 
The  chairman,  Mr.  Fillmore,  in  a  clear, 
distinct  voice,  said,  "  Gentlemen,  what 
disposition  shall  be  made  of  it  ?  "  There 
was  a  dead  pause  around  the  table.  No 
one  seemed  inclined  to  take  the  initiative. 
It  was  expected  that,  inasmuch  as  the 
mover  of  the  resolution  in  the  house  was  a 
democrat,  the  democratic  side  of  the  com- 
mittee would  stand  god-father  to  it  there. 
But  not  a  bit  of  it.  They  felt  that  the 
whole  thing  was  preposterous  and  deserv- 
ing of  no  countenance.  At  length,  one  on 
the  other  side  broke  the  ominous  silence 
by  moving  that  the  comniittee  instruct 
the  chairman  to  report  a  bill  to  the  house, 
appropriating  thirty  thousand  dollars  for 
the  purpose  named  in  the  resolution. 

This  movement  "brought  them  all  up 
standing!"  No  speeches  were  made. 
The  question  was  called  for.  The  yeas 
and  nays  were  taken  alphabetically,  and, 
as  four  had  voted  on  the  affirmative  side, 
and  four  on  the  negative,  it  fell  to  the  lot 
of  Governor  Wallace,  of  Indiana,  whose 
name  came  last  on  the  list,  to  decide  the 
question.  He,  however,  had  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  the  matter,  and,  like  the  majority  of 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


349 


people,  considered  it  a  great  humbug.  He 
had  not  the  faintest  idea  of  the  importance 
to  liis  country,  of  tlie  vote  he  was  to  cast. 
IJut  as  fortune  would  have  it,  the  tliought 
came  to  mind  that  Mr.  Morse  was  even 
then  experimenting  in  tlie  capitol  with  the 
"  new-fangled  invention,"  having  stretched 
a  wire  from  tlie  basement  story  to  the 
ante-room  of  the  senate  cliamber.  It  was 
therefore  in  Governor  Wallace's  power  to 
satisfy  himself  at  once  in  regard  to  the 
question  of  feasibility',  and  he  determined 
to  try  it.  He  asked  leave  to  consider  his 
vote.  This  was  granted.  He  imme- 
diately stepped  out  of  the  committee  room, 
and  went  to  the  ante-chamber,  which  was 
found  crowded  with  representatives  and 
strangers.  Governor  Wallace  requested 
permission  to  put  a  question  to  the  ''  mad- 
man "  (Morse)  at  the  other  end  of  the 
wire.     It  was  granted    immediately.     He 


n^y^  UyJ^'/^7^^r7:^:Jl^ 


C -^ 

wrote  the  question  and  handed  it  to  the 
telegrapher.  The  crowd  cried  "  read ! 
read!  "  In  a  very  short  time  the  answer 
was  received.  When  written  out  by  the 
operator,  -the  same  cry  of  "  read  it  !  read 
it  !  "  went  up  from  the  crowd. 

To    his    utter    astonishment,    Governor 
Wallace  found  that  the  madman  at  that  end 


of  the  wire  had  more  wit  and  force  than  the 
congressmen  at  the  other — the  laugh  was 
turned  completely  upon  the  committee-man. 
But,  as  western  men  are  rarely  satisfied 
with  one  fall — not  less  than  two  failures 
out  of  three  attempts  forcing  from  tliem 
any  acknowledgment  of  defeat,  —  the 
governor  put  a  second  question,  and  there 
came  a  second  answer.  If  the  first  raised 
a  laugh  at  his  expense,  the  second  convert- 
ed that  laugh  into  a  roar  and  a  shout. 
He  was  more  than  satisfied.  Picking  up 
his  hat,  he  bowed  himself  out  of  the 
crowd,  the  good-natured  shout  following 
him  as  he  passed  along  the  passages  and 
halls  of  the  capitol. 

As  a  matter  of  course.  Governor  Wallace 
voted  in  the  affirmative  of  the  motion  then 
pending    before    the    committee,    and    it 
prevailed.     The    chairman    reported    the 
bill,  the  house  and  senate  concurred  in  its 
passage,  and  thus  was  Professor  Morse 
successful   in    this  his  last  struggle  to 
demonstrate  the    practicability   of — as 
it   has  proved — tlie  most   amazing  in- 
vention   of    the   age,    the    electro-mag- 
netic telegraph.     If  the  committee  had 
ignored    the    proposition,    there    is    no 
telling  what  would  have  been  the  result. 
That  the  experiment  would  have  been 
finally   made,  no   one   can  entertain   a 
doubt.     But  when  or  by  whom  is  the 
question.     It  was  not  within  the  range 
of  ordinary  individual  fortune  to  make 
it,  and,   if  it  was,  none  but  Professor 
Morse  would  have  hazarded  it. 

It  appears,  however,  that  Professor 
Morse  came  to  the  last  stage  of  discour- 
agement, in  the  prosecution  of  his  appeal 
to  congress,  before  light  finally  broke 
in  upon  him.     On  the  very  last  day  of 
the    session,    the    bill    relating    to    his 
case  was  the  one  hundred  and  twenti- 
eth on  the  senate  docket,  to  be  acted  upon 
in    course.       Concerning    this    scene,    a 
writer  in    Harper's  Monthly   states,  that 
during  the   entire    day   Professor    Morse 
watched  the  course  of  legislation  from  the 
gallery  with  nervous  trepidation  and  the 
deepest   anxiety.       At    length,    worn    out 
by  the   interminable  discussion   of   some 


3-30 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


senator  who  seemed  to  be  speaking 
against  time,  and  overcome  by  his 
I)ro]onged  watching,  he  left  the  gallen^  at 
a  late  hour  and  went  to  his  lodgings, 
under  the  belief  that  it  was  not  possible 
his  bill  could  be  reached,  and  that  he  must 
again  turn  his  attention  to  those  labors  of 
the  brush  and  easel  by  means  of  which  he 
might  be  enabled  to  prosecute  ajJpeals  to 
congress  at  a  future  time.  He  accordingly 
made  his  preparations  to  return  to  Xew 
York  on  the  following  morning,  and 
retii'ing  to  rest,  sank  into  a  profound 
slumber,  from  which  he  did  not  awake 
until  a  late  hour  on  the  following  morn- 
ing. But  a  short  time  after,  while  seated 
at  the  breakfast-table,  the  servant  an- 
nounced that  a  lady  desired  to  see  him. 
Upon  entering  the  parlor,  he  found  Miss 
Annie  Ellsworth,  the  daughter  of  the 
Commissioner  of  Patents,  whose  face  Avas 
all  aglow  with  pleasure. 

*' 7  Juive  come  to  congratulate  you,''^  she 
remarked,  as  he  entered  the  room,  and 
aj)proached  to  shake  hands  with  her. 

"  To  congratulate  me  !  "  replied  Mr. 
Morse,  "■  and  for  what  ?  " 

"  Why,  upon  the  passage  of  your  hill, 
to  he  sure,"  she  replied. 

''  You  must  surely  be  mistaken  ;  for  I 
left  at  a  late  hour,  and  its  fate  seemed 
inevitable." 

"Indeed  I  am  not  mistaken,"  she  re- 
joined; "father  remained  until  the  close 
of  the  session,  and  your  bill  was  the  ver>' 
last  that  was  acted  on,  and  I  beawd 
permission  to  convey  to  ^-ou  the  news. 
I  am  so  happy  that  I  am  the  first  to  tell 
you." 

The  feelings  of  Professor  Morse  may  be 
better  imagined  than  described.  He 
grasped  his  young  companion  warmly  by 
the  hand,  and  thanked  her  over  and  over 
again  for  the  joyful  intelligence,  saying — 

"As  a  reward  for  being  the  first  bearer 
of  this  news,  you  shall  send  over  the  tele- 
graph the  first  message  it  conveys." 

"  I  will  hold  you  to  that  promise," 
rejilied  she  ;   "  lietnemher  !  " 

'•'•  Rememhcr !  ^^  responded  Professor 
Morse  ;  and  they  parted. 


The  plans  of  Mr.  Morse  were  now  alto- 
gether changed.  His  journey  homeward 
was  abandoned,  and  he  set  to  work  to  carry 
out  the  project  of  establishing  the  line  of 
electro-telegraph,  between  Washington  and 
Baltimore,  authorized  by  the  bill.  His 
first  idea  was  to  conve^^  the  wires,  inclosed 
in  a  leaden  tube,  beneath  the  ground.  H  e 
had  already  arranged  a  plan  by  which  the 
wires,  insulated  by  a  covering  of  cotton 
saturated  in  gum  shellac,  were  to  be 
inserted  into  leaden  pipes  in  the  process 
of  casting.  But  after  the  expenditure  of 
several  thousand  dollars,  and  much  delav 
this  plan  was  given  up,  and  the  one  now 
in  use,  of  extending  them  on  poles, 
adopted. 

By  the  month  of  May,  1844,  the  whole 
line  was  laid,  and  magnets  and  recording 
instruments  were  attached  to  the  ends  of 
the  wires  at  Mount  Clare  Depot,  Balti- 
more, and  at  the  supreme  court  chamber, 
in  the  capitol  at  Washington.  When  the 
circuit  was  complete,  and  the  signal  at  the 
one  end  of  the  line  was  responded  to  l\v 
the  operator  at  the  other,  Mr.  Morse  sent 
a  messenger  to  Miss  Ellsworth  to  inform 
her  that  the  telegrajih  awaited  her  mes- 
sage. She  speedily  responded  to  this,  and 
sent  for  transmission  the  following,  which 
was  the  first  formal  dispatch  ever  sent 
through  a  telegra})hic  wire  connecting 
remote  places  with  each  other : 

"What  hath  God  wriOucuT!  " 

The  original  of  the  message  is  now  in 
the  archives  of  the  Historical  Society'  at 
Hartford  Connecticut.  The  practicability 
and  utility  of  the  invention  were  now 
clearly  and  firmly  established. 

Of  the  subsequent  history  and  triumphs 
of  this  invention,  it  is  scarcely  necessary 
here  to  speak.  The  lines  of  telegraphic 
communi(;ation  which  now,  like  a  web, 
traverse  the  length  and  breadth  of  the 
republic,  and  which,  indeed,  connect  and 
cover  as  with  a  ni't-work  the  four  conti- 
nents of  the  globe, — these  attest  the  vast- 
ness,  influence  and  power,  of  this  amazing 
invention.  Nor  is  it  necessary  to  specify 
the  details  of  those  various  mechanieal 
improvements    in   the    construction    and 


GEEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


351 


working  of  the  apparatus,  as  also  its  diver- 
si  lied  adaptation,  brouglit  l\)r\vard  by  the 
fertile  genius  of  Morse,  as  well  as  by 
House,  Hughes,  Phelps,  Shaffner,  O'Reilly, 
Vail,  Faruier,  I'age,  Hicks,  Ritehie,  ete., 
andwliirh  liave  secured  tutlie  whole  s^'steni 
of  telegraphy  its  present  wonderful  degree 
of  scientific  perfection,  bringing  to  the 
discoverer  fame  and  pecuniary  fortune  at 
home,  and  also  the  most  splendid  medals, 
decorations  of  honor,  and  "  golden  gifts," 
from  nearly  all  the  crowned  heads  of 
Europe.  It  is  an  interesting  fact,  that  the 
first  kingly  acknowledgment  received  by 
Professor  INEorse,  was  the  "Order  of 
Glory"  from  the  Sultan  of  Turkey.  The 
rulers  of  Prussia,  AVurtemberg,  and  Avis- 
tria,  sent  him  superb  gold  medals ;  the 
emperor  of  the  Frencli  made  him  a  Cheva- 
lier of  the  Legion  of  Honor,  instituted  by 
Napoleon  the  First;  while  Denmark  made 
him  one  of  the  knightly  "  Dannebrog," 
and  Spain  a  Kniglit  Commander  of  the 
Order  of  Isabella  the  Catholic. 


powerful  an  enemy  Abd-el-Kader  proved 
himself  to  the  French,  during  the  career 
of  conquest  undertaken  by  the  latter  in 
Algeria.  On  a  certain  occasion,  during 
that  terrific  struggle,  the  French  telegraph 
made  the  announcement :   ''  Ahd-d-Kader 

/tas  been   taken ;"  a  fog,   however, 

envelo})ed  the  remainder  of  the  sentence 
in  obscurity.  The  excitement,  neverthe- 
less, in  the  money  market,  was  at  fever 
height,  at  the  su[)pose(l  cai)ture  of  that 
adroit  enem^^,  and  the  funds  rose  tremen- 
dously. The  following  day,  the  sentence 
being  completed,  the  intelligence  ran  thus  : 
"  Abd-el-Kader  has  been  taken  wltlt  a 
dreailfal  eold  in  his  Iteady  The  funds 
fell,  but  the  coup — which  was  worthy  of  a 
Rothschild's  subtlety  —  had  been  suffi- 
ciently successful  for  those  who  managed 
to  make  the  telegraph  play  into  the  hands 
of  their  financial  agents. 

A  case  of  a  somewhat  different  character 
-one  involving  the    "tender  passion" 


was  the  following. 


A  daughter  of  one  of 


ORDERS  OF  GLORY  CONFERRED  ON  PROFESSOR  MORSE. 


An  example  or  two  of  the  humorous 
side  of  the  telegraph  may  here  be  given, 
as  a  kind  of  side-relief  to  a  subject 
liable  to  be  regarded  as  somewhat  exclu- 
sively involving  abstract  philosophical 
science  and  the  technical  minutiae  of  its 
application. 

Probably    no    one   is    ignorant    of   how 


the  wealthiest  merchants  in  Boston,  Mass., 
had  formed  an  attachment  for  a  handsome 
3'oung  man,  who  was  a  clerk  in  her  father's 
counting-house.  The  father  having  heard 
of  the  attachment,  feigned  ignorance  of  it, 
with  a  view  of  enabling  him  more  success- 
fully to  adopt  measures  that  would  break 
it  off.     For  this  purpose  he  directed  the 


352 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


young  man  to  proceed  to  England,  upon 
business ;  and  tlie  lover  accordingly  ar- 
rived, on  his  route;,  in  New  York.  In  the 
meantime,  the  enamored  young  lady  had 
got  an  inkling  of  her  fathei-'s  intentions, 
and  wishing  to  frustrate  them  effect uallij, 
sent  a  message  to  that  effect  to  her  lover 
in  New  York,  hy  the  following  expedient: 
She  took  lier  place  in  the  telegraph  office 
in  Boston,  and  he  did  the  same  with  a 
magistrate,  in  the  New  York  office;  and 
now,  the  exchange  of  consent  being  duly 
given  by  the  electric  flash,  theij  were  mar- 
ried hi/  telegraph !  Shortly  after,  the 
lady's  father  insisted  upon  her  marriage 
with  the  gentleman  he  had  selected  for 
her;  and  judge  of  his  amazement  when 
she  told  him  that  she  was  alreadij  married 
— the  wife  of  Mr.  B.,  then  on  his  way  to 
England ;  adding  an  explanation  of  the 
novel  way  in  which  the  ceremony  was  per- 
formed. And  so  the  matter  ended  ;  adding 
another  to  the  triumphs  of  love  and — 
electricity ! 

During  the  revolutionary  excitement  in 
Europe,  in  1848,  the  astounding  report 
flashed  across  Europe,  that  the  king  of 
Prussia  had  abdicated !  The  statement 
originated  with  the  electric  telegraph, 
which  sent  the  following  dispatch:  "The 
— King  of — Prussia — has — gone  to  Pot — ." 
In  another  minute,  the  communication  in 
this  form  was  on  its  way  to  the  news- 
paper bulletins,  and  was  immediately  tele- 
graphed thence  in  every  direction.  Not 
long  after,  however,  the  dial  was  again 
agitated,  and  then  ",s — dain^'  was  added; 
making    the    very  quiet    piece    of    news, 


"  The  King  of  Prussia  has  gone  to  Pots- 
dam." 

In  the  early  days  of  telegraphing,  the 
competition  for  priority  among  the  lead- 
ing journals  was  very  great,  and  feats  were 
performed  which,  for  that  day  of  the  art's 
infancy,  were  indeed  marvelous.  One 
instance  will  siiffice : 

An  important  speech  by  Mr.  Clay  was 
much  looked  for.  It  was  delivered  in 
Lexington,  Ky.,  on  a  Saturday,  and  the 
proprietor  of  the  New  York  Herald  deter- 
mined on  beating  his  contemporaries. 
Express  riders  were  ready,  and  in  less 
than  five  hours  a  full  report  of  the  speech 
was  in  Cincinnati.  Notifications  had  been 
sent  along  the  line  of  telegraph  to  "look 
out;"  and  at  four  o'clock  on  Sunday 
morning,  the  publisher  of  the  Herald  had 
the  speech  before  him  in  New  York — the 
distance  being  more  than  eleven  hundred 
miles.  This  was  done  during  a  heavy  rain, 
and  while  a  thunder  shower  was  j^assing 
over  a  jiortion  of  both  the  eastern  and 
western  lines.  At  Cincinnati,  where  it 
was  to  be  copied  in  passing,  the  telegraph 
suddenly  ceased  working,  to  the  dismay  of 
the  superintendent.  Being  short  of  proper 
liands,  he  mounted  a  horse,  and  followed 
the  line,  through  the  pelting  storm,  until 
he  found  a  break,  caused  by  the  falling  of 
a  tree,  beyond  Turtle  Creek,  a  distance  of 
twentj'-one  miles.  He  finished  mending 
the  break  at  dark,  and  then  returned  to 
the  city,  where,  in  the  temporary  absence 
of  other  competent  operators,  received  the 
sijeech  and  sent  it  to  New  York,  finishing 
it  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning. 


XXXIX. 

TREMENDOUS   FIRE   IN   NEW  YORK  CITY.— 1835. 


Its  Destructiveness  Unparalleled,  up  to  this  Period,  in  the  Western  World. — Resistless  Devastation  for 
Sixteen  Hours  in  Midwinter. — A  Pall  of  Ruin  and  Desolation  Over  the  Richest  Business  Locality 
in  America. — Nearly  Seven  Hundred  Warehouses,  Filled  with  Costly  Merchandise,  and  the  Com- 
merce of  Every  Clime,  Laid  in  Ashes. — Loss  Upwards  of  Eighteen  Millions. — Peculiar  Seat  of  this 
Fire. — The  Money  Center  of  America. — Breaking  Out  in  the  Evening. — Fury  of  the  North  Wind  — 
The  Flames  Spread  Violently. — Bitter  and  Intense  Cold. — Freezing  of  the  Engine- Water. — All  the 
Elements  Hostile. — Human  Endeavors  Powerless. — Acres  on  Fire  at  Midnight. — Sweeps  from  Point 
to  Point. — Mingled  Horror  and  Sublimity. — Efforts  to  Save  the  Exchange. — Fate  of  that  Splendid 
Pile. — Fall  of  its  Magnificent  Dome. — Numberless  Reverses  of  Fortune. — Rich  Men  Made  Penni- 
less.— A  Singular  Exception.— Swarms  of  Bold  Robbers. — Military  Protection  Required. — Discovery 
of  a  Diabolical  Crime. — Supposed  Cause  of  the  Fire. 


"  Only  the  horrors  of  the  great  fire  of  London  in  1666,  and  of  Moscow  in  1812,  can  be  said  to  rival  those  of  the  night  of  December  16, 
1835,  in  the  commercial  metropolis  of  America."— UiSTORY  of  New  Yokk. 


|ODER]Sr  history  affords  but  few  instances  of  more  awful  desolation  by- 
fire,  than  that  which  so  suddenly  visited  the  city  of  New  York,  on  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  of  December,  1835.  Indeed,  there  are  not 
many  examples  of  any  calamities  affecting  property  and  business 
interests,  showing  greater  destruction  or  involving  consequences 
more  distressing.  The  consuming  of  nearly  seven  hundred  spacious  storehouses  of 
the  first  class,  filled  with  the  most  valuable  goods  of  all  kinds  and  from  all  countries, 
covering  about  twenty  acres  of  land,  and  giving  employment  in  various  connections 
to  several  thousand  persons,  was  an  unprecedented  event,  in  the  roll  of  national 
disasters.  It  was  not,  however,  upon  the  individuals  directly  employed,  nor  upon  the 
owners  or  occupants  of  the  buildings  consumed,  nor  even  upon  the  merchants,  that 
the  chief  burden  of  this  appalling  calamity  fell ;  but  it  was  the  thousands  of  widows 
and  orphans  who  were  dependent  upon  the  dividends  of  their  little  stock  in  the  insur- 
ance companies  for  their  daily  bread,  who  were  most  afflicted  by  this  unpitying  devas- 
tation ;  and  next  to  them,  the  artisan  and  manufacturer,  in  almost  every  district  of  the 
United  States,  however  remote,  was  irretrievably  involved.  Indeed,  every  species  of 
business  and  every  ramification  of  trade,  throughout  the  Union,  was  seriously  affected. 
It  was  the  fountain-head  that  had  been  so  dreadfully  ravaged,  and  the  whole  nation  felt 
the  shock.  Other  fires  there  have  been,  most  disastrous  in  their  extent, — at  Savannah, 
San  Erancisco,  Sacramento,  Pittsburg,  Portland,  Albany,  St.  Louis,  Charleston,  etc., 
— but  this  is  conceded  to  have  been,  up  to  that  time,  the  most  fearfully  memorable,  of 
the  century,  and,  therefore,  appropriately  narrated  in  this  volume.  For  terrible 
23 


354 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


destruction  of  life,  also,  numbering  some 
seventy  victims,  including  Hon.  George 
W.  Smith,  governor  of  the  state,  the 
burning  of  the  theater  in  Richmond,  Va,, 
December  24,  1811,  will  forever  be  remem- 
bered. 

At  nine  o'clock,  on  the  night  of  Wednes- 
day, December  sixteenth,  smoke  and  flames 
were  seen  to  issue  from  a  five-story  build- 
ing in  Merchant  street,  formerly  Hanover 
street,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Merchants' 
Exchange,  and  in  precisely  that  locality 
of  the  metropolis  which  was  crowded  with 
the  most  costly  treasures  of  foreign  and 
domestic  production.  The  weather  had 
been  unusually  severe  for  several  days  ; 
but  on  the  night  in  question,  the  cold  had 
increased  to  an  intensity  almost  without 
precedent,  the  thermometer  standing  be- 
low zero,  with  fierce  north  winds,  amount- 
ing nearly  to  a  gale.  It  was  an  awful 
night  for  New  York  and  the  country. 

The  flames  soon  leaped  forth  in  fury 
through  every  aperture,  and  seized  on 
the  adjoining  buildings  for  their  im- 
mediate prey,  and,  spreading  from  this 
point,  the  raging  element  in  a  short  time 
obtained  a  tremendous  advantage  in  the 
most  compactly  and  loftily  built  portion 
of  the  city,  filled  with  silks,  cloths,  liquors, 
oils,  chemicals,  and  other  combustibles, 
and  intersected  only  by  narrow  streets 
which  could  interpose  no  barrier  to  the 
progress  of  the  flames. 

Owing  to  the  unparalleled  severity  of 
the  weather,  and  to  the  fact  that  there  had 
been  so  many  alarms  within  the  week, 
requiring  so  large  an  amount  of  harassing 
service  of  the  fire  department,  the  latter 
did  not  rally  with  its  accustomed  alacrity. 
It  was  soon  found,  too,  that  the  effort  put 
forth  to  check  the  power  of  the  conflagra- 
tion in  that  quarter  to  which  the  wind  was 
so  vehemently  urging  it,  was  utterly  una- 
vailing. The  water  so  plenteously  thrown 
upon  it  by  hydrants  and  engines,  was 
blown  back  in  the  faces,  and  fell  con- 
gealed at  the  feet  of  the  brave  firemen,  or 
seemed  only  to  add  to  the  fury  and  force 
of  the  destroyer,  which  rapidly  embraced 
the  great  range  of  houses  on  the  opposite 


side,  until  the  whole  triangular  block, 
formed  by  Wall,  William,  and  Pearl 
streets,  became  one  lofty  altar  of  waving 
fires.  From  this  point,  taking  the  direc- 
tion of  Wall  street  below  Pearl,  on  the 
one  hand,  and  Pearl  street  below  Wall, 
on  the  other,  the  flames  rolled  on,  mocking 
all  human  endeavors  to  restrain  them. 

Advancing  thus  in  two  grand  divisions, 
the  conflagration,  as  contrasted  with  the 
red  masses  of  buildings  which  they  alter- 
nately illuminated  with  glaring  brightness 
and  wrapped  in  huge  volumes  of  smoke, 
conveyed  to  the  beholder  the  idea  of  some 
fabulous  monster  of  destruction,  Avaving 
its  wings  over  its  helpless  and  devoted 
prey. 

The  extraordinary  strength  of  the  Wall 
street  buildings — many  of  them  resisting 
firmly  the  assaults  of  the  destroyer,  and 
none  of  the  walls  crumbling  and  falling 
into  the  street,  as  is  so  generally  the  case 
— did  more  for  the  security  of  those  north 
of  the  street,  than  anything  within  the 
power  of  human  effort.  Onward,  how- 
ever, still  onward,  continued  the  resistless 
sweep  of  destruction,  involving  some  of 
the  most  massive  blocks  of  warehouses  in 
the  world,  crammed  with  the  costliest  of 
goods  from  every  section  and  clime. 

After  consuming  the  Phoenix  buildings 
on  Wall  street,  the  fire  pursued  its 
way  to  Water  street.  Front  street,  and 
at  length,  as  the  morning  dawned, 
to  South  street,  adjoining  the  East 
river.  But  j^rogressing  at  the  same 
time,  through  Pearl  street,  on  both  sides, 
towards  Hanover  square,  it  crossed  and 
speedily  devoured  Governeur  lane,  Jones's 
lane,  and  the  whole  of  Eront  and  Water 
streets  that  lay  between  Wall  street  and 
Franklin  market.  In  the  meantime,  it 
was  furiously  extending  through  Exchange 
street  and  Exchange  place  to  William 
street,  and  to  all  the  buildings  in  the  rear 
of  the  Merchants'  Exchange. 

This  magnificent  and  beautiful  edifice, 
which,  for  the  elegant  grandeur  of  its  ar- 
chitecture, was  the  pride  not  only  of 
New  York  but  of  the  whole  country,  it 
was  hoped  would  continue  to  rear  its  dome 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


355 


VIEW  OF  WALL  STREET   DURING   THE   FIRE. 


in  the  sky,  though  all  around  it  should 
become  a  scene  of  desolation — for,  there 
being  no  flames  between  it  and  the  course 
of  the  wind,  it  seemed  fortunately  secure 
from  any  imminent  danger.  And  so  much 
conlidence  was  reposed  in  this  presumption, 
that  the  building  was  selected  as  the  grand 
depot  for  the  most  precious  kinds  of  mer- 
chandise that  could  be  rescued  from  the 
adjacent  streets,  and  with  which  its  great 
hall  was  completely  piled.  Every  pre- 
caution, too,  was  taken  to  preserve  it,  by 
conveying  hose  to  its  roof,  and  by  spread- 
ing wet  blankets  along  those  parts  of  the 
windows  and  cornices  most  exposed  to  the 
heat.  But  all  proved  vain !  At  about  one 
o'clock  in  the  morning  the  splendid  edifice 
took  fire,  and  although  the  flames  prej^ed 
upon  it  but  slowly  for  some  time,  they  at 
length  burst  forth  from  its  roof  and  dome, 
and  weaved  a  pall  of  ruin  over  its  vast  and 
beautiful  form.  For  full  half  an  hour,  the 
flames  arose  in  pyramidal  columns,  from 
its  dome,  up  to  an  immense  height  in  the 
troubled  sky,  and  rendered  it  a  most  sub- 
lime though  fearful  object.      But  before 


the  unhappy  persons  who  had  made  it  a 
refuge  for  their  property  from  the  terrible 
enemy  that  was  abroad,  could  again  rescue 
scared}'  an  article,  the  dome  fell  in  with  a 
portentous  crash,  burying  beneath  its 
ruined  ai'ches  the  new  and  beautiful  statue 
of  the  illustrious  Hamilton.  A  gallant  <  Ifort 
was  made  to  save  this  statue,  by  a  young 
officer  from  the  navy  yard,  with  a  party  of 
four  or  five  sailors ;  they  had  actually 
succeeded  in  removing  it  from  the  pedestal, 
when  the  danger  from  the  approacliing 
fall  of  the  roof, — watched  with  breatliless 
anxiety  by  the  terror-stricken  multitude — 
compelled  them  to  seek  safety  in  flight. 

At  this  time,  the  fire  on  Pearl  street  had 
reached  Hanover  square,  which  large  space 
of  ground  was  covered  wath  goods.  A 
desperate  struggle  was  made  to  save  them, 
but  so  rapidly  did  the  fire  spread  on  both 
sides  of  the  square,  that,  in  a  short  time, 
everything  was  reduced  to  cinders.  Of 
the  South  Dutch  church,  which  had  also 
been  stored  with  valuables,  nothing  was 
left  but  the  bare  walls.  The  post-oflice 
shared  the  same  desolation. 


356 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


To  check  the  augmenting  avalanche  of 
fire,  when  water  could  not  be  thrown  upon 
it  or  seemed  of  no  avail  if  it  was,  gun- 
powder was  at  last  resorted  to;  but  none, 
in  sufficient  quantities  was  to  be  procured 
in  the  city,  it  not  being  allowed  as  an 
article  of  merchandise.  An  application  at 
tlie  fort  on  Governor's  Island  was  unsuc- 
cessful ;  but  a  supply  was  ultimately  pro- 
cured, after  daylight,  from  the  Brooklj^n 
navy  yard,  with  a  corps  of  marines,  and 
the  demolition  of  some  prominent  build- 
ings by  this  means,  contributed  materially 
to  the  subjugation  of  the  flames,  which 
was  finally  effected  at  Coenties  slip,  about 
noon  of  Thursday,  after  an  awful  and 
uninterrupted  devastation  of  sixteen  hours. 

Thus,  seventeen  of  the  most  valuable 
'  blocks '  in  the  money  and  business  part 
of  the  city  were  totally  destroyed,  and 
three  others  nearly  so.  The  total  loss,  as 
given  in  the  New  American  Cyclopoedia, 
was  more  than  eighteen  viillion  dollars  ! 
Six  hundred  and  seventy  buildings  were 
burnt,  principally  occupied  as  importing 
and  wholesale  warehouses, — the  seat,  in- 
deed, of  the  greatest  monetary  and  com- 
mercial transactions  on  the  American  con- 
tinent. It  is  not  likely  that  the  destruc- 
tion of  any  given  section  of  any  other  city 
in  the  world,  of  equal  extent,  would  have 
involved  a  greater  loss  of  capital,  or  ruined 
the  fortunes  of  a  larger  number  of  men. 
The  south  side  of  Wall  street  was  half 
destroyed.  William,  Pearl,  Water,  Front 
and  South  streets,  from  Wall  street  to 
Coenties  slip,  were  in  ruins.  Exchange 
place,  Hanover  street,  Merchant  street, 
and  Hanover  square,  were  entirely  de- 
stroyed ;  Stone  street,  from  Pearl  to  Broad 
street,  nearly  so.  Some  of  the  buildings 
on  Broad  street  suffered ;  but  throughout 
the  night  this  noble  avenue  was  univer- 
sally regarded  as  the  only  efficient  barrier 
against  the  entire  destruction  of  the  first 
ward,  involving  results  almost  incalculable, 
to  property  of  every  description. 

Before  the  gunpowder  was  used  in  blow- 
ing up  the  buildings,  there  were  constantly 
heard  loud  reports  caused  by  explosions 
of  casks  of  spirits,  chemicals,   and  other 


substances.  During  the  entire  night,  the 
scene  was  one  of  awful  terror  and  inde- 
scribable grandeur.  The  drought  of  the 
season  had  contributed  to  the  combusti- 
bility of  the  materials,  and  the  rapidity 
with  which  house  after  house,  range  after 
range  of  buildings,  was  Avrapped  in  flames, 
was  frightful  to  the  beholder.  The  gale 
being  strong,  large  flakes  of  fire  were 
borne  whirling  aloft,  through  the  dark 
vault  of  heaven,  with  fearful  splendor. 

Among  the  noticeable  matters  of  curi- 
osity, observed  during  the  progress  of  the 
conflagration,  was  the  resistance  offered 
so  long  and  staunchly  to  the  flames,  by 
the  South  Dutch  church.  Rev.  Dr.  Mat- 
thews's,  but  which  finally  yielded  to  the 
all-conquering  foe.  The  bright  gold  ball 
and  star  surmounting  the  structure  — 
crowning  the  highest  point  of  the  sjjire — 
gleamed  brilliantly  ;  and  thus,  while  the 
two  were  shining,  in  the  deep  blue  con- 
cave, with  an  intensity  of  brightness 
which  attracted  general  remark,  they  sud- 
denly gave  one  surge,  and  fell,  in  all  their 
glory,  into  the  chaotic  heap  beneath. 
Similar  was  the  fate  of  the  Hamilton 
statue,  which,  towering  brightly  amidst 
the  sea  of  flames  that  dashed  against  its. 
crackling  base,  cast  a  mournful  glance  on 
the  terrific  scene,  and  then  fell  with  stately 
motion,  perishing  under  the  crush  of  the 
edifice  of  which  it  had  been,  as  it  were, 
the  tutelary  genius.  A  fine  old  syca- 
more, near  the  corner  of  Beaver  and  Wil- 
liam streets,  on  the  premises  formerly 
occupied  by  Cadwallader  D.  Colden,  vig- 
orously resisted  the  foe,  standing  un- 
harmed amid  the  ruins. 

At  the  head  of  one  of  the  slips,  a  novel 
spectacle  occurred.  A  large  quantity  of 
turpentine,  piled  up  in  barrels,  caught  the 
flames  and  burnt  with  great  fury,  on  ac- 
count of  its  jieculiarly  inflammable  charac- 
ter. It  ran  down  in  a  stream,  like  burn- 
ing lava,  into  the  dock,  upon  the  surface 
of  the  water,  and,  being  lighter  than  the 
latter,  spread  out  until  it  had  covered  a 
vast  extent,  giving  the  river  the  appear- 
ance of  one  rolling  mass  of  liquid  fire, 
startling  but  beautiful  to  behold. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


357 


Peculiarly  exciting  was  the  doom  which 
overtook  Hanover  square,  where  every- 
body thought  the  goods  deposited  would 
he  perfectly  safe.  In  this  great  area, 
there  was  accumulated  from  the  stock  of 
all  the  French  stores,  a  mass  of  silks, 
satins,  laces,  dresses  in  pattern,  caj^es, 
Cashmere  shawls,  and  the  richest  kinds  of 
fancy  articles,  forming  an  enormous  pile 
sixty  feet  wide  by  twenty-five  feet  in 
height,  or  nearly  one  hundred  feet  square. 
Suddenly,  and  to  the  ajialling  consterna- 
tion of  the  anxious  throng,  a  gust  of  flame, 
like  a  streak  of  lightning,  came  from  the 
Dortli-east   corner   building,  and  shooting 


and  happy,  were  the  next  day  bankrupts, 
utterly  ruined.  Stejihen  Whitney's  loss, 
in  stores,  stock,  and  goods,  was  estimated 
at  nearly  half  a  million  dollars.  In  one 
of  the  stores  consumed,  were  eight  hun- 
dred thousand  pounds  of  lead  ;  after  the 
fire  was  over,  and  the  rubbish  removed,  it 
was  found  that  the  lead  had  melted  into 
prodigious  masses,  so  that  the  owner  had 
to  quarry  it  out. 

The  great  dry  goods  firm  of  which 
Arthur  Tappan,  the  renowned  abolition 
leader,  was  at  the  head,  escaped,  peculiarly, 
the  absolute  ruin  in  which  so  many  of  the 
other  great  firms  were   involved.     Their 


THE  GREAT  CONFLAGRATION  AS  VIEWED  FROM  COENTIES  SLIP. 


wildly  across  the  square,  blown  by  the 
strong  wind,  set  fire  to  the  entire  mass. 
No  human  effort  could  for  a  moment  suc- 
cessfully interpose,  and  in  a  few  moments 
the  whole  was  but  a  heap  of  cinders  and 
ashes. 

Some  of  the  individual  losses  were,  of 
course,  immense ;  as  an  example,  one  mer- 
chant had  in  silks  alone,  three  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  which  were  destroyed ; 
another,  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  in 
teas  and  brandies.  Many  who  went  home 
to  their  families  that  evening,  prosperous 


store  being  of  stone,  and  having  window- 
shutters  of  thick  boiler  iron — put  on  after 
the  mobs  of  the  previous  year, — withstood 
the  flames  for  nearly  an  hour,  while  all 
was  in  a  blaze  around  it,  so  that  there  was 
thus  afforded  time  to  carry  out  the  boolcs 
and  papers,  and  a  very  large  amount  of 
goods,  estimated  at  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars  in  value,  placing  them,  after  two 
removes,  beyond  the  spread  of  the  fire. 
The  energy  and  daring  with  which  the 
colored  people  pressed  forward,  in  the  face 
of  every  obstacle,  to  save    Mr.   Tappan's 


358 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


property,  greatly  impressed  the  bystanders. 
It  was  with  difficulty  they  were  restrained 
from  rushing  in,  after  the  flames  had 
burst  out  at  the  door.  In  addition  to  the 
value  of  what  they  thus  saved,  was  a  con- 
siderable insurance. 

As  usual,  those  miscreants  who  always 
avail  themselves  of  such  public  opportuni- 
ties to  exercise  their  skill  in  plundering, 
did  not  neglect  the  present  most  fruitful 
and  tempting  occasion.  The  extent  of 
their  depredations,  and  the  number  of  rob- 
bers who  committed  them,  were  commen- 
surate with  the  extent  and  character  of 
the  conflagration.  More  than  ninety  rob- 
bers were  taken  in  the  act  of  carrying 
away  property  during  the  night  of  the 
fire  ;  and  the  ensuing  day,  some  two  hun- 
dred more  were  arrested  for  having  in 
their  possession  property  which  was  stolen 
from  the  fire.  The  scenes  at  the  police 
office,  growing  out  of  these  criminal  prac- 
tices, were  of  a  kind  that  beggared  de- 
scription,—  the  squalid  misery  of  the 
greater  part  of  those  who  were  arrested 
with  their  ill-gotten  spoils,  the  lies  and 
prevarications  to  which  they  resorted  to 
induce  the  magistrates  not  to  commit 
them  to  prison,  their  objurgations  and 
wailings  when  they  found  they  must  re- 
linquish the  splendid  prizes  they  had 
seized  during  the  raging  of  the  fire  and 
the  accompanying  excitement.  The  num- 
bers in  which  these  persons  were  brought 
up  for  examination,  by  the  police  and  mil- 
itary, exceeded  anything  of  a  similar  kind 
on  record.  For  three  days  and  nights, 
every  place  capable  of  affording  detention 
was  crammed  with  these  unhappy  culprits 
—  sometimes  as  many  as  one  hundred 
being  in  confinement  at  the  same 
moment.  Hundreds  were  discharged 
without  any  other  proceedings  than 
merely  taking  from  them  their  plunder; 
and,  indeed,  but  very  few  of  the  whole 
number,  even  those  who  had  pillaged  to  a 
very  large  amount,  could  be  convicted  in 
a  court  of  justice,  in  consequence  of  the 
impossibility  of  identifying,  by  the  neces- 
sary legal  proof  in  such  cases,  the  prop- 
erty stolen.     But  thus  it  was — the   niglit 


of  terror  was  made  a  carnival  of  lawless- 
ness and  crime  ! 

On  the  second  night  after  the  conflagra- 
tion, a  couple  of  gentlemen  observed  a 
stout  Irish  woman  walking  up  Pearl  street, 
near  the  corner  of  Wall  street,  with  what 
was  evidently  a  ponderous  bundle  under 
her  cloak.  When  she  saw  the  gentlemen 
observing  her,  she  immediately  commenced 
singing,  with  the  usual  maternal  tone 
and  accent,  'Hush-a-by,  baby,'  etc.  The 
gentlemen  thinking  that  the  poor  baby 
was  quite  worrisome,  offered  their  aid  to 
quiet  its  infant  restlessness.  '  Oh,  bless 
your  honors,  she's  asleep  now,'  was  the 
response.  The  gentlemen  still  persisted 
in  having  a  peep  at  the  blooming  little 
cherub.  She  resisted — but  manly  tender- 
ness could  not  be  overcome  thus.  On 
opening  the  cloak,  they  found  that  the 
dear  little  creature,  in  the  terror  of  the 
moment,  had  actually  changed  into  an 
armful  of  the  richest  silk  and  satin  goods, 
slightly  burnt  at  the  ends.  The  affection- 
ate mother  w'as  immediately  secured  and 
put  beyond  the  reach  of  any  similar 
maternal  trials. 

It  is  sujiposed  that  a  thousand  baskets 
of  champagne  were  broken  and  destroyed, 
the  tops  being  unceremoniously  knocked 
off,  and  the  contents  drank  up  by  the 
crowds  surrounding  the  fire  or  working. 
An  immense  quantity  of  baskets  of  cham- 
pagne were  to  be  seen  floating  in  the 
docks,  and  cheese  and  provisions  were  pro- 
fusely scattered  about.  Had  it  not  been 
for  the  civic  patrols  formed  in  several  of 
the  wards,  property  to  a  much  greater 
amount  would  have  been  pillaged.  The 
United  States  marines,  too,  in  a  large 
bod}",  under  official  command,  formed  a 
complete  chain  of  sentinels,  all  along 
South  street,  from  the  Fulton  ferr}^  to 
Wall  street,  and  up  Wall  to  the  Exchange ; 
the}'  kept  their  post,  with  bayonets  fixed, 
all  night,  and  proved  a  terror  to  the  hordes 
of  thieves  hovering  around.  Nevertheless, 
in  addition  to  the  inevitable  robberies 
after  the  ordinary  methods,  vast  quanti- 
ties of  mercliandise  were  carried  off 
in    boats,   during    the    long    nights,    and 


GREAT  AND  MEMOliABLE  EVENTS. 


359 


secreted  on  the  Long  Island  and  Jersey 
shores. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  develop- 
ments of  crime,  in  the  midst  of  these 
scenes  of  terror  and  disaster,  was  the  case 
of  the  man  caught  in  the  act  of  setting 
fire  to  the  house  at  the  corner  of  Stone  and 
Broad  streets.  It  is  scarcely  possible  to 
conceive,  that  there  could  exist  such  a 
fiend  as  this  in  human  shape,  without  sup- 
posing him  to  be  either  a  maniac,  or  drunk 
with  liquor.  It  would  seem,  however,  to 
have  been  done  with  design — and  that  of 
the  most  diabolical  nature, — when  it  is 
considered  that  the  fearful  apprehensions 
of  the  whole  of  that  part  of  the  city  were 
directed  to  this  point,  lest  the  fire  would 
cross  it  and  reach  the  Battery. 

On  the  determination,  finally  arrived  at, 
to  check  the  onward  march  of  the  fire  by 
blowing  up  the  buildings  with  gunpowder, 
the  fate  of  the  city  was  believed  to  hang. 
The  material  with  which  to  carry  out  this 
plan  was,  as  already  observed,  obtained 
with  difficulty,  but  it  was  used  effectually 
when  once  secured.  Nothing  could  be 
more  characteristic  than  the  entire  sang 
froid  with  which  the  sailors  of  Captain 
Mix's  party  carried  about,  wrapped  up  in 
a  blanket,  or  a  pea-jacket,  as  it  might  hap- 
pen, kegs  and  barrels  of  gunpowder,  amid 
a  constant  shower  of  fire,  as  they  cour- 
ageously followed  their  officers  to  the 
various  buildings  indicated  for  destruction. 
Stung  with  the  cold,  the  hardy  fellows 
never  for  a  moment  quailed  in  the  per- 
formance of  their  duty.  So  inclement, 
indeed,  did  the  weather  continue,  that 
many  of  the  firemen  were  compelled  to 
take  the  fine  blankets  saved  from  the 
flames,  and,  cutting  a  hole  through  them, 
convert  them  into  temporary  cloaks :  in 
this  attire  they  were  seen  the  ensuing  day, 
dragging  home  their  engines,  many  of  the 
poor  fellows  being  so  exhausted  by  fatigue 
and  bitten  by  the  cold,  that  they  were  well 
nigh  asleep  as  they  walked.  One  entire 
company,  thus  accoutered, — thinking  the 
best  way  of  dealing  with  their  troubles  was 
to  make  light  of  them, — had  artificial 
wreaths  and  bunches  of  artificial  flowers. 


of  the  richest  kind,  in  their  caps,  picked 
up  from  the  wreck  of  matter  scattered 
beneath  their  feet ;  in  this  garb,  they 
left  the  scene  of  their  protracted  toil,  pre- 
senting a  very  singular  contrast  with 
their  begrimmed  faces  and  jaded  appear- 
ance. 

The  striking  advantage  of  railroads 
(then  in  their  infancy  in  the  United 
States),  especially  at  a  season  when  every- 
thing is  locked  up  in  ice,  was  never  more 
emphatically  demonstrated,  than  in  the 
prompt  arrival  of  fire  engines  from  New- 
ark, N.  J.,  nine  miles  distant.  The  same 
locomotive  that  early  on  Thursday  morn- 
ing carried  out  the  news  of  the  great  fire, 
brought  these  engines  on  their  platform 
within  an  hour  afterwards  to  the  city. 
Their  services  were  eminently  useful.  The 
noble  conduct,  too,  of  the  Philadelphia 
firemen,  won  for  them  deserved  praise. 
Immediately  on  the  receipt  of  the  intelli- 
gence from  New  York,  four  hundred  of 
them  organized  themselves  and  started  to 
go  on.  Unfortunately,  by  the  breaking 
down  of  one  of  the  cars  on  the  railroad,  a 
large  number  of  them  were  obliged  to  go 
back,  but  some  arrived  early  on  Saturday 
morning,  and  the  remainder  followed  with 
as  little  delay  as  possible.  They  reported 
themselves  immediately  on  arrival,  and 
having  stations  assigned  them  amid  the 
ruins,  went  to  work  with  great  spirit  and 
effect. 

The  appearance  of  things  on  the  day 
after  the  fire,  was  such  as  to  impress  itself, 
ineffaceably,  upon  the  memory.  It  re- 
quired but  a  slight  stretch  of  the  imagi- 
nation, for  the  beholder  to  feel  as  though 
he  were  in  the  vicinity  of  Pompeii,  with 
Vesuvius  sending  up  its  lurid  glare  close 
at  hand,  throwing  a  melancholy  light  over 
the  deserted  ruins.  Just  here  arose  a 
large  and  ragged  pile,  where  the  corners 
of  four  stately  buildings  still  stood  up  by 
mutual  support ;  there  towered  grandly  a 
solitary  chimney;  yonder  stood  the  frown- 
ing fragment  of  a  vast  wall ;  a  little  far- 
ther, was  the  front  of  a  half  block,  the 
windows  gone, —  reminding  one,  in  the 
dim  distance,  of  the  vacancy  and  desolar 


360 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


KUINS  OF  THE  MERCHANTS'  EXCHANGK. 


tion  of  a  castle ;  in  the  midst,  there 
loomed  up  half  a  dozen  cold-visaged  granite 
pillars,  standing  as  though  they  were  grim 
and  solitary  sentinels,  stationed  there  to 
frighten  the  plunderer  from  his  ill-sought 
boot3\  But  here  is  the  grandest  ruin  of 
all — the  Exchange  !  with  its  huge  pillars 
rent  and  torn  from  top  to  bottom,  and  the 
massy  architraves,  like  the  antiquated 
temples  of  Carthage  and  Palmyra,  still 
tottering  upon  their  capitals  !  So  vast 
was  the  barren  waste,  that  an  uninter- 
rupted view  was  afforded  from  Wall  street 
to  the  East  river,  and  thence  to  Coenties 
slip  ;  a  prospect  of  awful  grandeur,  as  far 
as  the  eye  could  reach. 

As  has  already  been  stated,  the  Exchange 
was  the  architectural  pride,  not  only  of 
New  York,  but  of  the  nation.  It  was 
three  magnificent  stories  in  height,  with 
corresponding  basement  and  attic.  The 
south-west  front,  one  hundred  and  fourteen 
feet  front,  and  the  main  front  on  Wall 
street,  was  of  Westchester  marble.  The 
first  and  second  stories  were  of  the  Ionic 
order,  from  the  temple  of  Minerva  Polias, 
at  Prigne,  in  Ionia.  A  recessed  elliptical 
portico,  of  forty  feet  width,  introduced   in 


front.  A  screen  of  four  columns  and  two 
antae,  each  thirty  feet  high,  and  three  feet 
four  inches  in  diameter  above  the  base, 
composed  of  a  single  block  of  marble,  ex- 
tended across  the  front  of  the  portico,  sup- 
porting an  elegant  entablature  of  six  feet 
in  height,  on  which  rested  the  third  story, 
making  a  height  of  sixty  feet  from  the 
ground,  and  the  cupola  which  crowned  the 
structure  was  also  sixty  feet  high. 

The  principal  entrance  to  the  rotunda 
and  exchange  room  was  by  a  flight  of 
marble  steps,  with  a  pedestal  at  each  end. 
The  vestibule  was  of  the  Ionic  order, 
from  the  little  Ionic  temple  of  Illyssus. 
The  exchange  room,  which  was  the  rotunda, 
measured  seventy-five  feet  long,  fifty  feet 
wide,  and  forty-two  feet  high.  In  the 
center  of  this  splendid  rotunda  was 
erected,  by  the  liberality  of  the  New  York 
merchants,  the  statue  of  Alexander  Ham- 
ilton, sculptured  by  Ball  Hughes.  This 
fine  work  of  art  was  about  fifteen  feet 
high,  including  the  base  on  which  it  was 
elevated,  and  chiseled  from  the  whitest 
marble. 

After  a  long  and  critical  official  investi- 
gation, as   to    the  origin  of  this  fire,  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


361 


conclusion  arrived  at  by  the  citizens'  com- 
mittee, was,  that  a  report  like  an  explo- 
sion of  a  gas-pipe  was  heard  in  the  store 
No.  25  Merchant  street,  to  proceed  from 
No.  28,  and  soon  after  the  flames  seemed 
to  have  been  enkindled  on  the  first  floor, 
and  shot    up  with   the    rapidity  of  light- 


ning through  the  scuttles  in  the  several 
floors  to  the  upper  story  and  through  the 
roof.  The  fire,  therefore,  must  have  been 
produced  by  the  bursting  of  a  gas-pipe, 
and  the  distribution  of  the  gas,  until  it 
came  in  contact  with  the  coal  in  the  stove 
or  grate,  by  which  it  was  ignited. 


XL. 

STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  RIGHT  OF  PETITION  IN  CON- 
GRESS.—1836. 


John  Quincy  Adams,  the  "Old  Man  Eloquent,"  Carries  on  a  Contest  of  Eleven  Days,  Single-Handed, 
in  its  Defense,  in  the  House  of  Representatives — Passage  of  the  "  Gag  Rule." — Expulsion  and  Assas- 
sination Threatened. — His  Unquailing  Courage. — A  Spectacle  Unwitnessed  Before  in  the  Halls  of 
Legislation  — Triumph  of  His  Master  Mind  — The  Right  and  Petition  a  Constitutional  One. — Indiscrim- 
inate and  Unrestricted. — Anti-Slavery  Petitions. — Mr.  Adams  Their  Champion. — An  Unpopular  Posi- 
tion.— He  Defies  every  Menace. — His  Bold  and  Intrepid  Conduct. — The  North  and  South  at  Variance. 
Monster  Petitions  Pour  In  — A  Memorial  from  Slaves. — Wild  Tumult  in  the  House. — Cries  of  "  Expel 
the  Old  Scoundrel!" — Proposal  to  Censure  and  Disgrace  Him — Mr.  Adams  Unmoved  Amidst  the 
Tempest — Eloquence  and  Indomitableness. — A  Petition  to  Dissolve  the  Union. — Increased  Exasper- 
ation.— Violent  and  Denunciatory  Debate. — Sublime  Bearing  of  Mr.  Adams. — Vindicated  and  Vic- 
torious at  Last. — What  He  Lived  to  See. — Honor  from  His  Opponents. 


"  Though  Hged,  he  was  so  iron  of  limb, 
Noneof  the  youth  could  cope  with  him; 
And  the  foes  whom  he  einglv  ke|il  at  bay, 
Outnumbered  his  hairs  of  white  and  gr«y." 


VENERABLE  in  years,  and  laden  with  political 
lionors — such  as  a  king  might  be  proud  of,  John 
Quincy  Adams  took  his  seat  as  a  member  of  the 
house  of  rej^resentatives  at  Washington,  in  1831. 
It  was  about  this  time,  that  the  anti-slavery  socie- 
ties of  the  North  began  to  petition  congress  for  the 
abolition  of  slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia,  the 
inhibition  of  the  inter-state  slave-trade,  and  kin- 
dred measures.  Though  comparatively  few  at  the 
outset,  the  petitioners  for  these  objects  increased 
greatly  in  numbers  during  the  next  four  or  five 
years,  until  they  reached,  in  one  congress,  three- 
fourths  of  a  million.  But  not  all  of  these  petition- 
ers were  'abolitionists,'  in  the  then  commonlj'- 
accepted  meaning  of  that  term.  In  the  defense  of 
the  untrainmeled  right  of  petition,  as  also  that  of 
the  freedom  of  speech  and  of  the  press,  it  became 
evident  to  con.si(U'r;ite  men,  of  all  parties,  that  not  alone  was  the  right  to  discuss  and 
petition  in  regard  to  slavery  involved,  but  that  vital  constitutional  principles  were  at 
stake,  and  that  these  must  be  defended,  irrespective  of  the  merits  of  the  particular  sub- 
ject over  which  the  battle  was  waged.    It  was  upon  this  broad  ground  that  Mr.  Adams, 


MONSTEK  PETITION  TO  CONGRESS. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


363 


'  the  old  man  eloquent,'  as  he  was  famil- 
iarly called,  bfoaiiu'  at  once  the  champion 
^f  freedom  of  debate  and  the  right  of  peti- 
:iou  in  the  national  legislature,  making 
not  America  only,  but  the  civilized  world, 
resound  with  the  clash  of  the  conflict.  Of 
the  long  and  eventful  life  of  this  extraor- 
dinary man,  the  chapter  covering  the 
events  here  recorded  may  perhaps  be 
regarded  as  the  most  striking  and  brilliant. 
The  exalted  positions  he  had  held,  almost 
from  the  very  foundation  of  the  govern- 
ment, his  multifarious  learning,  his  world- 
wide renown,  lent  luster  to  the  cause ; 
while  his  exhaustless  resources,  his  skill  in 
debate,  his  dauntless  courage  and  indomit- 
able will,  were  a  tower  of  strength  to  its 
friends,  and,  as  the  sequel  will  show,  a 
source  of  mortification  and  discomfit- 
ure to  its  foes.  No  threats  and  no  tu- 
mults could  for  a  moment  cause  him  to 
quail  or  waver  in  his  heroic  determina- 
tion. 

On  the  twelfth  of  December,  1831,  Mr. 
Adams,  then  at  the  very  outset  of  his  con- 
gressional career,  presented  fifteen  peti- 
tions, all  numerously  signed,  from  inhabi- 
tants of  Pennsylvania,  praying  for  the 
abolition  of  slavery  and  the  slave-trade  in 
the  District  of  Columbia.  In  presenting 
these  petitions,  Mr.  Adams  remarked,  that 
although  the  petitioners  were  not  his 
immediate  constituents,  he  inferred,  from  a 
letter  which  accompanied  the  petitions, 
that  they  came  from  members  of  the  Soci- 
ety of  Friends,  or  Quakers, — a  body  of 
men,  he  declared,  than  whom  there  was  no 
more  respectable  and  worthy  class  of  citi- 
zens in  the  whole  country.  At  the  same 
time,  while  he  considered  that  the  petitions 
for  the  abolition  of  the  slave-trade  in  the 
District  related  to  a  projjer  subject  for  the 
legislation  of  Congress,  he  did  not  approve 
of  those  which  prayed  for  the  congressional 
abolition  of  slavery  there. 

Similar  petitions  were  constanth'  for- 
warded from  different  parts  of  the  land, 
during  successive  terms  of  congress,  for 
Mr.  Adams  to  present,  the  parties  well 
knowing  that  they  could  rely  upon  his 
scrupulous   fidelity  to  them   in  the  high 


places  of  power,  and  that,  against  all  men- 
aces or  blandishments,  he  would  intrepidly 
advocate  that  most  sacred  privilege  of  free- 
men— the  right  of  petition. 

Becoming  alarmed  at  these  demonstra- 
tions, the  southern  members  of  congress 
determined  to  arrest  them,  and,  on  the 
eighth  of  February,  1836,  a  committee  of 
the  house  was  appointed  to  consider  what 
disposition  should  be  made  of  petitions  and 
memorials  of  this  nature.  The  report  of 
this  committee  consisted,  in  substance,  of 
three  resolutions,  as  follows :  First,  that 
congress  could  not  constitutionally  inter- 
fere with  slavery  in  any  of  the  states ; 
second,  that  it  ought  not  to  interfere  with 
slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia  ;  third, 
that  all  petitions,  propositions^  or  papers  of 
any  kind,  relating  to  the  subject,  should, 
if  brought  before  congress,  be  laid  upon 
the  table,  without  liberty  of  debate,  and 
receive  no  further  action.  TJiis  report 
was  the  casting  of  the  die.  Well  was  it 
called  the  "  Gag  Rule." 

When  the  first  of  these  resolutions  was 
taken  up,  Mr.  Adams  said,  if  the  house 
would  allow  him  five  minutes'  time,  he 
would  prove  the  resolution  to  be  untrue. 
His  request  was  denied.  On  the  third 
declaration,  Mr.  Adams  refused  to  vote, 
and  sent  to  the  speaker's  chair  the  follow- 
ing protest,  demanding  that  it  should  be 
placed  on  the  journal  of  the  house,  there 
to  stand  to  the  latest  posterity : 

"  I  hold  the  resolution  to  be  a  direct  vio- 
lation of  the  constitution  of  the  United 
States,  of  the  rules  of  this  house,  and  of 
the  rights  of  my  constituents." 

Notwithstanding  the  rule  embodied  in 
this  resolution  virtually  trampled  the  right 
of  petition  into  the  dust,  yet  it  was  adopted 
by  the  house,  by  a  large  majority.  But 
Mr.  Adams  was  not  to  be  bafiled  by  this 
arbitrary  restriction.  Petitions  on  the 
subject  of  slavery  continued  to  be  trans- 
mitted to  him  in  increased  numbers,  some 
of  them  of  monster  size,  bearing  thousands 
of  signatures.  With  unwavering  firmnest, 
— against  a  bitter  and  unscrupulous  oppo- 
sition, exasperated  to  the  highest  pitch  by 
bis  unconquerable  pertinacity  —  amidst  a 


364 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


perfect  tempest  of  vituperation  and  abuse 
— he  persevered,  unvanquislied,  in  present- 
ing these  petitions,  one  bj''  one,  to  the 
amount  sometimes  of  two  hundred  in  a 
day,  and  demanding  the  attention  of  the 
house  on  each  separate  petition.  His 
l>osition  in  these  scenes,  —  advocating, 
amidst  scorn  and  derision,  and  threats  of 
expulsion  and  assassination,  the  inalienable 


right  of  petition  for  the  poorest  and  hum- 
blest in  the  land, — was  in  the  highest 
degree  illustrious  and  sublime  ;  a  spectacle 
unwitnessed  before  in  the  halls  of  legisla- 
tion. 

On  the  sixth  of  January,  1837,  Mr. 
Adams  presented  the  petition  of  one  hun- 
ilred  and  fifty  women,  whom  he  stated  to 
Itc  the  wives  and  daughters  of  his  immedi- 
ate constituents,  praying  for  the  abolition 
of  slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia ; 
and  he  moved  that  the  petition  be  read. 
Objection  was  made,  whereupon  Mr. 
Adams  remarked  that,  understanding  that 
it  was  not  the  petition  itself  which  was 
laid  upon  the  table,  but  the  motion  to 
receive,  he  gave  notice  that  he  should  call 
up  that  motion,  for  decision,  every  day,  so 
long  as  freedom  of  speech  was  allowed  to 
him  as  a  member  of  the  house.  Being 
called  to  order  at  this  stage  of  proceedings, 
Mr.  Adams  said  he  would  then  have  the 
honor  of  presenting  to  the  house  the  peti- 
tion of  two  hundred  and  twenty-eight 
women,   the  wives  and   daughters  of  his 


immediate  constituents;  and,  as  a  part  of 
the  speech  which  he  intended  to  make,  he 
would  take  the  liberty  of  reading  the  peti- 
tion, which  was  not  long,  and  would  not 
consume  much  time.  Objection  being 
made  to  the  reception  of  the  petition,  Mr. 
Adams  at  once  proceeded  to  read,  that  the 
petitioners,  inhabitants  of  South  Wey- 
mouth, in  the  state  of  Massachusetts, 
"impressed  with  the  sinfulness  of  slavery, 
and  keenly  aggrieved  by  its  existence  in 
a  part  of  our  country  over  which  con- 
gress   " 

Here  Mr.  Pinckney,  of  South  Carolina, 
rose  to  a  question  of  order,  and,  after  a 
brisk  colloquy  in  the  house,  the  sjieaker 
ruled  that  Mr.  Adams  must  confine  him- 
self to  stating  the  contents  of  the  petition. 

Mr.  Adams. — I  am  doing  so,  sir. 

The  Speaker. — Not  in  the  opinion  of 
the  chair. 

Mr.  Adams. — I  was  at  this  point  of  the 
petition:  "Keenly  aggrieved  by  its  exist- 
ence in  a  part  of  our  country  over  which 
congress  possesses  exclusive  jurisdiction 
in  all  cases  whatsoever " 

Loud  cries  of  "  Order,"  "  Order  !  " 

Mr.  Adams. — "  Do  most  earnestly  peti- 
tion your  honorable  body " 

Mr.  Chambers,  of  Kentucky,  rose  to  a 
point  of  order. 

Mr.  Adams. — "Immediately  to  abolish 
slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia " 

Mr.  Chambers  reiterated  his  call  to 
order,  and  the  Speaker  directed  Mr. 
Adams  to  take  his  seat. 

Mr.  Adams  proceeded,  however,  with 
great  rapidity  of  enunciation,  and  in  a 
very  loud  tone  of  voice — "  And  to  declare 
every  liunian  being  free  who  sets  foot  iipon 
its  soil/" 

The  confusion  in  the  hall  at  this  time 
was  very  great.  The  speaker  decided  that 
it  was  not  in  order  for  a  member  to  read  a 
petition,  whether  it  was  long  or  short. 

Mr.  Adams  appealed  from  any  decision 
which  went  to  establish  the  principle  that 
a  member  of  the  United  States  house  of 
representatives  should  not  have  the  power 
to  read  what  he  chose.  He  had  never 
before  heard  of  such  a  thing.     If  the  hith- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


365 


erto  invariable  practice  was  to  be  reversed, 
let  the  decision  stand  u[khi  record,  and  let 
it  appear  how  entirely  tlu-  freedom  of 
speech  was  suppressed  in  this  house.  If 
the  reading  of  a  paper  was  to  be  suppressed 
in  his  person,  so  help  him  God,  he  would 
only  consent  to  it  as  a  matter  of  record. 
Saying  this,  he  instantly  resumed  and 
finished  the  reading  of  the  petition,  that 
the  petitioners 

" respectfully  announce  their  inten- 
tion to  present  the  same  petition  3'early 
before  this  honorable  body,  that  it  might 
at  least  be  a  memorial  in  the  holy  cause  of 
human  freedom,  that  they  had  done  what 
they  could." 

These  words  were  read  by  Mr.  Adams, 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  amidst  tumultuous 
cries  of  "order"  from  every  part  of  the 
house.  The  petition  was  finally  received, 
and  laid  upon  the  table. 

One  month  after  this,  namely,  on  the 
seventh  of  Februar}',  after  Mr.  Adams  had 
offered  some  two  hundred  or  more  aboli- 
tion petitions,  he  came  to  a  halt,  and,  with- 
out yielding  the  floor,  employed  himself  in 
packing  up  or  arranging  his  budget  of 
documents.  He  was  about  resuming  his 
seat,  when,  suddenly  glancing  at  a  paper 
on  his  desk,  he  took  it  up,  and  exclaimed, 
in  a  shrill  tone — 

"  Mr.  Speaker,  I  have  in  my  possession, 
a  petition  of  a  somewhat  extraordinary 
character;  and  I  wish  to  inquire  of  the 
chair  if  it  be  in  order  to  present  it." 

The  Speaker  replied,  that  if  the  gentle- 
man from  Massachusetts  would  state  the 
character  of  the  petition,  the  chair  would 
probably  be  able  to  decide  on  the  subject. 

"Sir,"  ejaculated  Mr,  Adams,  "the 
petition  is  signed  by  eleven  slaves  of  the 
town  of  Fredericksburg,  in  the  county  of 
Culpepper,  in  the  state  of  Virginia.  It  is 
one  of  those  petitions  which,  it  has  oc- 
curred to  my  mind,  are  not  what  they 
purport  to  be.  It  is  signed  partly  by  per- 
sons who  cannot  write,  by  making  their 
marks,  and  partly  by  persons  whose  hand- 
writing would  manifest  that  they  have 
received  the  education  of  slaves.  The 
petition  declares  itself  to  be  from  slaves. 


and  I  am  requested  to  present  it.     I  will 
send  it  to  the  chair." 

The  speaker,  Mr.  Polk,  who  habitually 
extended  to  Mr.  Adams  every  courtesy 
and  kindness  imaginable,  was  taken  by 
surprise,  and  found  himself  involved  in  a 
dilemma.  Giving  his  chair  one  of  those 
hitches  which  ever  denoted  his  excitement, 
he  said  that  a  petition  from  slaves  was  a 
novelty,  and  involved  a  question  that  he 
did  not  feel  called  on  to  decide.  He 
would  like  to  take  time  to  consider  it ;  and, 
in  the  meantime,  would  refer  it  to  the 
house.  The  house  was  A'ery  thin  at  the 
time,  and  but  little  attention  was  paid  to 
what  was  going  on,  till  the  excitement  of 
the  speaker  attracted  the  attention  of  Mr. 
Dixon  H.  Lewis,  of  Alabama,  who  impa- 
tiently, and  under  great  excitement,  rose 
and  inquired  what  the  petition  was.  The 
speaker  furnished  the  required  informa- 
tion; whereupon  Mr.  Lewis,  forgetting  all 
discretion,  whilst  he  frothed  at  the  mouth, 
turned  towards  Mr.  Adams,  and  exclaimed, 
in  thunder-tones — 

"  Bi/ ,  sii',  this  is  not  to  be  endured 

any  longer  !  " 

"  Treason  !  treason  !  Expel  the  old  scoun- 
drel ;  put  him  out;  do  not  let  him  disgrace 
the  house  any  longer,"  screamed  a  half 
dozen  other  members. 

"  Get  up  a  resolution  to  meet  the  case," 
exclaimed  a  member  from  North  Carolina. 
Mr.  George  C.  Dromgoole,  who  had  ac- 
quired quite  a  reputation  as  a  parliamen- 
tarian, was  selected  as  the  very  man  who, 
of  all  others,  was  most  capable  of  drawing 
up  a  resolution  that  would  meet  and  cover 
the  emergency.  He  produced  a  resolution 
and  preamble,  in  which  it  was  stated,  sub- 
stantially, that,  whereas  the  Hon.  John 
Quincy  Adams,  a  representative  from  Mas- 
sachusetts, had  presented  to  the  house  a 
petition  signed  by  negro  slaves,  thus 
"  giving  color  to  an  idea  "  that  bondmen 
were  capable  of  exercising  the  right  of 
petition,  it  was  "  Resolved,  That  he  be 
taken  to  the  bar  of  the  house,  and  be  cen- 
sured by  the  speaker  thereof." 

A  still  more  stringent  resolution  was 
introduced   by  Hon.    Waddy   Thompson, 


366 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


namely,  that  Mr.  Adams,  ''having  been 
guilty  of  gross  disrespect  to  the  house,  be 
instantly  brought  to  the  bar,  to  receive 
the  severe  censure  of  the  speaker."  Sev- 
eral other  resolutions  and  propositions, 
from  members  of  slave-holding  states,  were 
submitted,  but  none  proved  satisfactory 
even  to  themselves.  The  idea  of  bringing 
the  venerable  ex-president  to  the  bar,  like 
a  culprit,  to  receive  a  reprimand  from  a 
comparatively  youthful  speaker,  was  equal- 
ly disgraceful  and  absurd.  Mr.  Adams, 
however,  entirely  unmoved  by  the  tempest 
which  raged  around  him,  defended  him- 
self, and  the  integrity  of  his  purpose,  with 
his  accustomed  ability  and  eloquence. 

"In  regard  to  the  resolutions  now 
before  the  house,"  said  he,  "as  they  all 
concur  in  naming  me,  and  in  charging  me 
with  high  crimes  and  misdemeanors,  and 
in  calling  me  to  the  bar  of  the  house  to 
answer  for  my  crimes,  I  have  thought  it 
was  my  duty  to  remain  silent,  until  it 
should  be  the  pleasure  of  the  house  to  act 
either  on  one  or  the  other  of  these  resolu- 
tions. I  suppose  that  if  I  shall  be  brought 
to  the  bar  of  the  house,  I  shall  not  be 
struck  mute  by  the  previous  question, 
before  I  have  an  opj^ortunity  to  say  a  word 
or  two  in  my  own  defense." 

"Now,  as  to  the  fact  what  the  petition 
was  for,"  said  Mr.  Adams,  in  another  por- 
tion of  his  speech,  "I  simply  state  to  the 
gentleman  from  Alabama,  who  has  sent  to 
the  table  a  resolution  assuming  that  this 
petition  was  for  the  abolition  of  slavery — 
I  state  to  him  that  he  is  mistaken.  He 
must  amend  his  resolution;  for  if  the 
house  should  choose  to  read  this  petition, 
I  can  state  to  them  they  would  find  it 
something  very  much  the  reverse  of  that 
which  the  resolution  states  it  to  be.  And 
if  the  gentleman  from  Alabama  still 
chooses  to  bring  me  to  the  bar  of  the 
house,  he  must  amend  his  resolution  in  a 
very  important  particular;  for  he  may 
probably  have  to  put  into  it,  that  my  crime 
has  been  for  attempting  to  introduce  the 
petition  of  slaves  that  slavery  should  not 
be  abolished." 

Reiterating  the  principle,  that  the  right 


of  petition  belongs  to  all,  Mr.  Adams  said 
that  he  felt  it  a  sacred  duty  to  present  any 
petition,  couched  in  respectful  language, 
from  any  citizen  of  the  United  States,  be 
its  object  what  it  might, — be  the  prayer  of 
it  that  in  which  he  could  concur,  or  that  to 
which  he  was  utterly  opposed;  no  law 
could  be  found,  even  in  the  most  abject 
despotism,  which  deprives  even  the  mean- 
est or  most  degraded,  of  the  right  to  suji- 
plicate  for  a  boon,  or  to  pray  for  mercy ; 
there  is  no  absolute  monarch  on  earth,  who 
is  not  compelled  to  receive  the  petitions  of 
his  people,  whosoever  they  may  be, — not 
even  the  sultan  of  Turkey  can  walk  the 
streets  and  refuse  to  receive  petitions  from 
the  lowest  and  vilest  of  the  land. 

When  southern  members  saw  that,  in 
their  haste,  they  had  not  tarried  to  ascer- 
tain the  nature  of  the  petition,  and  that  it 
jDrayed  for  the  perpetuation,  instead  of  the 
ahoHtion  of  slavery,  their  position  became 
so  ludicrous,  that  their  exasperation  was 
greatly  increased.  At  the  time  the 
petition  was  announced  by  Mr.  Adams, 
the  house  was  very  thin ;  but  the  excite- 
ment that  was  produced  soon  filled  it; 
and,  besides,  the  sergeant-at-arms  had  been 
instructed  to  arrest  and  bring  in  all  absen- 
tees. The  excitement  commenced  at  about 
one  o'clock,  and  continued  until  seven 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  the  house 
adjourned.  Mr.  Adams  stood  at  his  desk, 
resolutely  refusing  to  be  seated  till  the 
matter  was  disposed  of,  alleging  that  if 
he  were  guilt}'^,  he  was  not  entitled  to  a 
seat  among  high  and  honorable  men. 
When  Mr.  Dromgoole's  resolution  was 
read  to  the  house,  for  its  consideration, 
Mr.  Adams  yielded  to  it  one  of  those  sar- 
castic sneers  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
giving,  when  provoked  to  satire;  and  said 
— "Mr.  Speaker,  if  I  understand  the  reso- 
lution of  the  honorable  gentleman  from 
Virginia,  it  charges  me  with  being  guilty 
of  '  giving  color  to  an  idea  ! ' "  The  whole 
house  broke  forth  in  one  common,  irrepres- 
sible peal  of  laughter,  at  this  capital  double 
entendre;  and  the  Dromgoole  resolution 
was  actually  laughed  out  of  existence. 
The  house  now  found  that  it  had  got  itself 


GREAT  AND  MEMOllABLE  EVENTS. 


367 


in  a  dilemma — that  Mv.  Adams  was  too 
much  for  it;  and,  at  last,  adjourned,  leav- 
ing the  affair  in  the  position  in  -which 
they  found  it. 

For  several  days  this  subject  continued 
to  agitate  the  house — and  the  nation.  Mr. 
Adams  not  only  warded  off  the  virulent 
attacks  made  upon  him,  but  carried  the 
war  so  effectually  into  the  camp  of  his  ene- 
mies, that,  becoming  heartily  tired  of  the 
contest,  they  repeatedly  endeavored  to  get 
rid  of  the  whole  subject  by  laying  it  on 
the  table.  To  this  Mr.  Adams  objected. 
He  insisted  that  it  should  be  thoroughly 
canvassed.  Immense  excitement  contin- 
ued, and  call  after  call  of  the  house  was 
made.  At  length,  the  subject  was  brought 
to  a  termination  by  the  passage  of  a  pre- 
amble and  resolution  —  much  softened 
down,  in  comi:)arison  with  what  was  at  first 
proposed — declaring  that  the  paper  cannot 
be  received,  and  that  slaves  have  no  right 
to  petition. 

The  slave  petition  in  question  is  believed 
to  have  been  a  counterfeit,  manufactured 
by  certain  members  of  congress  from 
slave-holding  states,  and  was  sent  to  Mr. 
Adams  by  way  of  experiment — with  the 
double  design  of  ascertaining  if  he  could 
be  imposed  upon ;  and,  if  the  deception 
succeeded,  those  who  got  it  up  were  curi- 
ous to  know  if  the  venerable  statesman 
would  redeem  his  pledge,  and  present  a 
petition,  no  matter  who  it  came  from.  He 
was  too  wily  not  to  detect  the  plot  at  the 
outset ;  he  knew  that  all  was  a  hoax ;  but 
he  resolved  to  present  the  paper,  and  then 
turn  the  tables  upon  its  authors. 

His  success  in  thus  defeating  his  oppo- 
nents on  their  mad  intention  of  censure, 
was  one  of  the  most  signal  instances  of 
personal  and  parliamentaiy  triumph.  In 
vain  did  they  threaten  assassination, 
indictment  before  the  grand  jury,  and 
other  proceedings,  to  seal  his  lips  in 
silence.  In  vain,  too,  did  they  declare 
that  he  should  "be  made  amenable  to 
another  trihimal  (mob  law),  and,  as  an 
incendiary,  be  brought  to  condign  punish- 
ment." "  My  life  on  it,"  said  a  southern 
member,  "if  he  presents  that  petition  from 


slaves,  we  shall  yet  see  him  within  the 
walls  of  the  penitentiary."  Firm  stood 
the  white-haired  sage  of  more  than  seventy 
winters,  and  with  withering  rebukes 
repelled  his  hot-blooded  assailants.  His 
clarion  voice  rang  defiantly  through  the 
hall,  as  he  said — 

"  Do  the  gentlemen  from  the  south 
think  they  can  frighten  me  by  their 
threats  ?  If  that  be  their  object,  let  me 
tell  them,  sir,  tlieij  Itave  jirecise.lij  viistaken 
their  man.  I  am  not  to  be  frightened 
from  the  discharge  of  a  sacred  duty,  by 
their  indignation,  by  their  violence,  nor, 
sir,  by  all  the  grand  juries  in  the  universe. 
I  have  done  only  my  duty;  and  I  shall  do 
it  again,  under  the  same  circumstances, 
even  though  they  recur  to-morrow." 

On  the  twenty-fourth  of  January,  1842, 
Mr.  Adams  presented  the  petition  of  forty- 
five  citizens  of  Haverhill,  Massachusetts, 
praying  that  congress  would  immediately 
take  measures  peaceably  to  dissolve  the 
Union  of  the  States :  First,  because  no 
union  can  be  agreeable  which  does  not 
present  prospects  of  reciprocal  benefits ; 
second,  because  a  vast  proportion  of  the 
resources  of  one  section  of  the  Union  is 
annually  drained  to  sustain  the  views  and 
course  of  another  section,  without  any 
adequate  return;  third,  because,  judging 
from  the  history  of  past  nations,  such  a 
union,  if  persisted  in,  in  the  present  course 
of  things,  would  certainly  overwhelm  the 
whole  nation  in  utter  destruction. 

Mr.  Adams  moved  that  the  petition  be 
referred  to  a  select  committee,  with  in- 
structions to  report  an  answer  showing  the 
reasons  why  the  jjrayer  of  it  ought  not  to 
be  granted. 

Immediate  and  wild  excitement  fol- 
lowed the  presentation  of  this  petition. 
Mr.  Hopkins,  of  Virginia,  moved  to  burn 
it  in  presence  of  the  house.  Mr.  Wise,  of 
the  same  state,  asked  the  speaker  if  it  was 
in  order  to  move  to  censure  anj-^  member 
for  presenting  such  a  petition.  Mr. 
Gilmer,  also  of  Virginia,  moved  a  resolu- 
tion, that  Mr.  Adams,  for  presenting  such 
a  petition,  had  justly  incurred  the  censure 
of  the  house.     Mr.  Adams  said  he  hoped 


368 


OUE  riEST  CENTUEY.— 1776-1876. 


JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS  DEFENDING  THE   RIGHT  OF  PBTITION  IN  CONGRESS. 


that  the  resolution  would  be  received  and 
discussed.  Angry  debate  continued,  until 
the  house  adjourned. 

The  next  day,  the  whole  body  of  south- 
ern members  came  into  the  house,  appar- 
ently resolved  to  crush  Mr.  Adams  and  his 
cause  —  the  right  of  petition — forever. 
They  gathered  in  groups,  conversed  in 
whispers,  and  the  whole  aspect  of  their 
conduct  at  twelve  o'clock  indicated  the 
approach  of  some  high-handed  proceeding. 
Thomas  F.  Marshall,  of  Kentucky,  who 
had  been  selected  as  spokesman  for  the 


occasion,    rose,    and, 


having 


asked    and 


received  of  Mr.  Gilmer  leave  to  offer  a 
substitute  for  his  resolution  of  censure 
which  was  pending  at  the  adjournment, 
presented  three  resolutions,  which  had 
been  prepared  at  a  caucus,  the  night 
before,  and  which  declared  that  the  peti- 
tion in  question  involved  a  proposition  to 
the  house  to  commit  perjury  and  high 
treason,  and  that  Mr.  Adams,  for  offering 
it,  receive  the  severest  censure  ^^  that 
body. 

Assuming  a  manner  and  tone  ao  if  ho 


felt  the  historical  importance  of  his  posi- 
tion, he  spoke  with  great  coolness  and 
solemnity, —  a  style  wholly  unusual  Avith 
him ;  exhibited,  too,  a  magisterial  air,  and 
judicial  consequence,  as  if  he  thought  that 
he  Avas  about  to  pour  down  the  thunder  of 
condemnation  on  the  A^enerable  object  of 
his  attack,  as  a  judge  pronouncing  sentence 
on  a  convicted  culprit,  in  the  sight  of 
approAnng  men  and  angels.  The  A'ast 
audience  before  whom  he  spoke  were  not 
to  be  left  in  any  doubt  of  his  eminent 
capacity  to  act  the  part  he  had.  assumed, 
of  prosecutor,  judge,  and  executioner. 

"Wlien  Mr.  Marshall  concluded,  the 
chair  announced  to  Mr.  Adams  that  his 
position  entitled  him  to  the  floor  ;  bringing 
up  to  the  imagination  a  parallel  scene — 
•Then  Agrippa  said  unto  Paul,  Thou  art 
permitted  to  speak  for  thyself.' 

Up  rose,  then,  that  bald,  gray  old  man, 
his  hands  trembling  with  constitutional 
infirmity  and  age,  upon  Avhose  consecrated 
head  the  vials  of  partisan  wrath  had  been 
outpoi;red.  Among  the  croAvd  of  slave- 
holders AA'ho  filled  the  galleries  he  could 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


369 


seek  no  friends,  and  Init  a  lew  among  those 
immediately  around  liim.  Uiiexcited,  lie 
raised  his  voice,  high-keyed,  as  was  usual 
Avith  hiiu,  hut  clear,  untrcmulous,  and 
firm.  In  a  moment  his  inlinuities  disaj)- 
peared,  although  his  shaking  hand  could 
not  hut  he  noticed;  tremlding  nut  witli 
fear,  hut  with  age.  At  iirst  there  was 
nothing  of  indignation  in  his  tone,  niannei-, 
or  words.  Sur[)rise  and  cold  contempt 
were  all.  The  thread  of  ids  great  dist'ourse 
was  mainly  his  present  and  past  relations 
to  Virginia  and  V^irginians.  After  grate- 
fully acknowledging  his  inlinite  ohligations 
to  the  great  Virginians  of  the  first  age  of 
the  federal  re2)uhlic,  he  modestly  and 
unpretendingly  recounted  the  nnsonght, 
exalted  honors,  heaped  upon  him  hy  Wash- 
ington, IMadison,  and  Monroe,  and  detailed 
with  tou(diing  simplicity  and  fore©  some  of 
his  leading  actions  in  the  discharge  of 
these  weighty  trusts.  In  pursuing  his 
remarks,  he  chanced  to  fix  ids  eye  upon 
Marshall,  who  was  moving  down  one  of 
the  side-aisles.  Instantly,  at  the  sugges- 
tion of  the  moment,  he  hurst  forth  in  a 
touching  appeal  to  the  hallowed  memory 
of  Marshall,  the  venerated  and  immaculate 
Virginian,  through  a  long  career  of  judi- 
cial honor  and  usefulness.  With  a  flash 
of  withering  scorn,  Mr.  Adams  struck  at 
the  unhappy  Marshall  of  another  day.  A 
single  hreath  hlew  all  his  mock-judicial 
array  into  air  and  smoke.  In  a  tone  of 
insulted  majesty  and  reinvigox-ated  spirit, 
Mr.  Adams  then  said,  in  reply  to  the  auda- 
cious charge  of  high  treason, 

''  I  call  for  the  reading  of  the  first  para- 
graph of  the  Declaration  of  Independence, 
Read  it!  read  it!  and  see  wdiat  that  says 
of  the  right  of  a  people  to  reform,  to 
change,  to  dissolve  their  government." 

The  look,  the  tone,  the  gesture,  of  the 

insulted  patriot,  at  that  instant,  w^ere  most 

imposing.    He  seemed  to  have  renewed  his 

youth  like  the  eagles,  and   his  voice  was 

that  of  sovereign  command.     The  burthen 

of  seventy-five  winters   rolled  off,  and  he 

rose  above   the  puny  things  around  him. 

When  the  passage  of  the  Declaration  was 

read  wdiich  solemnly  proclaims  the  right 
24 


of  reform,  revolution,  and  resistance  to 
oppression,  the  grand  old  man  thundered 
out — 

"  Urad  that  <i(j<iui  ! ''' 

Looking  proudly  around  on  the  listen- 
ing audience,  \\v  heard  liis  triuuiphaiiV 
vindication  sounded  forth  in  the  glorious 
sentences  of  the  nation's  Magna  Charta, 
written  b}'^  INFr.  Jefferson,  a  Virginian. 
The  sympathetic  revulsion  of  feeling  was 
intense,  though  voiceless ;  every  drop  of 
free,  honest  lilood  in  that  vast  assemblage 
bounded  with  high  in)[iulse,  every  fiber 
thrilled  with  excitement.  The  niemliers 
of  the  house  were  all  gathered  arouinl  liini, 
even  his  persecutors  paying  involuntary 
tribute  to  the  'old  man  eloquent.'  Lord 
jNIorpeth  was  an  attentive  spectator  and 
auditor ;  and  so  were  governors,  senators, 
judges,  and  other  high  officials,  innumera- 
ble. A  strong  exhibition  of  the  facts  in 
the  case,  mostly  in  cold,  calm,  logical, 
measured  sentences,  concluded  Mr.  Adams's 
effort,  and  he  sat  down,  vindicated,  victo- 
rious. 

Intemperate  debates,  with  violence  undi- 
minished, succeeded,  in  which  all  the 
topics  of  party  censure,  from  the  adoption 
of  the  constitution,  were  collected  and 
heaped  upon  ]\Ir.  Adams,  by  Marshall, 
Wise,  Gilmer,  and  others.  No  description 
can  do  justice  to  the  effective  eloquence  of 
Mr.  Adams  in  reply, — including  amusing 
particulars  of  missives  he  had  received 
from  the  south  threatening  him  with 
assassination  ;  among  other  kindly  hints, 
of  this  sort,  sent  through  the  post-office, 
being  a  colored  lithograph  portrait  of  him- 
self, with  the  picturesque  annotation  of  a 
rifle-ball  on  the  forehead,  and  a  promise 
that  such  a  remedy  would  "stop  his 
music." 

On  the  eleventh  day  of  this  debate,  Mr. 
Adams,  in  opening  his  defense,  stated  it 
as  his  intention  to  go  over  the  whole  affair, 
and  that  he  should  require  a  great  deal 
more  time,  in  addition  to  what  had  already 
been  consumed;  but  he  was  willing  to 
forego  it  all,  provided  it  could  be  done 
without  sacrificing  his  rights,  the  rights 
of  his  constituents,  and  those  of  the  peti- 


370 


OUR  FIEST  CEXTURY.— 1776-1876. 


tioners.  He  then  stated,  that  if  any 
gentleman  would  make  a  motion  to  lay  the 
whole  subject  —  that  of  which  jNIarshall 
had  been  made  the  champion  —  on  the 
table,  he  would  forbear  to  proceed  with 
his  defense.  This  motion  was  at  once 
made  by  Mr.  Botts,  of  Virginia,  and  car- 
ried by  a  vote  of  one  hundred  and  six  to 
ninety-three.  The  petition  from  Haverhill 
was  then  refused  to  be  received,  three- 
fourths  of  the  house  voting  against  it. 

It  would  appear  well-nigh  incredible, 
that  a  venerable  man  like  Mr.  Adams 
should  be  able  to  carry  on,  for  eleven 
daj's,  almost  single-handed,  so  great  a  con- 
test. That  this  was  due,  in  no  small 
degree,  to  his  consummate  skill  as  a  par- 
liamentarian, cannot  be  questioned.  The 
following  memorable  instance  of  his  power 
in  this  respect,  will  form  a  fitting  close  to 
this  chapter. 

At  the  opening  of  the  twenty-sixth  con- 
gress, the  clerk  began  to  call  the  roll  of 
the  members,  according  to  custom.  When 
he  came  to  New  Jersey,  he  stated  that 
five  seats  of  the  members  from  that  state 
were  contested,  and  that,  not  feeling  him- 
self authorized  to  decide  the  question,  he 
should  pass  over  those  names,  and  proceed 
with  the  call.  This  gave  rise  to  a  general 
and  violent  debate  on  the  steps  to  be  pur- 
sued under  such  circumstances.  Innumer- 
able questions  were  raised,  and  proposi- 
tions made,  but  the  house  could  not  agree 
upon  tlie  mode  of  proceeding,  and,  from 
the  second  to  the  fifth  day,  the  house 
remaiiifil  in  a  perfectly  disorganized  state, 
and  in  inextricable  confusion,  the  clerk 
acting  as  the  tool  of  his  party.  But  the 
hour  of  disenthrallment  was  at  hand  ;  a 
scene  was  to  be  presented  which  would 
send  the  mind  back  to  those  days  when 
Cromwell  exchiimed,  ''Sir  Harry  Vane! 
Wo  unto  you,  Sir  Harry  Vane  !" — and  in 
an  instant  dispersed  the  famous  rump  par- 
liament. 

Mr.  Adams,  from  the  opening  of  this 
scene  of  confusion  and  anarchy,  had  main- 
tained a  profomul  silence.  He  appeared 
to  be  engaged  most  of  the  time  in  writing. 
To  a  common    observer   he  seemed  to  be 


reckless  of  everything  around  him.  But 
nothing,  not  the  slightest  incident,  escaped 
him. 

The  fourth  day  of  the  struggle  had 
now  commenced.  Mr.  Hugh  A.  Garland, 
the  clerk,  was  directed  to  call  the  roll 
again.  He  commenced  with  Maine,  as 
usual  in  those  days,  and  was  proceeding 
towards  Massachusetts.  Mr.  Adams  was 
now  observed  to  be  holding  himself  in 
readiness  to  get  the  floor  at  the  earliest 
moment  possible.  His  eye  was  riveted 
on  the  clerk,  his  hands  clasped  the  frojit 
edge  of  his  desk,  where  he  always  placed 
them  to  assist  him  in  rising.  He  looked, 
in  the  language  of  Otway,  like  a  '  fowler 
eager  for  his  pre}'.' 

"  New  Jersey  ! "  ejaculated  Mr.  Hugh 
Garland,  "and  the  clerk  has  to  repeat 
that " 

Mr.  Adams  sprang  to  the  floor ! 

"  I  rise  to  interrupt  the  clerk,"  was  his 
first  ejaculation. 

"  Silence,  silence  !  "  resounded  through 
the  hall.  "Hear  him,  hear  him!  Hear 
what  he  has  to  say  I  Hear  John  Quincy 
Adams  !"  was  vociferated  on  all  sides. 

In  an  instant,  such  profound  silence 
reigned  throughout  the  vast  chamber,  that 
the  fall  of  a  leaf  of  pa^^er  might  have  been 
heard  in  an}^  part  of  it;  and  every  eye  was 
riveted  on  the  venerable  Nestor  of  Massa- 
chusetts,— one  of  the  purest  of  statesmen 
and  noblest  of  men  !  He  paused  for  a 
moment,  and,  having  given  Mr.  Garland 
a  withering  look,  he  proceeded  to  address 
the  dense  throng. 

'•It  was  not  my  intention,"  said  he,  "to 
take  any  part  in  these  extraordinary  pro- 
ceedings. I  had  hoped  that  this  house 
would  succeed  in  organizing  itself;  that  a 
speaker  and  clerk  would  be  elected,  and 
that  the  ordinary  business  of  legislation 
would  have  been  progressed  in.  This  is 
not  the  time,  or  ])lace,  to  discuss  the 
merits  of  the  conflicting  claimants  for 
seats  from  New  Jersey ;  that  subject 
belongs  to  the  house  of  representatives, 
which,  by  the  constitution,  is  made  the 
ultimate  arbiter  of  the  qualifications  of  its 
members.     But  what  a  spectacle  we  here 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


971 


present !  We  degrade  and  disgrace  our- 
oelves ;  we  degrade  and  disgrace  our  con- 
stituents and  our  country.  We  do  not, 
and  cannot  organize  ;  and  why  ?  Because 
the  clerk  of  this  liouse,  the  mere  clerk, 
whom  we  create,  whom  we  employ,  and 
whose  existence  depends  upon  our  will, 
usurps  the  throne,  and  sets  us,  the  repre- 
sentatives, the  vicegerents  of  the  whole 
American  people,  at  detiance,  and  holds  us 
in  conteinj)t !  And  what  is  this  clerk  of 
yours  ?  Is  he  to  control  the  destinies  of 
sixteen  millions  of  freemen  ?  Is  he  to 
suspend,  by  his  mere  negative,  the  func- 
tions of  government,  and  put  an  end  to 
this  congress?  He  refuses  to  call  the 
roll  !  It  is  in  your  power  to  compel  him 
to  call  it,  if  he  williiot  do  it  voluntarily." 

Here  he  was  interrupted  by  a  member, 
who  said  that  he  was  authorized  to  say 
that  compulsion  could  not  reach  the  clerk, 
who  had  avowed  that  he  would  resign, 
rather  than  call  the  state  of  New  Jersey. 

"  Well,  sir,"  continued  Mr.  Adams, 
^'  then  let  him  resign,  and  we  may  possibly 
discover  some  way  by  which  we  can  get 
along,  without  the  aid  of  his  all-powerful 
talent,  learning,  and  genius.  If  we  cannot 
organize  in  any  other  wa}' — if  this  clerk 
of  yours  will  not  consent  to  our  discharg- 
ing the  trusts  confided  to  us  by  our  con- 
stituents, then  let  us  imitate  the  example 
of  the  Virginia  House  of  Burgesses,  which, 
when  the  colonial  governor,  Dinwiddle, 
ordered  it  to  disperse,  refused  to  obey  the 
imperious  and  insulting  mandate,  and,  like 
men " 

The  multitude  could  not  contain  or 
repress  their  enthusiasm  any  longer,  but 
saluted  the  eloquent  and  indignant  speaker, 
and  intercepted  him  with  loud  and  deaf- 
ening cheers,  which  seemed  to  shake  the 
capitol  to  its  center.  The  very  Genii  of 
applause  and  enthusiasm  seemed  to  float 
in  the  atmosphere  of  the  hall,  and  every 
heart  expanded  with  indescribable  pride 
and  exultation.  The  turmoil,  the  dark- 
ness, the  very  chaos  of  anarchy,  which  had 
for  successive  days,  pervaded  the  American 
congi-ess,  was  dispelled  by  the  magic,  the 
talismanic  eloquence  of  a  single  man  ;  and, 


once  more,  the  wheels  of  government  and 
of  legislation  were  put  in  motion. 

Having,  by  this  powerful  a[)peal,  brought 
the  yet  unorganized  assembly  to  a  percep- 
tion of  its  real  position,  he  submitted  a 
motion  requiring  the  acting  clerk  to  pro- 
ceed in  calling  the  roll.  This  and  similar 
motions  had  already  been  made  b}-  other 
members.  The  difficulty,  indeed,  was  just 
this,  that  the  clerk  declined  to  entertain 
them.  Accordingly,  Mr.  Adams  was 
immediately  interrupted  by  a  burst  of 
voices  demanding,  "How  shall  the  ques- 
tion be  put  ?  "  "  Who  will  put  the  ques- 
tion ? "  The  voice  of  Mr.  Adams  was 
heard  above  all  the  tumult,  "/  intend  to 
pnt  the  question  myself!''  That  word 
brought  order  out  of  chaos.  There  was 
the  master  mind. 

As  soon  as  the  multitude  had  recovered 
itself,  and  the  excitement  of  long  and  loud 
resounding  plaudits  had  abated,  Mr. 
Richard  Barnwell  Rhett,  of  South  Caro- 
lina, leaped  upon  one  of  the  desks,  waved 
his  hand,  and  exclaimed  : 

"I  move  that  the  Honorable  John 
Quincy  Adams  take  the  chair  of  the 
speaker  of  this  house,  and  officiate  as  pre- 
siding officer,  till  the  house  be  organized 
by  the  election  of  its  constitutional  officers  ! 
As  many  as  are  agreed  to  this  will  say  ay ; 
those " 

He  had  not  an  opportunity  to  complete 
the  sentence,  "  those  who  are  not  agreed 
will  say  ?io," — for  one  universal,  deafen- 
ing, tremendous  ay,  responded  to  the 
nomination. 

Hereupon,  it  was  moved  and  ordered 
that  Hons.  Lewis  Williams,  of  North 
Carolina,  and  Richard  Barnwell  Rhett, 
conduct  John  Quincy  Adams  to  the  chair. 
And  well  did  Mr.  Wise,  of  Virginia,  say 
to  him  : 

"  Sir,  I  regard  it  as  the  proudest  hour 
of  your  life  ;  and  if,  when  you  shall  be 
gathered  to  your  fathers,  I  were  asked  to 
select  the  words  which,  in  my  judgment, 
are  best  calculated  to  give  at  once  the 
character  of  the  man,  I  would  inscribe 
upon  your  tomb  this  sentence  :  /  intend 
to  put  the  qziestion  myself." 


372 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Tlie  brave  old  man  lived  not  only  to 
see  the  odious  "gag  rule"  rescinded,  but  to 
listen  to  that  magnificent  speech  from  one 
of  his  colleagues,  Dr.  Palfrey,  on  the 
"  inalienable  rights  of  man,"  at  the  con- 
clusion of  which,  Mr.  Adams  characteris- 
tically exclaimed,  "God  be  praised;  the 
seals  are  broken  ;  the  door  is  open  !  " 

Dying  in  his  country's  capitol,  in  the 
midst  of  his  public  duties,  in  February, 
1848,  his  illustrious  career  shone  brightly 
to  the  end.  As  secretary  of  state  under 
Mr.  Monroe,  and   subsequently    as  presi- 


dent, his  cabinet  and  otlier  political  asso- 
ciates consisted  of  such  eminent  statesmen 
as  Crawford,  Shelby-,  Crownin  shield, 
Thompson,  Southard,  Meigs,  McLean. 
Rush,  Wirt,  Barbour,  Porter,  Van  Renssel- 
aer ;  nor  was  his  political  ability  hardlj'  less 
appreciated  by  those  master  leaders  in  the 
ranks  of  his  op}»onents.  A  whole  nation 
deplored  the  loss  and  united  in  rendering 
homage  to  the  memory  of  the  fearless 
"  champion  of  the  right  of  petition."  His 
successor  in  congress  was  Hon.  Horace 
Mann,  a  kindred  spirit. 


XLI. 

PASSAGE    OF    BENTON'S    FAMOUS    "EXPUNGING    RESO- 
LUTION,"  IN  THE   U.  S.  SENATE,  AFTER  A  THREE 
YEARS    PARLIAMENTARY   STRUGGLE.— 1837. 


Vindication  of  President  Jackson  A<jainst  tlie  Condemnatory  Sentence  Passed  by  that  Body  in  1834, 
for  liis  liemoval  of  tlie  Government  Deposites. — Strong  Black  Lines  are  Drawn  Around  Said  Sen- 
tence, by  the  Secretary,  in  tlie  Presence  of  the  Senate  and  of  a  Vast  and  'rumultuous  Crowd,  at  Mid- 
nijrlit — Opposition  to  tlie  Unued  States  Bank. — Jackson's  Message  Against  It. — Public  Opinion 
Divided — Con'iress  Grants  a  Charter. — Presidential  Velo  of  tbis  Bill —Jackson  Denounces  the 
Bank. — Declares  it  to  be  Corrupt —Orders  tlie  United  States  Funds  Removed.- Secretary  Duane 
Declines  to  Act. — Taney  Succeeds  Him  and  Obeys. — Fierce  Conflict  in  Congress. — Weeks  of  Stormy 
Debate. — Proposed  Censure  of  Jickson  — Unsolution  to  this  P'ffect  Passed  —Benton's  Motion  to 
Fxpunge.— He  Follows  it  up  Uiicea-inirly — Mis  Consummate  Tact. —  Approach  of  the  l)eci>ive 
Hour. — Kxcited  Crowds  Pour  In.— Triumph  of  the  Master  Spirit. — Execution  of  the  Hesolve. — 
Strange  and  Impressive  Scene. 


"  Vo  imwpr  on  earth— bo  help  rae  God  1— shall  control  the  key  to  the  Nation's  f^inds,  but  the  United  States  Government  itsel)."— Phesi- 
DB.M  Jacksos. 


jfc,  0  remarlc  concerning  the  celebrated  parlia- 
mentary feat  acconii)liylied  in  the  passage 
of  the  "Expunging  Resolution,"  by  the 
United  States  Senate,  could  more  appro- 
priately describe  the  chief  actor  in  that 
proceeding,  than  the  pregnant  sentence 
written  by  Senator  Benton's  l>iographer, 
namely,  that  as  an  exhibition  of  many 
especial  traits  of  that  senator's  character — 
persistency,  keen  and  sagacious  insight, 
stnbl)orn  devotion  to  the  fame  of  his  party 
chief,  unquailing  courage,  and  confidence  of 
success  against  any  and  all  odds, — ^no  act  of  his  life  was  more  striking.  As  is  very 
well  known,  the  mover  in  this  exciting  measure,  Senator  Benton,  naturally  made  him- 
self peculiarly  obnoxious  to  his  political  opponents,  but  he  finally  achieved  success, 
and  gained  a  great  personal  triumph.  The  motion  was,  to  strike  from  the  journals  of 
the  senate  a  resolution  of  censure  passed  upon  General  Jackson,  March  twenty-eighth, 
1834,  during  the  second  term  of  his  presidency,  and  the  passion  of  partisans  clothed 
the  contest  with  a  violence  which  shook  the  whole  country. 

The  history  of  this  remarkable  and  deeply  interesting  affair  runs  as  follows  :     In  his 
message  to  congress.  President  Jackson  expressed  an  opinion  against  renewing  the 


SAFE  PLACE  FOR  TnE  KEY  TO  THE  PUBLIC  FUNDS. 


C>i 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


charter  of  the  United  States  hank,  wliich 
would  expire  in  1836.  The  bank  had  not 
yet  formally  aj^plied  for  such  renewal,  but, 
being  thus  pressed  upon  the  attention  of 
congress,  it  was  referred  to  the  committee 
on  finance  in  both  houses  for  examina- 
tion ;  and  on  the  thirtieth  of  April,  1830, 
Mr.  McDuffie,  of  the  house,  made  a  report 
on  the  subject,  taking  ground  directly  at 
variance  with  the  views  of  the  president, 
arguing  that  Washington  sanctioned  and 
signed  its  original  charter,  that  it  had 
fultilled  the  ends  for  which  it  was  estab- 
lished, and  that  expediency  and  a  regard 
for  the  public  interest  would  dictate  its 
continuance.  The  report  in  the  senate 
concurred  with  these  sentiments.  Such 
was  the  effect  produced  by  these  reports, 
that  the  shares  of  the  bank,  which,  under 
the  effect  of  the  message,  had  greatly 
fallen  in  value,  soon  reached  the  very 
highest  figure. 

As  early  as  1832,  a  memorial  was  pre- 
sented to  congress  by  the  president  and 
directors  of  the  bank  for  a  renewal  of  its 
charter.  Soon  after,  a  committee  was  ap- 
pointed to  investigate  the  proceedings  of 
the  bank.  A  majority  of  this  committee 
reported  against  the  bank,  principally 
on  the  ground  of  a  violation  of  its  char- 
ter by  illegal  transactions ;  a  minority 
report,  however,  declared  that  the  affairs 
of  the  bank  had  been  administered  by  Mr. 
Biddle  and  the  directors,  with  very  great 
ability,  and  with  perfect  fidelity  to  every 
obligation  ;  and  that,  being  an  institution 
indispensable  to  the  preservation  of  a 
sound  currency,  and  to  the  financial  opera- 
tions of  the  government,  its  downfall 
would  be  a  great  national  calamity. 

On  the  tenth  of  June,  the  senate  passed 
a  bill,  by  eight  majority,  favoring  the 
bank,  and,  shortly  after,  the  house  con- 
curred by  a  majority  of  twenty-two.  This 
bill  was  vetoed  by  the  president,  who  de- 
clared it  unauthorized  by  the  constitution, 
subversive  of  the  rights  of  the  states,  and 
dangerous  to  the  liberties  of  the  people. 
This  veto,  though  not  unexpected  to  the 
country,  was  bitterly  denounced  from  one 
end  of  the  Union   to  the   other,  as  an  act 


pregnant  with  fearful  and  appalling  woes. 
Such,  too,  was  the  political  complexion  of 
congress,  at  this  period,  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  obtain  anything  like  the  two-thirds 
vote  requisite  to  pass  a  bill  over  the  presi- 
dential veto. 

The  conflict  of  opinion  in  regard  to  the 
bank, — an  institution  whose  existence  and 
operations  naturally  affected,  for  good  or 
ill,  every  branch  of  industry,  commerce, 
agriculture,  and  manufactures,  throughout 
the  country, — continued,  and  with  in- 
creased intensity.  All  kinds  of  business 
had,  by  means  of  the  vast  loans  so  freely 
obtained  from  the  bank,  in  larger  or 
smaller  sums,  by  speculators,  become 
greatly  inflated,  and  especiallj'^  was  this 
the  case  with  stocks.  Jackson,  viewing 
the  bank  as,  in  this  respect,  an  unhealthy 
corporation,  and  capable,  in  its  dispensa- 
tion of  favors,  of  being  a  danp;2r^LiS  polit- 
ical engine,  determined  to  cri^;icle  and 
crush  it,  and,  as  an  effectual  measure  to 
this  end,  he  planned  the  withdrawal  from 
the  bank,  of  those  funds  belonging  to  the 
government,  of  which  the  bank,  according 
to  its  charter,  was  the  legal  depositor3'. 
During  the  recess  of  congress,  namely,  on 
the  eighteenth  of  September,  1833,  the 
president  read  to  the  cabinet  a  document 
advocating  and  advising  a  speedy  removal 
of  the  public  treasure  deposited  with  the 
United  States  bank, — this  treasure  consti- 
tuting, as  was  well  understood,  the  basis 
of  the  bank's  credit  and  operations. 

In  the  document  read  by  the  president, 
on  this  occasion,  he  begged  the  cabinet 
to  consider  the  measure  as  his  oini,  and 
in  support  of  which  he  should  require  no 
one  of  them  to  make  a  sacrifice  of  opinion 
or  princi[)le.  Its  responsibility,  he  assured 
them,  had  been  assumed  by  him,  after  the 
most  mature  deliberation  and  reflection,  as 
necessary  to  preserve  the  morals  of  the 
people,  the  freedom  of  the  jjress,  and  the 
purity  of  the  elective  franchise.  Mr. 
Duane,  at  this  time  secretary  of  the 
treasury,  disapproved  of  the  proposed  re- 
moval of  the  deposites,  whereupon  he  was 
dismissed  from  that  position,  and  his  place 
supplied  b}'  Roger  B.  Taney,  who  at  once 


GREAT  AND  ]\rK:\r()IlARLE  EVENTS. 


375 


executed  the  presidential  order.  Tlio 
president  emphaticall}'  declared  :  "No 
power  on  eartli — so  lu-Ij}  ))ie  God! — shall 
control  the  key  to  the  nation's  funds, 
but  the  United  States  government  itself  I  " 

Mr.  Clay's  indignant,  burning  eloquence, 
denunciatory  of  the  acts  of  the  executive, 
knew  no  bounds,  and  he  concluded  by 
offering  resolutions  of  censure  against  the 
president,  whic/i,  after  a  most  storm?/  de- 
hate,  passed  the  senate,  in  a  slightly  altered 
form,  on  the  tiventi/-eighth  of  3farch,lS3l, 
namely:  "That  the  president,  in  the  late 
executive  proceedings  in  relation  to  the 
revenue,  has  assumed  upon  himself  au- 
thority and  power  not  conferred  by  the 
constitution  and  laws,  but  in  derogation  of 
both  "  Against  this  resolution,  President 
Jackson  sent  in  a  long  and  severe  protest. 
To  this  the  senate  responded,  by  resolu- 
tions declaring  that  the  protest  was  a 
breach  of  the  privileges  of  the  senate,  and 
that  it  should  not  be  entered  upon  the 
journal.  The  house  of  representatives, 
however,  sustained  the  president,  in  his 
opposition  to  the  bank,  and  the  removal 
of  the  deposites.  Memorials  and  peti- 
tions, for  or  against  the  measures  of  the 
president,  flowed  in  from  all  quarters.  It 
was  considered  as  momentous  an  issue  as 
had  ever  agitated  the  land. 

The  president's  wrath  was  unmeasured, 
that  the  resolutions  of  censure,  in  sub- 
stance declaring  him  guilty  of  an  impeach- 
able offense,  should  thus  be  spread  upon 
the  legislative  journal.  Mr.  Benton,  the 
most  powerful  friend  of  the  president, 
lost  no  time  in  giving  notice  of  his  inten- 
tion to  move  a  strong  measure  in  behalf 
of  the  president,  namely,  an  Expunging 
Resolution  against  the  sentence  of  cen- 
sure passed  and  recorded  by  the  senate, 
committing  himself  irrevocably  to  the 
prosecution  of  the  resolution,  until  he 
should  succeed  in  the  effort,  or  terminate 
his  political  life. 

In  support  of  the  president's  course,  and 
of  Mr.  Benton's  proposed  method  of  vin- 
dication, various  public  proceedings  were 
had  in  different  sections  of  the  country, 
and   some   of    the    state   legislatures    not 


only  voted  in  favor  of  the  removal  of  the 
record  of  censure,  but  instructed  their  con- 
gressional delegations  to  use  their  influence 
antl  votes  in  a  similar  direction. 

Mr.  Benton's  resolutions  rehearsed  the 
principal  points  involved  in  the  past  his- 
tory and  i)resent  as[)ects  of  the  contro- 
vcrs}',  quite  at  length,  the  closing  resolu- 
tion being  as  follows:  "That  the  said 
resolve  be  expunged  from  the  journal; 
and,  for  that  pur})Ose,  that  the  secretary 
of  the  senate,  at  such  time  as  the  senate 
may  appoint,  shall  bring  the  manuscript 
journal  of  the  session  1833-34  into  the 
senate,  and,  in  the  presence  of  the  senate, 
draw  black  lines  round  the  said  resolve, 
and  write  across  the  face  thereof ,  in  strong 
letters,  the  following  words  :    '  Expunged 


by  order  of   the  senate,  this day  of 

,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord .'" 

For  three  years,  successively,  did  Mr. 
Benton  bring  forward,  on  different  oc- 
casions, his  celebrated  motion,  and  again 
and  again  he  suffered  defeat,  after  the 
most  violent  and  scathing  debates  that 
ever  took  place  in  an}'  parliamentary  body, 
the  senate  at  this  time  containing  an 
unusual  amount  of  oratorical  talent  and 
forensic  power. 

But  the  last  scene — and  with  it  victory 
to  the  great  Missourian  and  his  presiden- 
tial master, — was  now  near  at  hand  ;  and 


o/ 


G 


OUK  Fir.ST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


this  scene,  as  described,  mainl}',  by  Mr. 
Benton  liimself,  was  as  follows  :  Saturday, 
the  fourteenth  of  January,  the  democratic 
senators  agreed  to  liave  a  meeting,  and  to 
take  their  iinal  measures  for  passing  the 
expunging  resolution.  Tliey  knew  they 
liad  llie  numbers;  but  they  also  knew 
tlic^-  had  adversaries  to  grapple  with  to 
w'.iom  might  be  applied  tlie  i)roud  motto 
of  Louis  the  Fourteenth:  "Not  an  un- 
equal match  for  numbers."  They  also 
knew  that  members  of  the  party  were  in 
the  process  of  separating  from  it,  and 
would  require  conciliating.  They  met  in 
the  night  at  the  then  famotis  restaurant  of 
Boulanger,  giving  to  the  assemblage  the 
air  of  a  convivial  entertainment.  It  con- 
tinued till  midnight,  and  required  all  the 
moderation,  tact  and  skill  of  the  prime 
movers  to  obtain  and  maintain  the  union 
u[»on  details,  on  the  success  of  which  the 
fate  of  the  measure  depended.  The  men 
of  conciliation  were  to  be  the  efficient  men 
of  that  night  ;  and  all  the  winning  re- 
sources of  Wright,  Allen  of  Ohio,  and 
Linn  of  Missouri,  were  put  into  reqtiisi- 
tioii.  Tliere  were  serious  differences  upon 
the  mode  of  expurgation,  while  agreed 
iilioii  tlie  thing;  and  finally  obliteration, 
the  favorite  of  the  mover,  was  given  up, 
and  tlie  mode  of  expurgation  adopted 
wliirh  had  been  proposed  in  the  resolu- 
tions of  the  general  assembly  of  Virginia, 
namel}',  to  inclose  the  obnoxious  sentence 
in  a  square  of  black  lines- — an  oblong 
square  :  a  compromise  of  opinions  to  which 
the  mover  agreed  upon  condition  of  being 
allowed  to  compose  the  epitaph — "  Ex- 
■piiu(j('(l  hji  the  order  of  the  Seiiufe."  The 
agreement  which  was  to  lead  to  victory 
was  then  adopted,  each  one  severally 
pledging  himself  to  it,  that  there  should 
should  be  no  adjournment  of  the  senate 
after  the  resolution  was  called  until  it 
was  passed ;  and  that  it  should  be  called 
immediately  after  the  morning  business 
on  tlie  Monday  ensuing.  Expecting  a 
protracted  session,  extending  through  the 
day  and  night,  and  knowing  the  difficulty 
of  keeping  men  steady  to  their  work  and 
in  good  humor,  when   tired  and    hungry, 


the  mover  of  the  proceeding  took  care  to 
provide,  as  far  as  possible,  against  such  a 
state  of  things;  and  gave  orders  that 
night  to  have  an  ample  supply  of  cold 
hams,  turkey's,  rounds  of  l)eef,  jiickles, 
wines,  and  cups  of  hot  coffee,  ready  in  a 
certain  committee  room  near  the  senate 
chamber  by  four  o'clock  on  the  afternoon 
of  Monday. 

The  motion  to  take  up  the  subject  was 
made  at  the  appointed  time,  and  imme- 
diately a  debate  of  long  speeches,  chiefly 
on  the  other  side,  opened  itself  ujion  the 
question. 

As  the  darkness  of  approaching  night 
came  on,  and  the  great  chandelier  was  lit 
up,  splendidly  illuminating  the  chamber, 
then  crowded  with  the  members  of  the 
house,  and  the  lobbies  and  galleries  tilled 
to  their  utmost  capacity  with  visitors  and 
spectators,  the  scene  became  grand  and 
impressive.  A  few  spoke  on  the  side  of 
the  resolution — chief! 3'  Rives,  Buchanan, 
Niles — and,  with  an  air  of  ease  and  satisfac- 
tion that  bespoke  a  quiet  determination, 
and  a  consciousness  of  victory.  The  com- 
mittee room  was  resorted  to  in  parties  of 
four  and  six  at  a  time,  always  leaving 
enough  on  watch  ;  and  not  resorted  to  by 
one  side  alone.  The  opposition  were  in- 
vited to  a  full  participation — an  invitation 
of  which  those  who  were  able  to  nniintain 
their  good  temper  readily  availed  them- 
selves; but  the  greater  part  were  not  in  a 
humor  to  eat  anything — especially  at  such 
a  feast. 

The   night  was  wearing  away  ;  the  ex- 


pu 


nerers  were  in  full  force — masters  of  the 


chamber — hai>py — and  vis'bly  determined 
to  remain.  It  became  evident  to  the 
great  opposition  leaders,  tliat  the  inevit- 
able hour  liad  come  ;  that  the  'damnahle 
deed'  was  to  be  done  that  night;  and  that 
the  dignity  of  silence  was  no  longer  to 
them  a  tenable  position.  The  battle  was 
going  against  them,  and  they  must  go  into 
it,  without  being  able  to  re-establish  it. 
In  the  beginning,  they  had  not  considered 
the  expunging  movement  a  serious  pro- 
ceeding; as  it  advanced,  they  still  ex- 
pected it  to  miscarry  on  some  point ;  now, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


the  reality  of  the  thing  stood  before  tlieni, 
confronting  tlieir  presence,  and  refusing 
to  "down"  at  any  command. 

Mr.  Callionn  opposed  the  measure,  in  a 
speech  of  great  severity.  Tlie  day  (said 
lie)  is  gone  ;  night  approaclies,  and  niglit 
is  suitahle  to  the  dark  deed  we  meditate  ; 
there  is  a  sort  of  destiny  in  this  thing; 
the  act  must  be  performed,  and  it  is  an 
act  It'll irJi  irill  tell  upon  the  jiollticul  his- 
tovji  of  this  roil  lit  ri/  fnrccer. 

'Mr.  Chiy  indulged  in  unmeasured  de- 
nunciation of  the  whole  thing. 

The  last  speech  in  opposition  to  the 
measure  was  made  by  INIr.  Webster,  who 
employed  the  strongest  language  he  could 


was  there.  Expectation,  and  determina- 
tion to  see  the  conclusion,  were  depicted 
u[)on  every  countenance.  It  was  evident 
there  was  to  be  no  adjournment  until  the 
vote  should  be  taken — until  the  deed  was 
done;  and  this  aspect  of  invincible  deter- 
mination had  its  effect  upon  the  ranks  of 
the  opposition.  They  began  to  falter 
under  a  useless  persistence,  for  they  alone 
now  did  the  speaking;  and  while  Mr. 
Webster  was  yet  reciting  his  protest,  two 
senators  from  the  opposition  side,  who  had 
been  best  able  to  maintain  their  equanim- 
ity, came  round  to  the  mover  of  the 
resolution,  and  said:  'This  question  has 
degenerated   into    a    trial    of    nerves   and 


<7 


FAC-.-'lJlILE  COl'V   UF  THK 

command,  condemnatory  of  an  act,  which, 
he  declared,  was  so  unconstitutional,  so 
derof/utort/  to  the  rh'irartev  of  the  senate, 
and  marked  with  so  broad  an  impression  of 
compliance  with  power. 

But,  though  thus  pronounced  an  irregu- 
lar, and  unconstitutional  proceeding,  by 
Mr.  Webster  and  the  other  senators  with 
whom  he  sided  and  voted,  Mr.  John 
Quincy  Adams,  who  was  at  the  time  a 
member  of  the  house,  and  in  direct  antag- 
onism, politically,  to  Mr.  Benton  and  to  the 
Jackson  administration,  held  a  different 
opinion. 

Midnight  (says  Mr.  Benton,  in  con- 
tinuing his  account,)  was  now  approach- 
ing. The  dense  masses  which  filled  every 
inch  of  room  in  the  lobbies  and  the  gal- 
leries, remained  immovable.  No  one 
went  out ;  no  one  could  get  in.  The  floor 
of  the  senate  was  crammed  with  privileged 
persons,  and  it  seemed  that  all  congress 


EXPL'NGING   RESOLUTION. 

muscles.  It  has  become  a  question  of 
i:)hysical  endurance  ;  and  we  see  no  use  in 
wearing  ourselves  out  to  keep  off  for  a  few 
hours  longer  what  has  to  come  before  we 
separate.  We  see  that  you  are  able  and 
determined  to  carry  j'our  measure — so, 
call  the  vote  as  soon  as  yon  please.  We 
shall  say  no  more.  Mr.  Webster  con- 
cluded. No  one  rose.  There  was  a  pause, 
a  dead  silence,  and  an  intense  feeling. 
Presently  the  silence  was  invaded  by  the 
single  word,  "question" — the  parliament- 
ary call  for  a  vote — rising  from  the  seats 
of  different  senators.  One  blank  in  the  re- 
solve remained  to  be  filled — the  date  of  its 
adoption.  It  was  done.  The  acting  presi- 
dent of  the  senate,  Mr.  King,  of  Alabama, 
then  directed  the  roll  to  be  called.  The 
yeas  and  nays  had  been  previously  ordered, 
and  proceeded  to  be  called  by  the  secretary 
of  the  senate,  the  result  showing  a  majority 
of  five  on  the  side  of  the  expungers. 


378 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


The  passage  of  the  resolution  was  an- 
nounced from  tlie  cliair.  Mr.  Benton  rose, 
and  said  that  nothing  now  remained  but 
to  execute  the  order  of  the  senate,  which  he 
moved  be  done  forthwith.  It  was  ordered 
accordingly.  The  secretary  thereupon  pro- 
duced the  original  manuscript  journal  of 
the  senate,  and  opening  at  the  page  which 
contained  the  condemnatory  sentence  of 
March  twenty-eighth,  1834,  proceeded  in 
open  senate  to  draw  a  square  of  broad 
black  lines  around  the  sentence,  and  to 
write  across  its  face  in  strong  letters 
these  words  : 

"Expunged  by  order  of  the  sex- 
ate,  THIS  16th  day  of  March,  1837." 

Up  to  this  moment,  the  crowd  in  the 
great  circular  gallery,  looking  down  upon 
the  senate,  though  sullen  and  menacing  in 
their  looks,  had  made  no  manifestation  of 
feeling.  Things  were  in  this  state  when 
the  secretary  of  the   senate  began  to  per- 


form the  expunging  process.  Instantly 
a  storm  of  hisses,  groans,  and  vociferations 
arose  from  the  left  wing  of  the  gallery, 
over  the  head  of  Mr.  Benton.  Anticipat- 
ing the  possibility  of  violence,  some  of  the 
senator's  friends  had  gone  out  and  brought 
arms  into  the  hall.  No  use,  however,  was 
made  of  them,  the  mob  being  intimidated 
b}'  one  of  the  ringleaders  being  seized  by 
the  sergeant-at-arms  and  brought  to  the 
bar  of  the  senate ;  and  the  expunging 
process  was  performed  in  quiet.  The 
gratification  of  General  Jackson  was  ex- 
treme. He  gave  a  grand  dinner  to  the 
expungers  and  their  wives ;  being,  how- 
ever, too  weak  to  sit  at  the  table,  he  only 
met  the  company,  placed  the  '  head  ex- 
punger '  in  the  chaii\  and  withdrew  to  his 
sick  chamber.  That  expurgation  (re- 
marks Mr.  Benton,)  was  the  crowning 
glory  of  Jackson's  civil,  as  New  Orleans 
had  been  of  his  military,  life. 


XLII. 

MAGi^IFICENT    AUEORA    BOREALIS    ENCOMPASSING 
THE    WHOLE    FIRMAMENT    TO    ITS    FARTHEST 

BOUNDS.— 1837. 


A  Vast  Canopy  of  Gorgeous  Crimson  Flames  Encircles  the  Earth  — Arches  of  Resplendent  Auroral 
Glories  Span  tiie  Heniispliere — Innumerable  Scarlet  Columns  of  Dazzling  Beauty  Rise  from  the 
Horizon  to  the  Zenith  — Tiie  Face  of  Nature  Everywhere  Appears,  to  an  Astonislied  World,  as  if 
Dyed  in  Blood — Unjommon  Extent  and  Sublimity — Remarkable  Duration  and  Aspects — Intensely 
Luminous  Character. — Universal  Outburst  of  Luster. — Preceded  by  a  Fall  of  Snow. — First  Signs  of 
the  Phenomenon. — Exquisite  Rosy  Illumination  — Tiie  Snow  Appears  Deep  Red. — A  Fiery  Vermil- 
ion Tinge  to  Nature  — Alarm  Produced  by  the  Scene. — Great  Moving  Pillar  of  Light. — Vivid  Stream- 
ers in  All  Directions, — Pure  White  and  Brilliant  Colors. — Contrast  of  the  Glowing  Tints. — Wide 
Fields  of  Rainbow  Hues. — Radiant  Beauty  Heaven-Wide  — Superlative  Pageant  of  Splendor. — Perfec- 
tion of  the  Stellar  Form. — Millions  of  Wondering  Observers. — Visible  Nearly  the  Whole  Night. — 
Accounts  from  Different  Points. — Europe's  Share  in  the  Display. 


•  Depth,  height,  breadth, 


Are  loBt  in  their  extremeB:  and  where  to  count 
The  thicli  sown  glories  in  these  fields  of  fire, 
Perhaps  a  seraph's  computation  tails." 


"EARS  of  observation,  covering  many  cen- 
turies, and  embracing  all  zones  and  lati- 
tudes, give  no  record  of  any  display  of 
auroral  glories  equal,  in  sublimit}^,  mag- 
nificence, and  extent,  to  the  aurora  borealis  of 
November  fourteenth,  1837.  Of  the  various 
accounts  of  this  phenomenon,  as  furnished  by 
observers  in  different  parts  of  the  land,  the  fol- 
lowing Avill  suffice  to  show  its  marvelous  beauty 
sixGULAR  FORM  OF  AURORAL  ARCH.  aud  graudcur, — rcmarlvable  for  its  amplitude,  its 
duration,  its  intense  luminosity,  and  the  brilliancy  of  its  colors.  Scientific  observations 
of  the  phenomenon  were  made  by  Professors  Barnard,  Herrick,  Twining,  Joslin,  Silli- 
man,  Gibbs,  Henry,  Dewey,  Redfield,  and  others,  and  these  were  republished  in  all 
parts  of  Europe,  attracting  universal  attention. 

The  city  of  New  Haven  had  been  visited,  during  the  day  of  the  fourteenth,  with  a 
moderate  storm  of  snow,  which  began  to  subside  between  the  hours  of  five  and  six  in 
the  evening.  The  heavens  continued,  however,  to  be  more  or  less  obscured  by  clouds 
during  the  entire  evening;  on  which  account,  the  splendors  of  the  aurora,  as  they  man- 
ifested themselves  to  observers  more  favorably  situated,  were  here  in  a  great  degree 
concealed.  The  veil  of  snow-clouds,  which,  at  sunset,  and  for  some  time  afterward, 
covered  the  sky,  was  nevertheless  exceedingly  thin;  and  it  was  through  this,  and  even 


380 


OUR  FIEST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


through  the  falling  snow  itself,  that  the 
first  visible  indications  of  the  presence  of 
an  aurora  were  discovered.  Though  the 
exact  time  at  which  the  jihenomenon  com- 
menced could  not  be  known,  it  had  doubt- 
less been  in  progress  for  a  while,  before  the 
intensity  of  the  light  became  sufficient  to 
penetrate  the  screen.  The  first  evidence 
of  its  existence  consisted  in  a  strong  rosy 
illumination  of  the  entire  arch  of  the 
heavens. 

Of  this  appearance,  Professor  Olmstead, 
then  ot  New  Haven,  says  :  The  snow, 
which  at  sunset  hail  covered  the  earth  and 
all  things  near  it,  with  a  mantle  of  the 
purest  wliite,  closed,  early  in  the  evening, 
with  a  most  curious  and  beautiful  pageant. 
About  six  o'clock,  while  the  sky  was  yet 
thick  with  falling  snow,  all  things  sud- 
denbj  appeared  as  if  dijed  in  blond.  The 
entire  atmosphere,  the  surface  of  the  earth, 
the  trees,  the  tops  of  the  houses,  and,  m 
short,  the  whole  face  of  nature,  were 
tinged  with  the  same  scarlet  hue.  The 
alarm  of  fire  was  given,  and  the  vigilant 
firemen  were  seen  parading  the  streets  in 
iheir  ghostly  uniform,  which,  assuming  the 
general  tint,  seemed  in  singular  keeping 
with  the  phenomenon.  The  light  was 
most  intense  in  the  north-west  and  north- 
east. At  short  intervals  it  alternately 
increased  and  diminished  in  brightness, 
until,  at  half-past  six,  only  a  slight  tinge 
of  red  remained  on  the  sky.  On  account 
of  the  light  being  thus  transmitted  through 
the  snowy  medium  and  a  thin  veil  of  clouds, 
the  aurora  horealis  was  diffused  like  the 
liffht  of  an  astral  lamp,  covered  with  a 
red  shade  fif  ground  glass.  That  the 
stratum  of  clouds  was  very  thin,  was 
inferred  from  the  fact,  that,  before  half- 
past  six,  a  few  scars  were  discernible  as 
when  seen  through  a  fog ;  and  such  was 
the  appearance  of  the  moon,  which  rose 
about  the  same  time.  Within  ten  minutes 
from  the  time  the  heavens  began  to  assume 
their  fiery  appearance,  the  whole  clouded 
hemisphere  shone  with  that  marvelously 
brilliant  light,  which,  reflected  in  rosy 
tints  by  the  snow  on  the  ground,  produced 
a  scene  indescribably  gorgeous.     To  some 


observers,  the  auroral  flush  seemed  to  over- 
spread all  parts  of  the  sky  almost  simul- 
taneously. 

East  of  New  Haven,  the  storm  was  more 
protracted.  At  New  London,  the  snow 
was  falling  copiously,  and  continued  so, 
unabatedly,  during  the  Avhole  evening. 
But,  notwithstanding  the  storm,  the  heav- 
ens seemed  as  if  they  were  on  fire, — a 
lurid  light  on  all  sides,  from  the  zenith  to 
the  horizon,  casting  a  most  vulcanean  hue 
on  the  fallen  snow.  The  light  seemed  the 
same  in  every  portion  of  the  firmament, 
but  without  any  apparent  cause. 

In  the  city  of  New  York,  the  displa)-, 
as  witnessed  from  an  eminence  which  com- 
manded an  unobstructed  view  of  the  hori- 
zon in  every  direction,  was,  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  evening,  magnificent  beyond 
description.  At  about  a  quarter  before 
six,  the  attention  of  observers  was  at- 
tracted by  a  most  unusual  a])pearance  of 
the  heavens.  The  sky  was  wholly  over- 
cast, as  in  New  Haven,  at  the  same  hour; 
though  the  cloud  was  not  sufficiently 
dense,  absolutely  to  ol)scure  all  the  stars, 
of  which  quite  a  number  were  seen  from 
time  to  time,  faintly  glimmering  through. 
At  the  time  of  the  first  observation,  the 
whole  heaven  was  suffused  with  a  lovely 
carnation,  brightest,  apparently,  at  the 
commencement  in  the  zenith,  but  soon 
afterward  rather  toward  the  north-east. 
This  tint,  reflected  on  the  snow,  clothed 
all  nature  with  a  red-tinted  garniture,  of 
supernal  beauty.  It  gradually  faded, 
though  at  the  end  of  an  hour  it  was  still 
slightly  perceptible.  The  sky  theu  rap- 
idly cleared,  and  all  traces  of  the  aurora 
passed  away. 

Rut  at  about  half-past  seven,  the  north 
and  east  being  still  overcast,  and  some 
stratified  clouds  extending  themselves 
along  the  horizon  around  toward  the  west, 
a  brightness  began  to  appear  in  the  north- 
west, which,  in  a  very  short  time,  extended 
itself  upward  forty-five  degrees,  in  a  col- 
umn of  diffused  light,  quite  broad  at  the 
base,  and  tapering  to  a  point.  This  col- 
umn moved  very  slowly  southward,  and  at 
length  became  divided  into  two  of  similar 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


381 


MAGMFICENT  AURORA.  BOREALIS  OF  NOVEMKER   13  AND   14,  1837. 


character.       But  in  the  meantime,  in  all 
the  north,  and  especially  in  the  north-west, 
numerous  streamers  began  to  make  their 
appearance.     They  became  faintly  red  at 
the  height  of  about  thirty  degrees,  and  the 
redness  of  the  whole  blended  itself  into  one 
general  cloud,  while  the  columns  continued 
distinct  and  white  below.      The  changes 
were  rapid,  but  the    red  tint  covered  the 
heavens    nearly   to  the  zenith  for  a  long 
time.       The    moon,    emerging    from    the 
clouds,    a    little    before    eight,    detracted 
from  the  brightness  of  the  display.     The 
whole  subsided,  or  nearly  so,  shortly  after 
eight,  and  observations  were  discontinued. 
A   few    minutes    before  nine,   however, 
the  community  was  summoned  to  witness 
a  new  exhibition  of  auroral  wonders,  the 
lustrous  grandeur  of  which  no  tongue  could 
tell,  nor  pen  portray.      The  heavens  were 
at  this   time   wholly   unclouded,  with  the 
exception  of  a  single  very  small  and  faint 
cirrus  high  in  the  north-west.     Innumer- 
able bright  arches  shot  up  from  the  whole 
northern   semi-circle   of  the   horizon,  and 
from  even  farther  south,  all  converging  to 
the    zenith    with    great    rapidity.      Their 
upper  extremities  were  of  the  most  bril- 


liant scarlet,  while  below  they  were  ex- 
ceedingly white.  At  the  formation  of  the 
corona,  the  appearance  of  the  columns 
below,  which  were  very  numerous  and 
bright,  resembled  that  of  bright  cotton  of 
long  fiber,  drawn  out  at  full  length.  The 
intermingled  hues  afforded  each  other  a 
mutual  strong  relief,  and  exhibited  the 
most  dazzling  contrasts  ever  beheld.  The 
stellar  form  was  wonderfully  perfect  and 
regular.  Toward  the  west,  there  was  a 
sector  of  more  than  twenty  degrees  of 
unmingled  scarlet,  superlatively  beautiful. 

The  duration  of  this  display  was  quite 
remarkable.  For  three-quarters  of  an 
hour  after  its  formation,  which  took  |)lace 
about  nine  o'clock,  the  corona  continued, 
with  variable  brightness,  to  maintain  its 
position  a  little  to  the  south  of  the  zenith. 
At  about  half-past  nine,  the  northern  col- 
umns had  become  disconnected  from  it, 
and  had  subsided  very  low,  the  heavens 
being  clear  between.  But  long  before  this, 
and,  indeed,  within  a  few  minutes  after 
nine,  the  south  was  as  completely  filled 
with  corresponding  columns  as  the  north. 

For  a  time,  therefore,  the  earth  was 
completely  overarched  by  a  perfect  canopy 


382 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


of  glory!  The  southern  columns,  which 
seemed  to  proceed  downward  from  the 
corona,  rested  on  an  arch  of  diffused  light, 
extending  in  a  great  circle  from  east  to 
west,  or  nearly  so,  and  being  about  twenty 
degrees,  or  a  little  more,  above  the  hori- 
zon, in  the  center.  All  below  tlie  arch 
was  of  the  strange  darkness  so  usual  at 
such  times  in  the  nortli.  The  southern 
columns  were  at  no  time  so  bright  as  the 
nortliern,  but  they  maintained  their  posi- 
tion, after  these  last  had  retired, — extend- 
ing still  from  the  corona  to  the  arch  which 
formed  their  base.  The  appearance  was 
at  tliis  time  that  of  an  aurora  australis, 
and  this  continued  for  more  than  a  quarter 
of  an  hour.  Streamers,  for  a  while,  con- 
tinued to  shoot  up  irregularly  in  the  north, 
but  tliey  did  not  again  reach  the  zenith. 
By  half-past  ten,  all  evidence  of  the  phe- 
nomenon disappeared  from  the  heavens, 
and  the  hosts  of  charmed  observers  reluc- 
tantly abandoned  their  watch. 

In  the  western  part  of  New  York  state, 
the  exhibition  was  most  superb,  as  seen 
and  described  at  various  points  of  observa- 
tion. In  Buffalo  and  neighborhood,  the 
aurora  was  perceived  at  its  first  approach. 
At  about  quarter-past  five  o'clock,  the 
heavens  being  clear  in  the  north  and  for 
fifty  degrees  both  east  and  west  of  that 
point,  an  unusual  ruddy  appearance  was 
noticed.  This  soon  faded,  leaving  barely 
a  perceptible  tinge ;  and  instantly,  when 
nearly  all  color  had  disappeared  elsewhere, 
a  space  of  some  fifteen  degrees  in  diame- 
ter, immediately  west  of  Cassiopeia  and 
Andromeda,  and  north  of  Pegasus,  was 
lighted  up  with  rod,  of  a  particularly  deep 
hue.  This  was  entirely  disconnected,  on 
every  side,  from  any  auroral  light  or 
appearance  whatever,  and,  from  its  center, 
pencils  of  white  radiated  to  the  periphery 
oji  every  side. 

After  this  appearance  had  continued 
some  five  minutes,  the  white  lines  disap- 
peared, ami  till'  whole  space  in  question 
assumed  a  uniform  red  color,  which  was 
almost  instantly  thereafter  extended,  in 
an  arch  of  the  same  width,  through  the 
zenith,  and    down   to    the    horizon    about 


sixty  degrees  west  of  north.  On  the  east, 
this  light  did  not  extend  itself;  and, 
during  the  whole  time,  the  clear  sjjace 
existing  in  the  north  retained  its  usual 
color  and  appearance.  Deep  red  streams, 
penciled  with  white,  then  began  to  a])pear 
and  fade  in  the  north,  but  w^ithout  the 
tremulous  motion  of  'merry  dancers.' 
Those  in  the  north-east  maintained  their 
brightness  longest. 

At  about  fifteen  minutes  before  six 
o'clock,  the  clouds  had  become  more  dense 
and  dark,  though  still  in  detached  masses, 
particularly  throughout  that  portion  of  the 
heavens  which  had  been  occuj^ied  by  the 
red  arch  above  mentioned,  and  these 
isolated  clouds  now  assumed  an  appearance 
at  once  novel  and  striking.  Those  west 
of  the  zenith,  and  lying  within  the  track 
of  the  crimson  arch  alreadj^  described, 
suddenly  exhibited  the  most  vivid  red 
along  their  entire  southern  borders  ;  while 
the  like  clouds  east  of  the  zenith,  and  fol- 
lowing the  same  track,  and  prolonging  it 
quite  down  to  the  eastern  horizon,  assumed 
the  same  vivid  color  upon  their  northern 
borders ;  no  other  portion,  however,  of 
these  clouds,  exliibited  any  of  the  charac- 
teristics of  auroral  light.  South  of  this 
line,  there  was  at  no  time  any  auroral 
light  whatever;  and  at  the  moment  in 
question,  there  was  very  little  in  any  other 
j)arts  of  the  heavens,  save  on  the  borders 
of  these  clouds.  At  nine  minutes  before 
six,  the  red  edgings  of  these  clouds  began 
to  fade,  and  immediately  a  wide  space  in 
the  north-east,  that  was  still  free  from 
clouds,  was  most  brilliantly  lighted  up. 
The  color  was  of  the  same  deep  red,  but  it 
did  not  extend  down  to  the  horizon ;  and 
this  had  scai'cely  continued  four  minutes, 
when  the  whole  region  north  of  the  zenith, 
to  within  about  eight  degrees  of  the  hori- 
zon, was  again  reddened  and  glowing — 
while,  be3'ond  these  limits,  either  north  or 
south,  no  vestige  of  the  aurora  was  visible. 
Just  two  minutes  before  six,  the  moon 
appeared  above  the  horizon,  and  as  it  was 
only  two  days  past  the  full,  its  beams  soon 
surj)assed  in  brightness  those  of  the 
aurora. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


383 


In  Hudson,  Oliin,  ;it  the  AVestcrn 
Reserve  College,  soiiu'  of  tlio  earlier  dis- 
plays of  the  phenonu'non  were  noticed  by 
Professor  Loomis.  This  was  some  five 
minutes  after  six,  when  he  observed  that 
a  small  pile  of  light,  of  a  reddish  hue,  lay 
upon  the  horizon,  in  a  direction  a  little 
north  of  north-west,  and  a  similar  pile  in 
the  east  of  north-east.  Between  these 
there  was  a  low  faint  cloud,  bounded  by  a 
somewhat  ill-defined  arch,  rising  in  its 
center  about  ten  degrees  from  the  horizon. 
Above  this  arch,  a  diffused  light  streamed 
upward  toward  the  zenith,  in  one  or  two 
places,  being  somewhat  more  condensed, 
forming  beams.  This  light  increased 
rapidly  in  brightness  ;  it  became  of  a  more 
decided  crimson  color,  extended  up  to  the 
zenith,  and,  at  the  same  time,  light  began 
to  shoot  up  from  several  points  in  the  east, 
and  some>vhat  south  of  east.  At  a  quarter- 
past  six,  meantime,  a  pretty  regular  arch 
was  formed,  extending  from  the  above- 
mentioned  pile  of  light  in  the  north-west. 
This  arch  was  rather  irregular  in  its  out- 
line, and  had  a  slightly  crimson  color.  In 
about  five  minutes,  another  arch  of  white 
light  partially  formed  in  the  southern  sky, 
and  had  nearly  the  same  direction  with 
the  preceding ;  but  this  arch  was  never 
complete,  and  soon  vanished  entirely.  The 
great  arch,  however,  before  described, 
brightened  up  again  in  very  nearly  the 
same  position  as  previously.  About  half- 
past  eight,  light  of  a  crimson  color  was 
observed  to  shoot  from  the  eastern  horizon 
toward  and  beyond  the  zenith,  nearly  in 
the  position  of  the  former  arch.  The 
heavens  were  now  nearly  covered  with  thin 
cirro-cumulus  clouds,  and  the  contrast  of 
the  ordinary  clouds  with  this  crimson 
auroral  light,  produced  a  very  singular 
effect.  The  sky  remained  cloudy  during 
the  night. 

Strange  though  it  may  appear,  this 
beautiful  and  magnificent  phenomenon 
was  visible  during  nearly  the  whole  night 
in  the  neighborhood  of  St.  Louis,  Mo., 
and  was  particularly  brilliant  between  the 
hours  of  twelve  and  one,  when  the  moon 
was  near  its  zenith.     Time   in   St.   Louis 


being  rather  more  than  one  hour  earlier 
than  in  New  York,  this  midnight  display 
was  contemporaneous  with  the  latest 
return  of  the  aurora  in  the  longitude  of 
New  York  ;  but  this,  which  was  the  least 
energetic  in  the  latter,  appears  there  to 
have  been  the  most  remarkable. 

The  commencement  of  the  phenomenon 
in  Philadelphia  was  similar  to  that  ob- 
served at  New  York.  At  a  later  period, 
the  lights  were  again  visible,  and,  between 
nine  and  ten  o'clock,  exceeded  in  extent 
and  brilliancy,  anything  of  the  kind  ever 
before  witnessed  in  that  region.  A  broad 
field  of  crimson  fiame,  stretching  from 
nearly  a  western  course,  and  reaching  the 
eastern  hemisphere,  encompassed  the 
heavens  with  a  brilliant  glory,  of  indescrib- 
able beauty  and  magnificence,  hanging, 
as  it  were,  suspended  from  the  blue  vault 
above,  like  an  immense  curtain  over  the 
earth — while,  from  almost  every  point  of 
the  compass,  shot  up  rays  of  rich  and  gor- 
geous light,  spreading  and  intermingling 
with  a  wavy  tremulous  motion,  and  exhib- 
iting every  hue  of  the  clearest  rainbow. 
The  richness,  variety,  and  delicacy  of  the 
colors,  were  surprisingly  beautiful,  as  was 
their  prismatic  brilliancy.  The  sky  itself 
was  remarkably  clear  and  cloudless — and 
through  the  celestial  phenomena,  a  full 
moon  and  innumerable  stars  were,  all  the 
while,  distinctly  visible. 

In  Maryland,  according  to  the  observa- 
tions made  at  Emmettsburg,  the  first  indi- 
cation of  the  aurora's  approach  was  given 
as  soon  as  it  became  dark,  by  the  singular 
redness  of  the  cumulo-stratus  clouds,  now 
entirely  covering  the  sky.  Those  in  the 
north,  south,  east  and  west,  all  partook  of 
the  redness,  the  reflection  from  them  being 
strong  enough  to  give  a  red  tinge  to  the 
snow.  The  heaviest  clouds  retained  their 
dark  color  in  the  center,  but  they  were 
bordered  with  red.  During  the  hour  in 
which  this  state  of  things  existed,  there 
were  no  streamers,  streaks  of  light,  nor 
merry  dancers.  Indeed,  where  the  sky 
could  be  seen  between  the  clouds,  there 
were  no  signs  of  an  aurora,  but  rather  a 
deep    green    sky.      By    seven,    the    moon 


384 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


VIEW  OF  THE  AURORA   BOREALIS  I>'   ITS  EAKI.Y   STAGES. 


being  risen,  and  the  clouds  having  van- 
ished, nothing  remained  to  show  tliat  there 
had  been  any  unusual  occurrence.  A  little 
after  nine,  however,  the  slcy  being  per- 
fectly clear,  an  aurora  suddenly  sprang  up, 
which,  for  magnificence,  surpassed  any- 
thing of  the  kind  ever  before  witnessed  in 
that  section.  The  streamers  from  the 
east,  west,  and  north,  converged  a  few 
degrees  south  of  the  zenith,  forming  a 
beautiful  auroral  crown,  red  as  scarlet,  but 
intermingled  with  streaks  of  pale  light. 
There  were  no  merry  dancers,  but  all  the 
other  appearances  usually  witnessed  on 
such  occasions  were  noticed.  In  little 
more  than  half  an  hour,  the  grand  display 
was  over,  for  the  most  part. 

Observers  at  Annapolis,  Md.,  describe 
the  aurora  there  as  coming  on  in  waves, 
at  about  a  quarter  before  six,  and  return- 
ing at  seven,  at  eight,  and  at  nine.  The 
first  arch  was  formed  suddenly,  and  became 
vertical  in  a  very  few  minutes,  from  the 
first  appearance  of  the  columns  at  the 
north-west  and  south-east.  It  was  crim- 
son, traversed  by  white  pencils.  The 
color  of  the  light  at  eight  o'clock  was  not 
red,  but  dusky,  and  formed  from  the  north- 


west point  to  the  pole  star,  a  broad  column, 
Avhich  kei)t  its  position  for  half  an  hour. 
A  succession  of  fine  cirrus  clouds  floated 
off  from  the  lower  parts  of  the  column  to 
the  south.  At  nine  o'clock,  the  recurrence 
of  the  crimson  light  was  more  in  patches, 
and  of  intense  brightness,  accompanied  by 
cirro-cumulus  clouds,  which  were  formed 
suddenly  over  the  whole  sky,  and  Avere 
borne  swiftly  to  the  east  by  the  wind. 

Near  Alexandria,  Va.,  the  early  dis- 
play, as  seen  from  east  south-east  to 
west  south-west,  exhibited  a  rich  orange 
red  color,  extending  even  to  the  zenith, 
and  covering  all  the  heavens  north  of  these 
points.  The  return  occurred  toward  nine 
o'clock,  in  a  brilliant  and  fiery  form. 

The  appearance  of  the  aurora  in  South 
Carolina  commenced  about  six  o'clock,  in 
the  shape  of  a  bank  or  store-house  of  auro- 
ral vapor  towards  the  north.  When  first 
observed,  a  space  of  about  fifteen  degrees 
above  the  liorizon  was  strongly  marked  by 
a  pale  white  light,  above  which  the  crim- 
son hue  peculiar  to  this  phenomenon  began 
to  be  distil. c':ly  visible.  At  this  time,  the 
greatest  degree  of  brightness  was  to  the 
east  of  north,  assuming  no  veiy  definite 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


385 


form,  but  extending  about  eiglit  or  ten 
degrees  east,  and  reaching  in  height  to  tlie 
oonstelUition  of  Cassiopeia's  chair,  the 
lower  portion  of  whicli  was  enveloped  in 
its  reddening  glow.  The  action  then  sub- 
sided; but  at  about  eight  o'clock,  another 
bright  crimson  column  ascended  due  north, 
attaining  an  altitude  some  degrees  greater 
than  that  of  the  polar  star,  and  maintaining 
its  place  about  half  an  hour.  After  this 
had  faded  away,  no  return  was  observed 
until  half-past  nine,  when  there  was  per- 
ceived another  broad  arch  of  crimson  light, 
ascending  several  degrees  to  the  west  of 
north. 

In  certain  sections  of  Georgia,  the  phe- 
nomenon commenced  a  little  after  dark. 
The  sky  a  little  to  the  north  of  the  star 
Capella,  began  to  appear  luminous,  and  a 
luminous  arch  was  soon  formed,  of  about 
six  or  eight  degrees  in  breadth,  and 
extending  over  to  the  north-western  hori- 
zon, having  the  pole  star  in  its  highest 
point.  Soon  after  the  arch  was  formed, 
that  part  of  it  in  the  north-east  horizon 
became  much  brighter,  and  somewhat 
broader  than  the  rest ;  and  this  luminous 
portion  graduallj^  rose,  and  passed  on  in 
the  arch,  its  densest  part  culminating  a 
little  below  the  north  star.  It  continued 
its  motion  to  the  western  horizon. 

An  hour  and  a  half  was  occupied  by  the 
passage  of  the  luminous  part  of  the  arch 
just  described.  It  became  somewhat 
fainter,  after  it  had  passed  the  meridian, 
and  it  gradually  was  lost  to  sight,  begin- 
ning first  to  disappear  in  the  east,  so  that 
not  a  vestige    remained   at  nine   o'clock, 


three  hours  from  its  first  appearance.  The 
color  of  the  arch  was  that  of  light  scarlet, 
the  most  luminous  part  being  a  little 
darker,  and  much  more  intense.  Its  form 
was  that  of  a  semi-circle,  having  for  its 
base  about  sixty  degrees  of  the  horizon. 
It  differed  from  the  aurora  in  its  regular 
outline,  as  well  as  its  regular  motion  from 
east  to  west,  and  was  witnessed  with  admir- 
ation and  astonishment. 

So  extensive  was  this  magnificent  celes- 
tial jjlienomenon,  that  it  exhibited  its  won- 
derful splendors,  contemporaneousl}',  to 
the  inhabitants  of  Europe  and  America, 
though  the  presence  of  clouds  greatly 
interfered  with  the  attractiveness  and 
grandeur  of  the  exhibition  in  the  former. 
At  half-past  twelve,  however, — sa^'s  one  of 
the  observers  in  England, — a  patch  of  the 
most  intense  blood-red  colors  ever  seen, 
was  visible,  free  from  the  interposition  of 
clouds.  The  whole  of  the  sky  had  an 
awful  appearance  ;  for  the  tinge  of  red 
which  pervaded  the  whole  expanse, 
assumed,  in  many  points,  from  the  depth 
of  colors  above,  and  the  density  of  the 
clouds  below,  the  dark  copper  tint,  which 
is  seen  on  the  disk  of  the  moon  during  a 
lunar  eclipse.  It  was  such  a  sight  as  fills 
the  mind  with  wonder  and  awe  ;  and,  in 
America  at  least,  was  the  most  marvelous 
of  the  kind  ever  known ;  though  that  of 
August  and  September,  1859,  proved  but 
little  inferior  in  some  respects.  In  north- 
ern Europe,  this  phenomenon  is  quite 
frequent,  and  Mr.  Bayard  Taj'lor  describes 
one  of  rare  beauty  which  he  there  wit- 
nessed. 


25 


XLIII. 

EXPLORING  EXPEDITION  TO  THE  SOUTH  POLE,  UNDER 

COMMAND   OF   CAPTAIN  CHARLES  WILKTES, 

UNITED    STATES    NAVY.— 1838. 


First  Naval  Enterprise  of  the  Kind  Ever  Undertaken  by  the  American  Navy. — The  Squadron  Sails 
Ninety  Thousand  Miles  in  Four  Years. — Extent  and  Importance  of  the  Investigations. — Discovery 
of  the  Great  Antarctic  Continent — Other  Geographical,  Nautical,  and  Scientific  Results. — Selection 
of  Officers  and  Vessels. — A  Scientific  Corps  Organized. — Route  Prescribed  :  Seas  and  Lands. — 
Enthusiastic  Departure. — Arrival  at  Terra  del  Fuego. — Observations  at  Cape  Horn. — Excursion  to 
the  Cordilleras. — Ascent  of  a  Lofty  Peak. — Desolation  and  Silence. — New  Islands  Discovered. — 
An  Observatory  Established. — The  Samoan  Group  Examined. — Descent  into  an  Extinct  Volcano. — 
New  South  Wales  Visited. — Extreme  Southward  Cruise. — View  of  the  Ice-bound  Continent. — A 
Landing  Effected. — Account  of  this  Achievement. — Experiences  at  Feejee. — On  the  Summit  of 
Mauna-Loa. — Homeward  Bound  Tracks. — Safe  Arrival. 


"  The  primary  object  of  the  Expedition  is  to  promote  the  great  interests  of  Commerce  and  Navigation  :  yet  you  are  to  take  all  occosioaa 
not  incompatible  with  the  great  purposes  of  the  undertaking,  to  Extend  the  Bounds  of  Science  and  Promote  the  Acquisition  of  Knowledge." 
—  Official  Instkuctioxs  to  the  E.xplokeks. 


UIETLY  raising  the  flag  of  his  gallant  little  squadron,  in  the  harbor 
of  Norfolk,  Va.,  on  the  eighteenth  of  August,  1838,  the  intrepid 
^^\%:  Wilkes,  as  commander  of  the  first  maritime  exploring  expedition  ever 
undertaken  by  the  United  States  government,  set  sail  on  that  voyage 
of  discovery  to  the  far  southern  ocean  and  the  mysterious  south  pole,  which,  occupying 
four  years,  sailed  ninety  thousand  miles,  nearly  two  thousand  of  which  were  along  the 
coast  of  a  great  Antarctic  Continent  never  before  seen  by  civilized  man,  and  which  was 
first  discovered  by  Wilkes  from  the  one  hundred  and  fifty-eighth  degree  of  east  longi- 
tude ; — one  of  the  numerous  splendid  scientific  results  of  this  grand  national  expedition. 
The  enterprise  received  its  official  programme  from  Hon.  James  K.  Paulding,  secretary 
of  the  navy  under  President  Van  Buren  ;  and,  though  it  was  at  first  organized  under 
Commodore  Thomas  Ap  Catesby  Jones,  he  subsequently  resigned. 

This  expedition  will  always  be  memorable  in  the  history  of  the  nation,  from  its  being 
the  first  fitted  out  by  the  United  States  for  scientific  objects;  for,  although  its 
primary  design  was  the  promotion  of  the  great  interests  of  commerce  and  navigation, 
yet  its  conductors  were  explicitly  directed  to  take  all  occasions,  not  incompatible  with 
the  great  purpose  of  their  undertaking,  to  extend  the  bounds  of  science,  and  promote 
the  acquisition  of  knowledge. 

Some  of  the  specific  matters  to  which  the  attention  of  the  expedition  was  par- 
ticularly called,  in  the  official  instructions,  were  as  follows  :    The   hydrography  and 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


387 


geograph}'  of  the  various  seas  and  coun- 
tries visited  on  the  prescribed  route,  and 
all  the  researches  connected  with  them,  as 
well  as  with  astronomy,  terrestrial  mag- 
netism, and  meteorology,  were  confided 
exclusively  to  the  officers  of  the  navy, — 
the  government  expecting  such  results 
from  this  ari-angement,  as  would  enable 
future  navigators  to  pass  over  the  track 
traversed  by  the  expedition,  without  fear 
and  without  danger. 

The  leading  members  of  the  scientific 
corps  were  Mr.  H;^le,  ])hilologist ;  Mr. 
Pickering,  and  Mr.  Peale,  naturalists  ;  Mr. 
Couthuoy,  conchologist ;  Mr.  Dana,  miner- 
alogist ;  Mr.  Rich,  botanist ;  Mr.  Drayton, 
and  INIr.  Agate,  draughtsmen ;  Mr.  Brack- 
enridge,  horticulturist. 

Much  enthusiasm  and  anxiety  naturally 
prevailed,  on  the  signal  being  given  for 
the  squadron  to  sail.  The  vessels  compos- 
ing the  squadron,  were  the  sloop  of  war 
Yincennes,  the  fiag-ship  of  the  comman- 
der of  the  expedition ;  the  sloop  of  war 
Peacock,  Lieutenant  William  L.  Hudson  ; 
the  brig  Porpoise,  Lieutenant  Cadwalader 
Ringgold ;  the  store-ship  Relief,  Lieu- 
tenant A.  K.  Long ;  and  the  tenders  Sea- 
Gull  and  Plying  Fish.  Every  confidence 
was  reposed  in  Commander  Wilkes,  who 
had  served  so  creditably  under  Commodores 
McDonough  and  Stewart. 

Keeping  the  direction  of  the  Gulf 
stream,  the  course  of  the  expedition  was 
towards  Madeira ;  having  touched  there, 
they  stood  to  the  southward,  and,  on  the 
twenty-third  of  November,  stood  for  the 
magnificent  harbor  of  Rio  Janeiro.  The 
whole  squadron  then  sailed  by  the  way  of 
Rio  Negro  to  Orange  harbor  in  Terra  del 
Puego.  The  natives  of  the  former,  with 
whom  the  explorers  came  in  contact,  had 
good  figures  and  pleasant  looking  coun- 
tenances, low  foreheads  and  high  cheek- 
bones, with  broad  faces,  the  lower  parts 
projecting;  their  hair  was  coarse  and  cut 
short  on  the  crown,  leaving  a  narrow  bor- 
der of  hair  hanging  down ;  over  this  they 
wore  a  kind  of  cap  or  band  of  skin  or 
woolen  yarn.  The  front  teeth  of  all  of 
them  were  very  much  worn,  more   appar- 


ent, however,  in  the  old  than  in  the  young. 
On  one  foot  they  wore  a  rude  skin  sandal. 
Many  of  the  inhabitants  of  Terra  del 
Puego  had  their  faces  painted  in  red  and 
black  stripes,  with  clay,  soot,  and  ashes. 
Their  whole  appearance,  together  with 
their  inflamed  and  sore  eyes,  was  filthy 
and  disgusting. 

The  Petcherai  Indians  were  found  to  go 
entirely  nuked,  with  the  exception  of  a 
small  piece  of  seal-skin,  only  sufficient  to 
cover  one  shoulder,  and  which  was  gen- 
erally worn  on  the  side  from  which  the 
wind  blew,  affording  them  some  little 
shelter  from  its  piercing  influence.  They 
are  not  more  than  five  feet  high,  of 
a  light  copper  color,  which  is  much  con- 
cealed bj'  smut  and  dirt,  jiarticularly  on 
their  faces,  which  they  mark  vertically 
with  charcoal.  They  have  short  faces, 
narrow  foreheads,  high  cheek-bones,  small 
and  very  black  eyes,  the  upper  eyelids  in 
the  inner  corner  overlapping  the  under 
one,  strongly  resembling  the  Chinese. 
Their  nose  is  broad  and  flat,  with  wide- 
spread nostrils,  mouth  large,  teeth  white 
and  regular.  The  whole  face  is  com- 
pressed. It  is  impossible  to  fancy  any- 
thing in  human  nature  more  filthy.  They 
are  an  ill-shapen,  ugly  race. 

On  its  cruise  to  the  south,  the  squadron 
experienced  the  usual  reception  at  Cape 
Horn — rough  and  stormy  weather.  In 
regard  to  the  best  mode  of  j^roceeding,  in 
making  the  passage  round  the  cape.  Cap- 
tain Wilkes  expresses  his  belief  that  as 
much  depends  upon  the  vessel,  and  the 
manner  in  Avhich  she  is  navigated,  as  the 
route  pursued,  whether  the  cape  is  passed 
close  to,  or  given  a  wide  berth — the  ob- 
ject of  all  being  to  pass  it  as  quickly  as 
possible. 

Arriving  at  Valparaiso,  the  explorers 
established  an  observatory.  An  excursion 
to  the  Cordilleras,  by  the  scientific  corj)s, 
was  to  be  expected ;  but,  unfortunately, 
they  were  not  provided  with  the  requisite 
instruments  for  ascertaining  elevations. 
They  ascended  a  ridge  belonging  to  the 
main  body  of  the  Cordilleras,  and  at  the 
height  of  about  ten  thousand  feet,    they 


388 


CUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


reached  the  summit.  Here  they  had  an 
extensive  view  of  all  the  line  of  the  snowy 
peaks.  That  of  Tupongati  appeared  the 
most  conspicuous,  althougli  at  a  distance 
of  eighty  miles.  Indeed,  the  guide  him- 
self asserted  that  he  could  see  smoke 
issuing  from  its  volcano  in  a  faint  streak, 
but  it  was  beyond  the  vision  of  the    rest 


of  the  party.  The  peak  itself  from  this 
view  of  it  was  quite  sharp-pointed.  The 
scene  immediately  around  tlie  explorers 
was  one  of  grandeur  and  desolation, — 
mountain  after  mountain,  separated  by 
immense  chasms,  to  the  depth  of  thousands 
of  feet,  and  the  sides  broken  in  the  most 
fantastic  forms  imaginable.  Nor  could 
anything  be  more  striking  or  impressive 
than  the  complete  silence  that  reigned 
everywhere  ;  not  a  living  thing  appeared 
to  their  view. 

From  Callao  the  squadron  passed  through 
the  Paumotu  group  to  Tahiti,  visiting 
islands  not  before  known,  the  ships  steer- 
ing for  the  island  of  Minerva,  or  Cler- 
mont de  Tonnerre,  one  of  the  most  eastern 
of  that  'Cloud  of  Islands,'  as  the  name 
implies.  Visits  were  made  to  other  islets 
also,  and  their  inhabitants,  such  as  Wy- 
toohee,  Otooho,  Raraka,  Aratica,  and  the 
Arutua  or    Rurick    Islands ;    but  the  ac- 


count of  this  archipelago  is,  of  course, 
imperfect,  the  whole  number  of  coral 
islands  being  sixty-five.  Remark  is  made, 
however,  that  the  landijig  on  a  coral  island 
effectually  does  away  with  all  precon- 
ceived notions  of  its  beaut}',  and  any  2)re- 
vious  ideas  formed  in  its  favor  are  imme- 
diately put  to  flight.  The  verdure  con- 
sists of  mere  patches  of  wiry  grass, 
no  fruit  nor  flowers,  and  most  of  tlic 
trees  are  of  stunted  size. 

Record  is  made  of  the  discovery  of 
new  islands — namely,  King's  island,  so 
denominated  after  the  man  at  the  mast- 
head who  first  discovered  it;  Tai-a-ra, 
situated  to  the  northward  and  west- 
ward and  nigh  to  Raraka,  which  was 
not  laid  down  on  any  charts ;  and 
Kawahe. 

Arriving  at  Tahiti,  the  explorers  lost 
no  time  in  commencing  operations.  An 
observatory,  furnished  with  both  as- 
tronomic and  magnetic  instruments, 
i)-x^"  was  at  once  established,  and  parties 
sent  out  for  the  survey  of  the  princi- 
pal harbors  and  the  intervening  chan- 
nels. A  large  body  of  officers  and 
naturalists  were  also  sent  across  the 
islands  to  visit  Orohena,  one  of  the 
highest  peaks,  and  Lake  Waiherea. 
They  could  not,  however,  reach  the  de- 
sired spot,  but  some  days  afterwards  Cap- 
tain Hudson,  with  his  officers,  succeeded 
in  measuring  the  elevation  of  Aorai,  the 
peak  which  is  next  in  height  to  Orohena. 
This  was  found  to  be  about  seven  thousand 
feet ;  Orohena  appeared  to  be  some  fifteen 
hundred  feet  higher.  From  these  two 
peaks,  ridges  descend  to  all  parts  of  the 
coast ;  they  are  precipitous  and  narrow ; 
their  summit  being  often  a  mere  edge. 

Reaching  the  harbor  of  Papieti,  the 
commander  invited  the  great  chiefs  on 
board,  the  ship  being  dressed  for  the  oc- 
casion, and  every  mark  of  respect  being 
shown  them.  Luncheon  was  prepared, 
and,  when  the  guests  were  all  seated  at 
it,  such  a  collection  of  corpulent  persons 
was  rarely  if  ever  before  seen.  Previous 
to  eating,  one  of  the  chiefs  said  grace. 
They   seemed   heartily  to  enjoy  the    food 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


389 


and  the  occasion,  and  conducted  them- 
selves with  a  propriety  that  surprised  all 
on  board. 

It  having  been  determined  to  make  a 
thorough  examination  of  the  group  of  the 
►Samoan  islands,  Tutulia,  as  the  most  cen- 
tral, was  selected  for  the  station.  The 
men  of  Tutulia  are  a  remarkably  tall,  fine- 
looking  set,  with  intelligent  and  pleasing 
countenances.  In  comparison  with  the 
Tahitians,  they  would  be  called  sedate. 
The  women  are  far  from  good-looking, 
with  the  exception  of  some  of  the  younger 
ones.  They  are  remarkably  domestic  and 
virtuous,  exhibiting  a  strange  contrast  to 
those  of  Tahiti. 

Messrs.  Dana  and  Couthuoy  visited  a 
lake  called  Lauto,  which  is  remarkable  for 
the  existence  of  an  extinct  volcano,  or 
crater.  The  edge  of  tlie  crater  was  found 
to  be  two  thousand  five  hundred  and 
seventy  feet  above  the  sea,  and  the  de- 
scent thence  to  the  water  of  the  lake  is 
one  hundred  and  twenty  feet.  These  gen- 
tlemen succeeded  in  obtaining  a  line  of 
soundings  across  the  lake,  by  cutting 
down  trees,  and  forming  a  raft  of  thera. 
They  found  the  depth,  in  the  middle,  nine 
and  a  half  fathoms,  decreasing  thence 
gradually  in  all  directions  to  tlie  shore. 
The  form  of  the  lake  is  nearly  circular, 
and  it  has  a  subterranean  outlet.  The 
hill  in  which  this  crater  is  situated  is  coni- 
cal, and  there  is  a  low  knoll  at  some  dis- 
lance  to  the  south  of  it,  which  is  the  only 
other  elevation  in  the  neighborhood,  above 
the  general  height  of  the  ridge.  The  bor- 
der of  the  crater  is  clothed  with  the  usual 
forest  foliage  of  these  islands,  which,  how- 
ever, exhibits  here  more  than  usual  beauty, 
being  decorated  with  finely-worked  fronds 
of  the  arborescent  ferns,  in  widel^y-spread 
stars,  and  the  graceful  mountain-palm 
plumes. 

In  the  different  jaunts  across  the  island, 
many  of  the  '  Devil's,'  or  unconverted, 
towns  were  visited.  At  the  town  of 
Siusinga,  the  chief  who  entertained  the 
party  was  a  priest  of  the  Gimblet  religion, 
a  new  faith,  of  singular  origin,  its  founder 
having  been  a  native  of    Savaii,   by  name 


Seeovedi,  who,  having  been  taken  from 
that  island  by  a  whaler,  received,  while  on 
board,  the  nickname  of  Joe  Gimblet. 
Embracing,  in  course  of  time,  the  Roman 
Catholic  faith,  and  possessing  withal  much 
shrewdness,  he  idanned  to  found  a  sect  of 
his  own,  and  pretended  to  work  miracles. 
He  gained  many  proselytes;  and  the  sect, 
in  case  of  sickness,  confess  their  sins  to 
one  another,  and  liave  a  number  of  fast- 
days,  which  are  rigidly  kept.  Their  Sab- 
bath occurs  only  once  a  month,  and  is  cel- 
ebrated by  the  firing  of  guns,  and  the 
puerile  mummery  in  which  their  worship 
consists. 

After  having  surveyed  and  explored  the 
Samoan  group,  the  expedition  proceeded 
to  New  South  Wales.  The  natives  of  this 
country  are  described  as  a  proud,  high- 
tempered  race,  each  man  being  independ- 
ent of  his  neighbor,  owning  no  superior, 
and  exacting  no  deference;  they  have  not 
in  their  language  any  word  signifying  a 
chief  or  superior,  nor  to  command  or  serve. 
Each  individual  is  the  source  of  his  own 
comforts,  and  the  artificer  of  his  own 
household  implements  and  weapons;  and 
but  for  the  love  of  companionship,  he 
might  live  with  his  family  apart  and 
isolated  from  the  rest,  without  sacrificing 
any  advantages  whatever.  They  have  an 
air  of  haughtiness  and  insolence  arising 
from  this  independence,  and  nothing  w'ill 
induce  thein  to  acknowledge  any  human 
being  as  their  superior,  or  to  show  any 
marks  of  respect.  They  also  appear  to 
have  a  consciousness  of  inde[)endence, 
which  causes  them,  on  all  occasions,  to 
treat  even  the  highest  with  eqivdWty. 
Their  skin  is  a  chocolate  color;  their  noses 
are  not  flat,  nor  are  their  lips  thick ;  their 
teeth  white  and  even. 

Leaving  Sidney,  the  last  of  December, 
1839,  the  vessels  proceeded  separately  to 
the  southward,  when  all  reached  the  icy 
barrier,  and  three  of  them  tvere  rewarded 
until,  a  sifjht  of  tJie  Intlterto  unknown 
antarctic  continent,  —  a  discovery  which 
was  subsequently  confirmed  by  both 
French  and  English  authorities. 

According  to  the  narrative  of  the  explor- 


390 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ers,  it  was  at  two  o'clock  on  the  morning 
of  February  thirteenth,  1840,  that  they 
made  sail  to  the  south-west,  in  order  to 
close  with  the  barrier,  which  they  found 


icebergs  of  tabular  form.  In  the  afternoon, 
they  saw  land  ahead,  and  stood  in  for  it, 
with  a  light  breeze  until  half-past  six, 
when  it  was  judged  to  be  ten  or  twelve 


retreated  in  that  direction,  and  gave  tliem 
every  prospect  of  getting  nearer  to  it. 
The  course,  for  the  most  part,  was  through 


miles  distant.  It  was  very  distinct,  and 
extended  from  west-south-west  to  south- 
south-east.     The  longitude  was  one  hun- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


391 


dred  and  six  degrees,  forty  minutes,  east ; 
latitude,  sixty-five  degrees,  fifty-seven 
minutes,  south.  The  water  was  very 
green  ;  and,  tliough  sounded  to  tliree  hun- 
dred fathoms,  no  bottom  was  found.  The 
weather  having  ;iu  unsettled  appearance, 
the  expedition  stood  off  to  seek  a  clearer 
space  for  tlie  night.  The  land  left  was 
high,  rounded,  and  covered  with  snow, 
resembling  that  first  discovered,  and  had 
the  appearance  of  being  bound  by  perpen- 
dicular icy  cliffs. 

At  daylight,  the  next  morning,  sail  was 
again  made  for  the  land,  the  vessels  beat- 
ing in  for  it  for  several  hours,  when  any 
further  progress  was  found  quite  impossi- 
ble. The  day  was  remarkably  clear,  and 
the  land  very  distinct, — judged  to  be  seven 
or  eight  miles  distant.  By  measurement, 
the  extent  of  the  coast  of  the  Antarctic 
Continent  then  in  sight,  was  made 
to  be  seventy-five  miles,  and,  by  ap- 
proximate measurement,  three  thousand 
feet  high.  It  was  entirely  covered  with 
snow.  On  running  in,  they  passed 
several  icebergs  greatly  discolored  with 
earth,  and  there  being  no  nearer  approach 
to  the  shore  possible,  it  was  determined 
to  land  on  the  largest  ice-island  access- 
ible, to  make  dip,  intensit}',  and  variation 
observations. 

On  coming  up  to  the  island,  about  a 
mile  and  a  half  from  where  the  barrier 
had  previously  been  encountered,  the  ship 
was  hove  to,  the  boats  lowered,  and  a  land- 
ing fortunately  effected.  There  were 
found  imbedded  in  the  island,  in  places, 
boulders,  stones,  gravel,  sand,  and  mud  or 
clay.  The  larger  specimens  were  of  red 
sandstone  and  basalt.  No  signs-of  strati- 
fication were  to  be  seen  in  it,  but  it  was 
in  places  formed  of  icy  conglomerate,  com- 
posed of  large  i:)ieces  of  rocks,  as  it  were 
frozen  together,  and  the  ice  was  extremely 
hard  and  flint-like.  The  largest  boulder 
imbedded  in  it  was  about  five  or  six  feet 
in  diameter,  but  could  not  be  reached, 
being  situated  under  the  shelf  of  the  ice- 
berg. Many  specimens  were  obtained,  the 
eagerness  and  desire  of  all  hands  to  pos- 
sess themselves  of  a  piece  of  the  Antarctic 


Continent  being  very  great.  These  pieces 
were  in  great  demand  during  the  remainder 
of  the  cruise. 

In  the  center  of  this  iceberg  was  found 
a  })ond  of  most  delicious  water,  over  which 
was  a  surface  of  ice  about  ten  inches  thick. 
The  pond  was  three  feet  deep,  extending 
over  an  area  of  an  acre,  and  contained 
sufficient  water  for  half  a  dozen  ships. 
The  temperature  of  the  water  was  thirty- 
one  degrees.  This  island  had,  undoubt- 
edly, been  turned  partly  over,  and  had 
precisely  the  same  apjjearance  that  the 
icy  barrier  would  have  exhibited  if  it  had 
been  turned  bottom  up  and  subsequently 
much  worn  by  storms.  There  was  no 
doubt  that  it  had  been  detached  from  the 
land,  which  was  about  eight  miles  distant. 
The  icebergs  found  along  the  coast  afloat 
were  from  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  five  miles 
in  length ;  their  separation  from  the  land 
may  be  effected  by  severe  frost  rending 
them  asunder,  after  which  the  violent  and 
frequent  storms  may  be  considered  a  suffi- 
cient cause  to  overcome  the  attraction 
which  holds  them  to  the  parent  mass.  In 
their  next  stage  they  exhibit  the  process 
of  decay,  being  found  fifty  or  sixty  miles 
from  the  land,  and  for  the  most  part  with 
their  surfaces  inclined  at  a  considerable 
angle  to  the  horizon.  This  is  caused  by 
a  change  in  the  position  of  the  center  of 
gravity,  arising  from  the  abrading  action 
of  the  waves. 

Proceeding  to  New  Zealand,  the  expedi- 
tion went  thence  to  the  Feejee  islands, 
exploring  the  same  very  thoroughly. 
Most  of  the  harbors  in  the  Feejee  group 
are  described  as  mere  indentations  in  the 
coast  outline,  protected  by  the  encircling 
reefs  of  coral.  Probably  the  best  of  them 
all  is  that  of  Levuka,  on  the  east  side  of 
Ovolau,  which  is  safe  and  easy  of  access 
for  vessels  of  the  largest  class.  The  town 
is  located  in  the  midst  of  a  grove  of  bread 
fruits  and  cocoas,  whose  feathery  canopies 
afford  a  most  delightful  shade ;  its  site  is 
a  beautiful  valley,  through  which  courses 
a  fine  stream  of  fresh  water,  opening  to 
the  ocean,  flanked  on  either  side  by  ver- 
dant hills,  and  rising  by  a  gradual  ascent 


392 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


to  the  lofty  peaks  of  basalt  that  bound  the 
view  to  the  west. 

The  entire  Feejee  group  comprises  one 
hundred  and  fifty-four  islands,  and  they 
are  covered    with  a  luxuriant  foliage   to 


WILKES'S  PARTY  DEALING  WITH  THE  SAVAGES, 

their  very  summits,  giving  them  a  singu- 
larly pleasing  and  picturesque  aspect.  The 
climate  is  very  fine,  the  soil  rich,  and 
vegetation  exceedingly  rapid.  The  natives 
are  a  barbarous  and  savage  race,  and  to 


their  cruelty  it  was  that  Lieutenant  Un- 
derwood and  Midshipman  Henry,  two  of 
the  most  promising  officers  of  the  expedi- 
tion, fell  mortal  victims,  while  on  shore  to 
obtain  provisions.  For  these  murders, 
prompt  vengeance  was  inflicted  by  Captain 
Wilkes. 

Captain  Wilkes  next  visited  the  Ha- 
waiian islands,  and,  in  the  course  of  his 
scientific  operations,  ascended  personally 
to  the  summit  of  Mauna-Loa,  and  there 
j)erformed  the  difficult  and  imj^ortant  feat 
of  measuring  the  pendulum.  This  moun- 
tain is  nearly  fourteen  thousand  feet  high, 
with  a  smooth  dome,  crowned  by  an 
immense  crater,  upwards  of  two  miles  in 
diameter. 

The  other  jilaces  visited  by  the  exi:)edi- 
tion,  were  the  north-west  coast  of  America, 
and  the  Columbia  and  Sacramento 
rivers ;  they  then  explored  portions 
of  California,  and,  leaving  San 
Francisco  in  the  month  of  Novem- 
ber, 1841,  went  on  a  cruise  to 
Manila,  Sooloo,  Borneo,  Singapore, 
and  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  re- 
turning home,  by  way  of  St.  He- 
lena, in  June,  1842,  after  an  ab- 
sence of  about  four  years.  The 
number  of  sketches  of  the  different 
places  visited,  made  by  the  artists 
on  board,  was  about  five  hundred, 
together  with  some  two  hundred 
2)ortraits.  Thousands  of  speci- 
mens of  birds,  animals,  fishes,  rep- 
tiles, insects,  shells,  minerals,  etc., 
were  also  collected  and  brought 
home.  The  results  of  the  expedi- 
tion were,  in  a  word,  such  as  reflected 
the  highest  honor  upon  the  national 
government,  under  whose  auspices  it  was 
organized,  and  upon  the  gallant  officers 
and  men  to  whom  it  was  intrusted. 


XLIT. 

BREAKING  OUT  OF  THE  TEMPERANCE  REFORMA- 
TION.—1840. 


Origin,  EapiJ  Spread,  Influence,  and  Wonderful  History  of  the  Movement. — Enthusiasm  Attending  the 
"  Washingtonian  "  Era. — Its  Pioneers  Rise  from  tlie  Gutter  to  the  Rostrum,  and  Sway  Multitudes  by 
their  Eloquence  — Father  Mathew's  Visit. — His  600,000  Converts. — (Career  of  Hawkins.  Mitchell, 
Gough,  Dow,  and  Otliers. — First  Temperance  Society  in  the  United  States. — Singular  Terms  of 
Membership. — Social  Customs  in  Former  Times — Unrestrained  Use  of  Spirits. — Growing  Desire  for 
Reform. — Influential  Men  Enlisted. — Meetings,  Societies,  Agitation — A  Congressional  Organization. 
—Origin  of  "  Tee-Totalism."— Deacon  Giles's  Distillery.—"  My  Mother's  Gold  Ring  "—Rise  of 
"  Washingtonianism." — Six  Reformed  Drunkards. — Cold  Water  Armies,  Processions,  etc. — Music, 
Banners  and  Badges. — The  Country  All  Ablaze  — An  "  Apostle  of  Temperance." — Administering  the 
Pledge. — Conflict  Concerning  Measures. — Anecdotes  of  Washington. — General  Taylor's  Whiskey 
Jug. — Farragut's  Substitute  for  Grog. 


"I  shall  not  close  this  letter  without  exhorting  jou  to  refrain  from  spirituous  liquors;  they  will  prove  your  ruin  if  you  do  not.    Consider 
bow  little  a  drunken  man  differi  from  a  beast;  the  latter  la  not  endowed  with  reason,  the  former  deprives  himself  of  it."— Gbnekal  VVash- 

IXOTON. 


^ERHAPS  it  would  be  difficult  to  name  the  precise  date  when 
active  public  efforts  were  initiated  in  the  United  States  to 
check  the  widespread  evil  of  intemperance.  It  is  not  to 
be  doubted,  however,  that  the  writings  of  that  eminent 
man  of  science,  Dr.  Benjamin  Rush,  of  Philadelphia, 
especially  his  "  Inquiry  into  the  Effects  of  Ardent  Spirits 
upon  the  Human  Body  and  Mind,"  issued  as  early  as  1804, 
did  much  to  awaken  an  interest  in  the  subject,  on  the  part 
of  the  community.  But  not  until  1808,  was  there  any 
movement  of  an  associated  character,  for  j^ublic  or  indi- 
vidual abandonment  of  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks. 

But  it  sounds  somewhat  strangely,  in  these  later  days  of 
radical  reform,  that  the  initial  movement  referred  to,  and 
which  was  entitled  "The  Temperate  Society  of  Moreau  and  Northumberland,"  (towns 
in  the  county  of  Saratoga,  N.  Y.)  originated  by  Billy  Clarke,  should  be  based  uj^on 
regulations  like  the  following  : — 

"No  member  shall  be  intoxicated,  under  penalty  of  fifty  cents.  No  member  shall 
drink  rum,  gin,  whiskey,  wine,  or  any  distilled  spirits,  or  compositions  of  the  same,  or 
any  of  them,  except  by  the  advice  of  a  physician,  or  in  case  of  actual  disease  (also 
excepting  wine  at  public  dinners),  under  penalty  of  twenty-five  cents ;  provided  that 
this  article  shall  not  infringe  on  any  religious  ordinance.  No  member  shall  offer  any 
of  said  liquors  to  any  other  member,  or  urge  any  other  person  to  drink  thereof, 
under  penalty  of  twenty-five  cents  for  each  offense." 


EFFECT  OF  REFORMATION. 


394 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


But  the  day  of  small  beginnings,  in  a 
humane  cause,  is  never  to  be  despised, 
and,  in  a  few  years,  the  reform  had 
enlisted  the  earnest  co-operation  of  law- 
yers, divines,  and  other  eminent  men,  such 
as  Carey,  Palfrey,  Humphrey,  Dexter, 
Marsh,  Edwards,  Beecher,  Porter,  Leavitt, 
He  wit.  Day,  and  Kittredge.  In  1813, 
there  was  formed  the  Massachusetts  Soci- 
ety for  the  Suppression  of  Intemperance  ; 
one  in  Connecticut,  in  1829 ;  and,  in  1826, 
the  American  Temperance  Union.  The 
statistics  of  this  period  present  the  calcu- 
lation, that,  out  of  a  white  j^opulation  of 
ten  millions,  between  three  and  four  mil- 
lions were  habitual  spirit-drinkers,  of  whom 
three  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand 
drank  daily  on  an  average  three  gills  of 
ardent  spirits,  while  an  equal  number  con- 
sumed more  than  twice  that  quantity,  and 
of  course  were  drunkards.  Making  due 
allowance  for  the  imjierfectness  of  such 
statistical  data,  it  was  admitted  by  all, 
that  the  intemperate  use  of  spirituous  liq- 
uors, in  every  part  of  the  land,  had  become 
alarmingly  prevalent. 

The  excellent  resume  of  this  movement, 
as  given  by  Dr.  Emerson  Davis,  himself 
one  of  its  ablest  and  most  efficient  sup- 
porters, states  that  at  this  time  the  reform 
seemed  to  be  simultaneous  through  the 
country.  At  the  beginning  of  1828,  the 
custom,  hitherto  so  general,  of  treating 
visitors  with  wine,  cordials,  and  brandy, 
began  to  disappear.  The  sideboards  of 
the  rich  and  influential,  which  from  time 
immemorial  had  groaned  under  a  load  of 
decanters,  were  relieved  of  their  burdens, 
and  a  very  great  change  in  the  customs  of 
society  began  to  be  apparent.  At  the 
close  of  1828,  the  number  of  temperance 
societies  reported  in  the  temperance  jour- 
nals was  two  hundred  and  twenty-five. 
At  the  close  of  1829,  there  were  more 
than  one  thousand  such  societies,  embrac- 
ing more  than  one  hundred  thousand 
members,  pledged  to  total  abstinence ; 
fifty  distilleries  had  stopped,  four  hun- 
dred merchants  had  abandoned  the  traffic, 
and  twelve  hundred  drunkards  had  been 
reclaimed.     On  the  first  of  May,  1831,  it 


appeared  that  more  than  three  hundred 
thousand  persons  had  signed  the  pledge, 
and  not  less  than  fift^^  thousand  were  sup- 
posed to  have  been  saved  from  a  drunkard's 
grave.  Even  at  Washington,  a  congres- 
sional temperance  society  was  organized, 
under  the  auspices  of  such  men  as  Cass, 
Grundy,  Bates,  Wayne,  Post,  Durbin,  and 
others ;  and  some  of  the  most  brilliant 
public  men  signed  the  pledge. 

A  very  common  objection  (adds  Dr. 
Davis),  made  by  many  of  the  poor,  was, 
that  they  could  not  afford  to  drink  wine, 
and,  therefore,  that  signing  the  pledge 
operated  unequally ;  it  took  from  them 
the  use  of  all  stimulants  but  cider  and 
beer,  but  it  left  to  the  rich  the  use  of  wine, 
which  was  often  about  as  strong  as  Cognac 
brandy.  In  order  to  obviate  this  objec- 
tion, it  was  found  necessary  to  introduce 
a  new  pledge,  prohibiting  the  use,  not 
only  of  distilled,  but  of  fermented,  liquors. 
The  first  society  that  ado})ted  this  pledge 
was  the  Eighth  Ward  Branch  of  the  New 
York  City  Temperance  Society.  This 
was  called  the  tee-total  pledge, — a  name 
first  given  to  it  in  England,  and  which 
had  its  origin  in  the  prolonged  and  inco- 
herent stuttering,  by  one  who  was  taking 
the  pledge,  at  the  first  letter  in  the  word 
'  fotal.'  This  tee-total  pledge  was  intro- 
duced into  this  country  in  1834,  and  in 
a  short  time  many  societies  were  formed 
on  that  principle.  Many,  however,  who 
signed  the  old  pledge,  refused  to  sign  the 
new  ;  and  thus  there  was  an  apjiarcnt  fall- 
ing off  in  the  number  of  the  members  of 
temperance  organizations.  Some,  too,  who 
had  delivered  public  addresses,  and  stood 
foremost  in  the  ranks  of  reformers,  were 
thrown  into  the  background,  and  became 
silent  spectators  of  passing  events. 

Among  the  prominent  promoters  of  the 
cause,  appear  the  names  of  Delavan,  Nor- 
ton, Keener,  Gerritt  Smith,  Moses  Grant, 
Loyd,  Collins,  Briggs,  Walworth,  Grundy, 
Hunt,  Stewart,  and  Hoar,  as  speakers. 
Mr.  L.  M.  Sargent  contributed  powerfully 
to  the  reform,  by  his  unrivaled  temper- 
ance tales,  including  that  widely  circulated 
and   admired   production,   '^  My   Mother's 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


395 


Gold  Binff.''  Pierpont  inspired  thousands 
by  his  quaint  and  thrilling  poems;  and 
the  letters,  essays,  and  other  writings,  of 
such  men  as  Woodward,  Warren,  Baird, 
Beman,  Chapin,  Kirk,  Channing,  and 
Barnes,  adikul  greatly  to  the  impression 
upon  the  public  mind.  Among  the  in(U- 
dents  of  this  period,  perhaps  none  created 
greater  interest  and  excitement  through- 
out the  whole  land,  than  the  assault,  prose- 
cution, and  imprisonment,  of  Rev.  George 
B.  Cheever,  of  Salem,  Mass.,  subsequently 
of  New  York.  About  the  beginning  of 
1835,  he  published  in  a  Salem  newspaper, 
a  dream,  descriptive  of  "  Deacon  Giles's 
Distillery,"  in  which  the  liquors  were 
graphically  characterized  as  containing 
demons  in  an  inferno.  Deacon  Giles  was 
a  veritable  person,  and  the  publication 
resulted  in  a  violent  assault  upon  Mr. 
Cheever,  one  night,  by  the  foreman  of  the 
distillery,  who  inflicted  upon  the  unarmed 
clergyman  a  number  of  severe  blows  with 
a  raw  hide,  to  which  Mr.  Cheever  made  no 
resistance.  Mr.  Cheever  was  also  prose- 
cuted for  libel,  and  sentenced  to  thirty 
daj^s'  imprisonment.  He  was  regarded  as 
a  martyr  to  the  cause  of  temperance,  and 
his  case  helped  rather  than  checked  the 
progress  of  the  reform.  He  continued  to 
do  valiant  service,  as  before,  with  his  pen 
and  voice,  ranking,  in  this  respect,  with 
such  men  as  Clarke,  Grimke,  Fisk,  Coffin, 
Woods,  AVilliams,  Merrill,  Sewall,  Pond, 
Thurston,  Reese,  Van  Loon,  Jewett,  Buck- 
ingham. 

But  a  most  stirring  and  enthusiastic 
impetus  was  yet  to  be  given  to  the  temper- 
ance movement,  and  that  through  the 
humblest  personal  instrumentality.  This 
was  the  organization  of  the  Washington 
Temperance  Society,  in  Baltimore,  in  the 
month  of  April,  1840 ;  its  most  remarka- 
ble convert  being  Mr.  John  H.  W.  Haw- 
kins, who  joined  the  society  the  following 
June. 

It  appears  that  six  individuals,  who 
were  in  the  habit  of  associating  together, 
were  seated,  as  xisual,  on  Friday  evening, 
April  2,  1840,  in  Chase's  tavern,  in  Lib- 
erty street,   Baltimore,  where    they   were 


accustomed  to  meet  almost  every  evening, 
for  the  purpose  of  enjoying  mutually  all 
the  benefits  and  conveniences  which  that 
establishment  and  each  other's  society 
could  possibly  afford.  These  were  Wil- 
liam X.  Mitchell,  tailor  ;  John  F.  Hoss, 
carpenter  ;  David  Anderson,  blacksmith  ; 
George  Steers,  blacksmith  ;  James  McCur- 
ley,  coach-maker ;  and  Archibald  Camp- 
bell, silver-plater.  A  clergyman  who  was 
preaching  in  the  city  at  that  time,  had 
given  public  notice  that  on  that  evening 
he  would  deliver  a  discourse  on  the  sub- 
ject of  temperance.  Upon  this  lecture, 
the  conversation  of  the  six  comrades  pres- 
ently turned ;  whereupon  it  was  agreed 
that  four  of  them  should  go  and  hear  it, 
and  report  accordingl3^  So,  after  the  ser- 
mon, they  returned  and  conversed  on  its 
merits  for  some  time ;  when  one  of  the 
company  remarked,  '  After  all,  temperance 
is  a  good  thing.'  '  Oh,'  said  the  host, 
'  they're  all  a  parcel  of  hypocrites.'  '  Oh, 
yes,'  replied  McCurley,  '  I'll  be  bound  for 
you ;  it's  your  interest  to  cry  them  down, 
anyhow.'  'I  tell  you  what,  hoys,  lefs 
form  a  society,  and  make  Bill  Mitchell 
president.'  'Agreed,'  cried  they.  The 
idea  seemed  to  take  wonderfully,  and  the 
more  they  talked  and  laughed  over  the 
idea,  the  more  were  they  pleased  w'ith  it. 

After  parting  that  night,  they  did  not 
all  meet  again  until  Sunday,  when  they 
took  a  stroll,  and,  between  walking  and 
treating,  they  managed  to  arrange  the 
whole  matter  to  their  entire  satisfaction. 
It  was  agreed  that  one  of  them  should 
draw  up  a  pledge,  and  that  the  whole 
party  should  sign  it  the  next  day.  Accord- 
ingly, on  ]\Ionday  morning,  Mitchell  wrote 
the  following  pledge:  'We  whose  names 
are  annexed,  desirous  of  forming  a  society 
for  our  mutual  benefit,  and  to  guard 
against  a  }>ernicious  practice,  which  is 
injurious  to  our  health,  standing,  and  fam- 
ilies, do  pledge  ourselves  as  gentlemen, 
that  we  will  not  drink  any  spirituous  or 
malt  liquors,  wnne,  or  cider.' 

He  went  with  this,  at  about  nine  o'clock, 
to  Anderson's  house,  and  found  him  still 
in  bed,  sick  from  the  effects  of  his  Sunday 


396 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


adventures.  He  arose,  however,  dressed 
himself,  and,  after  hearing  the  pledge  read, 
went  down  to  his  shop  with  his  friend  for 
pen  and  ink,  and  there  did  himself  the 
honor  of  being  the  first  man  to  sign. 
After  obtaining  the  names  of  the  remain- 
ing four,  the  worthy  president  finished 
this  noble  achievement  by  adding  his  own. 
On  the  evening  of  that  day,  they  met  at 
the  residence  of  one  of  their  number  and 
duly  formed  themselves  into  a  society,  with 
the  usual  officers.  Little  did  these  six 
associates  know  of  the  fame  and  achieve- 
ments they  were  moulding ! 

Having  thus  got  under  way,  they  next 
turned  their  attention  to  obtaining  mem- 
bers and  devising  means  to  defray  the 
expenses  of  their  meetings ;  it  was  there- 
fore agreed  that  each  man  should  bring  a 
man,  and  every  one  should  pay  twenty-five 
cents  upon  becoming  a  member,  and 
twelve  and  a  half  cents,  monthly,  there- 
after. 

The  next  debate  was  as  to  the  name 
they  should  give  to  their  society.  A  num- 
ber were  proposed,  among  them  that  of 
Jeiferson ;  when  it  was  finally  agreed  that 
the  president  and  secretary  should  be  a 
committee  to  draft  a  constitution,  and 
select  a  name.  This  tbey  did,  giving  to 
the  association  the  name  of  the  "  Wash- 
ington Temperance  Society,"  in  honor  , 
of  the  Father  of  his  Country,  and  were 
consequently  known  as  Washingtoniaiis. 
It  is  a  little  singular,  however,  that  this 
name  should  have  been  chosen,  for,  ^ 
though  Washington  was 
one  of  the  brightest 
examples  of  temperate 
eating  and  drinking,  he 
habitually  used  liquor 
or  wine  himself,  and 
provided  it  for  his 
guests  and  laborers. 
The  following  curious 
document  is  in  point : 

"  Articles    of  Agree- 
ment made  this  twelftli 
day     of     April,    Anno  ^ 
Domini,    one    tliousand  l:^^—- 
seven     hundred    and 


eighty-seven,  by  and  between  George 
Washington,  Esq.,  of  the  Parish  of  Truro, 
in  the  County  of  Fairfax,  State  of  Vir- 
ginia, on  the  one  part,  and  Philip  Bater, 
Gardener,  on  the  other.  Witness,  that 
the  said  Philip  I'ater,  for  and  in 
consideration  of  the  covenants  herein 
hereafter  mentioned,  doth  promise  and 
agree  to  serve  the  said  George  Wash- 
ington for  the  term  of  one  year,  as  a 
Gardener,  and  that  he  will,  during  said 
time,  conduct  himself  soberly,  diligently 
and  honestly — that  he  will  faithfully  and 
industriously  perform  all  and  every  part  of 
his  duty  as  a  gardener,  to  the  best  of  his 
knowledge  and  abilities,  and  that  he  will 
not,  at  any  time  suffer  himself  to  be  dis- 
guised with  liquor,  excejit  on  the  times 
hereafter  mentioned.  In  consideration  of 
these  things  being  well  and  truly  per- 
formed on  the  part  of  the  said  Philip 
Bater,  the  said  George  Washington  doth 
agree  to  allow  liim  (the  said  Philip)  the 
same  kind  and  (juantity  of  provisions  as  he 
has  heretofore  had  ;  and  likewise,  annually, 
a  decent  suit  of  clothes,  befitting  a  man  in 
his  station  ;  to  consist  of  a  coat,  vest  and 
breeches  ; — a  working-jacket,  and  breeches 
of  home-spun  besides;  two  white  sbirts  ; 
three  checked  do  ;  two  linnen  pocket-hand- 
kerchiefs,  two    pair    linnen    overalls  ; — as 


SIGNING  THE  I'LEDGE. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


397 


many  pair  of  shoes  as  are  actually  neces- 
sary for  him  ; — four  dollars  at  Christmas, 
with  ir/iick  Jte  maij  he  driatk  four  days 
and  four  nights  ;  two  dollars  at  Easter  to 
effect  the  same  j^m'pose ;  two  dollars  at 
Whitsuntide,  to  be  drunk  two  days; — a 
dram  in  the  morning  and  a  Drink  of  Grog 
at  Dinner  at  noon.'' 

The  above  is  signed  by  the  two  con- 
tracting parties,  and  witnessed  by  George 
A.  Washington  and  Tobias  Lear.  In 
another  instance,  Washington's  line  in- 
stincts and  principles  are  admirably  dis- 
played : 

"  T  shall  not  close  this  letter,"  writes 
Washington  to  one  of  his  overseers, 
''without  exhorting  you  to  refrain  from 
spirituous  liquors ;  they  will  prove  your 
ruin  if  you  do  not.  Consider  how  little  a 
drunken  man  differs  from  a  beast ;  the 
latter  is  not  endowed  with  reason,  the 
former  deprives  himself  of  it ;  and  when 
that  is  the  case,  acts  like  a  brute,  annoy- 
ing and  disturbing  every  one  around  him ; 
nor  is  this  all,  nor,  as  it  respects  himself, 
the  worst  of  it.  By  degrees  it  renders  a 
person  feeble,  and  not  only  unable  to 
serve  others,  but  to  help  himself;  and 
being  an  act  of  his  own,  he  falls  from  a 
state  of  usefulness  into  contempt,  and  at 
length  suffers,  if  not  perishes,  in  penury 
and  want.  Don't  let  this  be  your  case. 
Shew  yourself  more  of  a  man  and  a  Chris- 
ian  than  to  ^-ield  to  so  intolerable  a  vice, 
which  cannot,  I  am  certain,  (to  the  great- 
est lover  of  liquor,)  give  more  pleasure  to 
sip  in  the  poison,  (for  it  is  no  better,)  than 
the  consequence  of  it  in  bad  behavior  at 
the  moment,  and  the  more  serious  evils 
produced  by  it  afterwards  must  give  pain." 

Great  and  wonderful  were  the  results 
destined  to  flow  from  the  '  Washington 
Temperance  Society,'  thus  started  by  those 
six  inebriates  in  the  city  of  Baltimore. 
At  their  second  meeting,  they  had  two 
new  members ;  but,  in  a  comparatively 
short  time,  the  society  increased  so  much 
that  it  became  a  question  how  they  could 
employ  their  time  so  as  to  make  their 
meetings  interesting.  The  president  there- 
upon suggested  that  each  member  should 


rise  in  his  place  and  give  his  experience  ; 
and,  by  way  of  commencement,  he  arose 
and  told  wliat  he  had  passed  through  in 
the  last  fifteen  years,  and  the  advantages 
he  had  derived  from  signing  the  total- 
abstinence  pledge.  This  was  the  origin  of 
that  most  popular  and  efficient  method 
which  the  Washington  Society  and  all  its 
auxiliaries  adopted,  for  giving  interest 
and  effect  to  their  gatherings.  Signers 
were  thus  obtained,  and  the  attention  of 
the  public  was  attracted,  so  that  a  class 
was  reached  which  otherwise  might  not 
have  been  affected  by  the  labors  of  those 
other  good  men  who  had  for  so  many 
years  been  engaged  in  promoting  temper- 
ance in  a  different  way. 

By  Christmas,  in  1840,  the  reform  had 
become  so  popular,  that  thousands  had 
flocked  to  its  standard,  and  enrolled  them- 
selves as  the  friends  of  temperance.  The 
wave  had  swept  onward,  and  tidings  of  the 
great  reformation  reached  distant  cities. 
On  invitation  from  New  York,  for  a  dele- 
gation of  five  men  to  hold  experience 
meetings  twice  every  day  for  one  week,  in 
that  city,  Messrs.  Hawkins,  Pollard,  Shaw, 
Case}^,  and  Mitchell,  proceeded  to  that 
place,  and  there  held  the  first  Washing- 
tonian  missionary  temperance  meeting 
ever  known  in  the  United  States.  It  was 
a  type  of  that  success  Avhich  was  to 
accompany  this  new  system  in  behalf 
of  temperance,  for,  during  each  of  the 
speeches,  multitudes  came  forward  and 
signed  the  pledge,  and,  taken  altogether, 
such  a  scene  had  never  before  been  wit- 
nessed  in  New  York. 

But  the  most  ^lowerful  among  all  the 
advocates  of  Washingtonian  reform  was 
Mr.  Hawkins,  who  rose  from  the  very  gut- 
ter of  drunkenness  to  the  rostrum  of  im- 
l^assioned  eloquence  in  advocac}^  of  reform, 
and  with  prodigious  success.  The  pecu- 
liar circumstances  of  his  histor}^  had  an 
almost  overpowering  effect  on  his  own 
feelings,  whenever  he  sjwke,  and  his  au- 
diences listened  now  breathlessly,  and 
anon  with  uncontrollable  demonstrations 
of  enthusiasm.  He  was  a  man  of  plain, 
good  common  sense,  with  a  peculiar  sin- 


398 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


cerity  about  him,  and  an  easy  way  of 
working  up  his  hearers  to  a  state  of  sym- 
pathy with  him.  He  would  at  one  time 
assume  the  melting  mood,  and  picture  the 
scenes  of  a  drunkard's  home — and  that 
home  his  own — and  the  fountains  of  gen- 
erous feelings,  in  many  hearts,  gushed 
forth  in  tears  ;  and  again,  in  a  moment, 
as  he  related  some  ludicrous  story,  those 
tearful  eyes  glistened  with  delight,  sighs 
changed  to  hearty  shouts,  and  long  faces 
were  convulsed  with  broad  grins  and 
glorious  smiles.  Drunkards  and  outcasts 
of  the  worst  type,  that  swarm  in  the  fes- 
tering pui'lieus  and  penetralia  of  New  York, 
were  reclaimed,  and  such  was  the  over- 
whelming power  of  the  movement,  that, 
finally,  immense  meetings  were  held  in  the 
Park.  In  Boston,  too,  the  old  Cradle  of 
Liberty  rocked  with  tumultuous  enthusi- 
asm for  '  independence '  from  the  tyrant  of 
strong  drink.  Festivals,  children's  cold 
water  armies,  processions,  banners,  bands 
of  music,  songs,  etc.,  filled  tlie  whole  land 
with  the  feast  of  reason  and  the  flow  of 
soul. 

Statistics  might  be  indefinitely  pre- 
sented, showing  the  vast  results  achieved 
b}'  this  wonderful  moral  enginery.  Ui> 
wards  of  twenty-two  thovisand  names  were 
obtained  to  the  pledge  by  Messrs.  Pollard 
and  Wright,  in  a  lecturing  tour  made  by 
them  through  Central  New  York,  New 
Jersey,  and  Pennsylvania.  Messrs.  Vicars 
and  Small  and  Smith  revolutionized  Ohio 
and  the  West ;  Hawkins,  Bishop,  John- 
son, Hayes,  and  Haydock,  labored  from 
one  end  of  the  country  to  the  other.  Haw- 
kins alone,  in  less  than  twenty  years, 
traveled  more  than  two  hundred  thousand 
miles,  lecturing  between  five  and  six  thou- 
sand times.  Latham,  Madden,  Snow, 
White,  Cary,  Leigh,  Coffin,  Brown,  Riley, 
Bungay,  Copway,  Zug,  Drinkard,  Thomp- 
son, are  names  that  will  ever  be  remem- 
bered, too,  as  powerful  and  successful 
advocates  of  this  reform,  on  the  rostrum  ; 
and  those  of  Pierpont,  Burleigh,  Phillips, 
Tappan,  and  others,  by  their  stirring 
songs  and  poems.  But,  chief  and  most 
powerful    of   the    many  advocates  of    the 


temperance  reformation,  is  John  B.  Gough, 
who  has  proved  himself  in  this  arena,  a 
wonderful  orator.  His  eloquence,  indeed, 
was  of  that  electric  quality  which,  striking 
a  chord  in  every  heart  and  drawing  tears 
from  every  eye,  perfectly  swayed  the  vast 
multitudes  that  hung  upon  his  words 
wherever  he  went.  Every  city,  town,  and 
village,  throughout  the  country,  felt  the 
impress  of  his  wonderful  power  in  this 
great  reformatory  movement.  Like  Haw- 
kins, his  condition  was  humble,  but  from 
this  he  had  descended  to  the  lowest  depths 
of  social  and  personal  degradation  until 
rescued  by  the  interposition  of  a  friendly 
hand.  No  data  can  adequately  describe 
the  extent  and  value  of  his  labors  from 
that  time  forth,  for  a  quarter  of  a  century 
and  more. 

But  a  new  and  most  interesting,  as  well 
as  important  chapter,  in  the  history  of 
temperance,  is  yet  to  be  mentioned,  namely, 
the  visit  of  Father  Mathew,  the  world- 
renowned  'Apostle  of  Temperance'  in 
Ireland,  to  this  countr}',  in  1849.  For 
ten  years  previously,  he  labored  as  a  tem- 
perance agitator  and  reformer  in  Ireland 
and  England.  In  five  months,  he  obtained 
150,000  converts  in  Cork ;  and  in  Galwa}'^, 
he  administered  the  i:)ledge  to  no  less  than 
100,000  in  two  daj^s  !  On  his  landing  at 
New  York  city,  the  civil  authorities  ac- 
corded him  the  honor  of  a  jmblic  recep- 
tion,— certainly  well  deserved,  by  one  who 
had  been  the  instrument,  under  divine 
guidance,  of  reclaiming  6,000,000  of  his 
fellow-creatures.  He  visited  the  princii)al 
cities,  north  and  south,  and  everj'^where  a 
hearty  welcome  was  extended  to  him  from 
all  classes.  He  remained  several  days  in 
Washington,  where  he  was  entertained 
at  a  grand  dinner  by  the  president  of  the 
United  States,  and  received  many  dis- 
tinguishing marks  of  esteem  from  gentle- 
men highest  in  the  offices  of  the  govern- 
ment. He  was  honored,  also,  with  a  seat 
on  the  floor  of  the  house  of  representa- 
tives, and  within  the  bar  of  the  United 
States  senate.  At  Philadelphia,  he  re- 
ceived his  welcome  in  Independence  Hall  ; 
and  at  Boston,  the  doors  of  Faneuil  Hall 


GKEAT  AND  MEMOKABLE  EVENTS. 


399 


DISTINGUISHED  TEMPERANCE  ADVOCATES. 


400 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


opened  to  him  on  golden  hinges  of  accla- 
mation, and  where  he  administered  the 
pledge  to  upwards  of  four  thousand  per- 
sons the  first  day.  His  method  of  admin- 
istering the  pledge  was  somewhat  novel, 
though  at  the  same  time  quite  affecting. 
The  converts  knelt  in  a  semi-circle  around 
him,  and  repeated  the  following  words  : 

'I  promise,  with  divine  assistance,  to 
abstain  from  all  intoxicating  liquors,  cor- 
dials, cider  and  fruit  liquors,  and  to  pre- 
vent, as  much  as  possible,  intemperance  in 
others,  by  advice  and  example.' 

To  this,  Father  Mathew's  response  was, 
'  May  God  bless  you,  my  children.  May 
he  give  you  grace  and  strength  to  keep 
the  pledge.'  He  then  went  to  each  indi- 
vidual and  marlved  them  with  the  sign  of 
the  cross  ;  but  this  latter  ceremony,  and 
the  kneeling,  were  dispensed  with  in  the 
case  of  Protestants.  In  this  way,  the 
venerable  and  devoted  man  traveled  over 
almost  the  entire  country,  zealously  ad- 
vocating his  great  principles,  and  upivards 
of  six  hundred  thousand  persons  enrolled 
themselves  under  his  banner  of  total 
abstinence.  Upon  descending  the  Missis- 
sippi, he  administered  in  one  of  the  towns 
situated  on  its  banks,  the  pledge  to  seven 
hundred  persons.  He  ascended  it,  after 
an  interval  of  some  months,  and  stopping 
at  the  same  town,  he  had  the  gratification 
to  find  that  among  the  converts  there  were 
but  three  instances  of  relapse.  Though 
not  possessed  of  the  oratorical  graces  of 
eloquence,  like  those  of  Gough,  he  knew 
how  to  present  truth  with  such  force  and 
sincerity,  as  to  win  almost  irresistibly 
upon  all  hearers.  The  following  anecdote 
will  illustrate  his  peculiar  forte  : 

'Did  you  see  Father  Mathcw  lately?' 
said  one  friend  to  another,  whom  he  hap- 
pened to  meet.  '  I  did,'  was  the  reply. 
'  And  I'll  engage  he  made  you  take  the 
pledge!'  '  He  did,  indeed.  But  did  nou 
see  him  lately?'  'To  be  sure  I  did.' 
'  And  did  he  make  you  take  it  too  ? ' 
'  That  he  did  ! '  '  There's  no  escaping 
him  ;  but  I  am  not  sorry  for  it.'  '  No,  nor 
I  neither.' 

Personally,  Father  Mathew  was  a  little 


above  the  ordinary  stature,  with  a  full 
and  well-proportioned  figure,  dark  hair, 
soft  blue  eyes,  ruddy  and  healthy  com- 
plexion. 

Though  characterized  by  periods  of 
prosperity  and  declension,  the  temperance 
cause  has  proved  itself  ineradicable,  even 
under  circumstances  seemingly  the  most 
untoward.  Perhaps  the  greatest  struggle 
through  which  it  has  passed,  in  later  years, 
has  been  that  which  involved  the  enact- 
ment of  state  prohibitory  laws,  which 
visited  stringent  penalties  upon  those  who 
sold  spirituous  liquors.  The 'name  of  Neal 
Dow,  the  author  and  advocate  of  this  kind 
of  legislation,  the  discussion  attending 
which  has  been  one  of  the  most  important 
and  exciting  during  the  century,  will  for- 
ever be  identified  with  the  history  of  the 
American  temperance  reformation,  as  will 
also  the  names  of  Greeley  and  Miner,  dis- 
tinguished champions  of  the  same  prin~ 
ciple. 

It  would  be  an  easy  task  to  fill  a  whole 
volume  with  distinguished  testimonies  to 
the  value  of  temperance.  As  this,  how- 
ever, would  here  be  impossible,  a  few 
pleasant  illustrative  incidents  will  suffice 
the  purpose. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  revolutionary 
war,  an  officer  in  the  American  army  had 
occasion  to  transact  some  business  with 
General  Washington,  and  repaired  to 
Philadelphia  for  that  purpose.  Before 
leaving,  he  received  an  invitation  to  dine 
with  the  general,  which  was  accepted  and, 
upon  entering  the  room  he  found  himself 
in  the  company  of  a  large  number  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen.  As  they  were  mostly 
strangers  to  him,  and  he  was  of  a  naturally 
modest  an<l  unassuming  disposition,  he 
took  a  seat  near  the  foot  of  the  table,  and 
refrained  ivom  taking  an  active  part  in 
the  conversation.  Just  before  the  dinner 
was  concluded,  Washington  politely  re- 
quested him,  by  name,  to  drink  a  glass  of 
wine  with  him. 

'Yon  will  have  the  goodness  to  excuse 
me,  general,'  was  the  reply,  'as  I  have 
made  it  a  rule  not  to  take  wine.' 

All  eyes  were  instantly  turned  upon  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


401 


young  officer,  and  a  murmur  of  contempt 
and  surprise  ran  around  the  room.  That 
a  person  should  be  so  unsocial,  not  to  say 
mean,  as  never  to  drink  wine,  was  really 
too  bad ;  but  that  he  should  abstain  from 
it  on  an  occasion  like  that,  and  even  when 
offered  to  him  by  Washington  himself, 
was  really  intolerable  !  Washington  no- 
ticed at  once  the  feelings  of  his  guests, 
and  promptly  addressed  them  in  his  gra- 
cious and  winning  way,  saying : 

'  Gentlemen,   Mr. is   right.      I   do 

not  Avish  any  of  my  guests  to  partake 
of  anything  ::igainst  their  inclination, 
and  I  certainly  do  not  wish  them  to 
violate  any  established  principle  in  their 

intercourse  with  me.      I  honor  Mr. for 

his  frankness,  for  his  consistency  in  thus 
adhering  to  an  established  rule  which  can 
never  do  him  harm,  and  for  the  adoption 
of  which,  I  have  no  doubt,  he  has  good 
reasons.' 

General  Taylor,  the  hero  of  the  Mexi- 
can war,  always  gave  the  weight  of  his 
example  in  favor  of  temperance.  A  trav- 
eler in  the  west  one  day  encountered  an 
emigrant  journeying  with  his  family  to 
the  fertile  regions  beyond  the  Mississippi, 
all  his  worldly  goods  being  packed  on 
wagons,  and  on  one  load  there  hung  a 
huge  jug  with  the  bottom  broken  out. 
The  emigrant  was  asked  his  reason  for 
carrying  that  with  him.     '  Why,'  he  said, 


'that  is  my  Taylor  jug.'  'And  what  is  a 
Taylor  jug  ? '  inquired  the  friend.  '  W'hy,' 
said  the  emigrant,  '  I  had  a  son  with  Gen- 
eral Taylor's  army  in  Mexico,  and  the  old 
general  always  told  him  to  carry  his  whis- 
key-jug with  a  hole  in  the  bottom  ;  and 
since  that,  I  have  carried  my  jug  as  you 
see  it,  and  I  find  it  is  the  best  invention  I 
ever  met  with.' 

Everybody  admired  Admiral  Earragut's 
heroism  in  clinging  to  the  topmast  to 
direct  a  battle ;  but  there  was  another 
particular  of  that  contest,  illustrating  no 
less  forcibly  his  heroic  character.  '  Ad- 
miral,' said  one  of  his  officers,  the  night 
before  the  battle,  '  won't  you  consent  to 
give  Jack  a  glass  of  grog  in  the  morning, 
not  enough  to  make  him  drunk,  but  enough 
to  make  him  fight  cheerfully  ? '  '  Well,' 
replied  the  admiral,  '  I  have  been  to  sea 
considerably,  and  have  seen  a  battle  or 
two,  but  I  never  found  that  I  wanted  rum 
to  enable  me  to  do  my  duty.  I  will  order 
two  cups  of  coffee  to  each  man,  at  two 
o'clock  ;  and,  at  eight  o'clock,  I  will  pipe 
all  hands  to  breakfast,  in  Mobile  bay,' 
And  he  did  give  Jack  the  coffee ;  and 
then  he  went  up  to  the  mast-head,  and  the 
result  is  well  known. 

These  illustrations  of  devotedness  to  the 
principle  of  temperance  in  high  places 
might  be  greatly  multiplied.  Their  value 
to  the  cause  can  hardly  be  overestimated. 


26 


XLY. 

FREMONT'S  PIEROIO  EXPEDITION  OF  DISCOVERY  TO 

THE  UNTRACKED  REGION  OF  THE  NORTH-WEST, 

OREGON,  CALIFORNIA,   ETC.— 1842. 


His  Exploration 
South  Pass. — 
Every  Branch 


^';W 


of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  and  of  that  Wonderful  Gateway  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  the 
Plants  the  American  Flag  on  the  Higiiest  Peak  of  that  Lofty  Range. — He  Enriches 
of  Natural  Science,  and  Illustrates  a  Remote  and  Boundless  Country  Before  Entirely 

Unknown. — Fremont,  a  Pioneer  of  P2mpire. — National  Objects 
cf  this  Tour  — Enchanting  Record  of  Adventure. — Surveys 
and  Researches. — Humboldt's  Tribute  of  Admiration. — Wild 
Grandeur  of  the  Route. — Scenes  in  this  Vast  Domain. — The 
Rocky  Mountains  :  First  Glimpses. — Formation  of  the  South 
Pass. — "  Kit  Carson,"  the  Intrepid  Guide. — At  the  Topmost 
Peak,  14,000  Feet —Startling  Boldness  of  the  View.— Over- 
powering Quiet  and  Solitude. — Evidences  of  Awful  Convul- 
sions.— Unfurling  the  Flag  of  the  Union. — Appearance  of 
Great  Salt  Lake. — Eternal  Snows  of  the  Sierra  Nevada. — In 
the  San  Joaquin  Valley. — An  Immense  Circuit  of  Travel  — 
Fremont,  the  Modern  Pathfinder. — Honors  from  His  Country- 
men.— A  King's  Gift  and  Regards. 


"Prominently  deservinR  of  distinguifhed  recognition  is  the  service  rendered  to 
geoeiaphicul  science  by  the  American  explorer,  fremont."  —  KiNO  Fbeoeric 
William  IV.,  of  Prussia,  to  BAKo^  Himboldt. 


VERY  American  reader  is  enchanted  with  the  narrative  of 
El:pLoRI^uTUE^uKiu-wJisT.  those  intrepid  and  heroic  explorations  of  Fremont,  "the 
Pathfinder,"  which,  in  the  language  of  Humboldt,  —  himself  the  greatest  scientific 
explorer  and  geographer  the  world  has  ever  seen, — "  enriched  every  branch  of  natural 
science,  and  illustrated  a  vast  country  before  entirely''  unknown,"  and  in  appreciation 
of  which  he  received  from  his  admiring  countrymen  the  highest  tokens  of  honor,  and, 
from  kingly  hands,  acknowledgments  inscribed  on  tablets  of  gold. 

Several  exploring  tours  of  the  western  portion  of  our  continent,  within  the  geograph- 
ical boundaries  of  the  country  subsequently  known  by  the  title  of  Oregon,  took  place 
before  that  which  was  led  by  the  brave  Fremont,  but  none  with  such  rich  and  varied 
results  as  the  latter. 

It  being  desirable  for  our  government  to  become  fully  acquainted  with  the  character 
of  the  vast  territory  between  the  southern  geographical  boundary  of  the  United  States 
and  the  Rocky  Mountains,  around  the  head-waters  of  the  Missouri,  Fremont  was 
appointed  to  superintend  that  exploring  tour,  under  the  direction  of  Colonel  Abert, 
the  chief  of    the   topographical    bureau  at  Washington,  and   by  him   projected   and 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


403 


planned,  with  the  approval  of  Secretary 
Poinsett.  The  great  object  of  this  expe- 
dition was  to  examine  and  report  upon  the 
rivers  and  country  between  the  frontiers 
of  Missouri  and  the  base  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains  ;  and  especially  to  examine  the 
character,  and  ascertain  the  latitude  and 
longitude  of  that  wonderful  gatewaj/,  the 
South  Pass,  the  great  crossing  place  to 
these  mountains  on  the  way  to  Oregon. 

In  executing  his  official  instructions, 
Fremont  proceeded  up  the  Kansas  river 
far  enough  to  ascertain  its  peculiar  feat- 
ures, and  then  crossed  over  to  the  Great 
Platte,  and  pursued  that  river  to  its  source 
in  the  mountains,  where  the  Sweet  Water 
—  a  head  branch  of  the  Platte — issues 
from  the  neighborhood  of  the  South  Pass. 
He  reached  the  Pass  on  the  eighth  of 
August,  and  found  it  to  be  a  wide  and  low 
depression  of  the  mountains,  of  very  easy 
ascent,  and  where  a  plainly  beaten  wagon 
load  leads  to  the  Oregon  through  the  valley 
of  Lewis's  river,  a  fork  of  the  Columbia. 
He  went  through  the  Pass,  and  saw  the 
head-waters  of  the  Colorado,  of  the  Gulf 
of  California  ;  and,  leaving  the  valleys  to 
indulge  a  laudable  curiosity,  and  to  make 
some  useful  observations,  Fremont,  at- 
tended by  four  of  his  men,  climbed  the 
loftiest  peak  of  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
until  then  untrodden  by  any  known  human 
being ;  and,  on  the  fifteenth  of  August, 
looked  down  upon  ice  and  snow  some  thou- 
sand feet  below,  and  traced  in  the  distance 
the  valleys  of  the  rivers  which,  taking 
their  rise  in  the  same  elevated  ridge,  flow 
in  opposite  directions  to  the  Pacific  ocean 
and  to  the  Mississippi.  From  that  ultimate 
point  he  returned  by  the  valley  of  the 
Great  Platte,  following  the  stream  in  its 
whole  course,  and  solving  all  questions  in 
relation  to  its  navigability,  and  the  feat- 
ures of  the  country  through  which  it  flows. 

On  the  prairies  which  border  the  forks 
of  the  river  Platte,  the  travelers  bivou- 
acked in  the  evening,  eating  their  meat 
with  a  good  relish  ;  for  they  were  all  in  fine 
health,  and  had  ridden  nearly  all  of  a  long 
summer's  day,  with  a  burning  sun  reflected 
from  the  sands. 


When  about  sixty  miles  distant,  the 
party  caught  the  first  faint  glimpse  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  Though  a  tolerably 
bright  day,  there  was  a  slight  mist,  and 
tlie  snowy  summit  of  '  Long's  Peak,' 
showing  like  a  small  cloud  near  the  hori- 
zon, was  just  barely  discernible.  There 
was,  however,  no  mistake  in  distinguishing 
it,  there  being  a  perceptible  difference 
in  its  appearance  from  the  white  clouds 
that  were  floating  about  the  sky. 

Proceeding  onward  through  hostile 
tribes  of  Indians,  Fremont  reached  the 
first  militar3'  frontier  post — Fort  Laramie; 
departing  thence,  in  a  short  time,  for  the 
bases  of  the  "  great  mountains."  With 
the  change  in  the  geological  formation  on 
leaving  Fort  Laramie,  the  whole  face  of  the 
country  appears  entirely  changed.  East- 
ward of  the  meridian,  the  principal  objects 
which  strike  the  eye  of  the  traveler  are 
the  absence  of  timber,  and  the  immense 
expanse  of  prairie,  covered  with  the  verd- 
ure of  rich  grasses,  and  highly  adapted 
for  pasturage.  Wherever  they  are  not 
disturbed  by  the  vicinity  of  man,  large 
herds  of  buffalo  give  animation  to  this 
country. 

Many  sufferings  were  endured  in  reach- 
ing the  Rocky  Mountains,  but  the  follow^ 
ing  details  show  that  the  labors  of  the 
party  were  amply  rewarded.  About  six 
miles  from  their  encampment  brought  the 
party  to  the  summit  of  the  South  Pass. 
The  ascent  had  been  so  gradual,  that,  with 
all  the  intimate  knowledge  possessed  by 
Carson,  the  guide,  and  who  had  made  that 
country  his  home  for  seventeen  years,  the 
party  were  obliged  to  watch  very  closely 
to  find  the  place  at  which  they  had  reached 
the  culminating  point.  This  was  between 
two  low  hills,  rising  on  either  hand  fifty 
or  sixty  feet.  From  the  broken  ground 
where  this  pass  commences,  at  the  foot  of 
the  Wind  River  Chain,  the  view  to  the 
south-east  is  over  a  champaign  country, 
broken,  at  the  distance  of  nineteen  miles, 
by  the  Table  Rock,  which,  with  the  other 
isolated  hills  in  its  vicinity,  seemingly 
stands  on  a  comparative  plain.  The 
'  Pass '  in  no  manner  resembles  the  places 


404 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


to  which  that  term  is  commonly  applied — 
nothing  of  the  gorge-like  character  and 
winding  ascents  of  the  Alleghany  passes 
in  America,  nor  of  the  great  St.  Bernard 
and  Siniplon  passes  in  Europe.  Approach- 
ing from  the  mouth  of  the  Sweet  Water,  a 
sandy  plain,  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles 
long,  conducts,  by  a  gradual  and  regular 
ascent,  to  the  summit,  about  seven  thou- 
sand feet  above  the  sea ;  and  the  traveler, 
without  being  reminded  of  any  change, 
by  toilsome  ascents,  suddenly  finds  him- 
self on  the  waters  which  flow  to  the  Pacific 
ocean.  On  this  short  mountain-chain  are 
the  head-waters  of  four  great  rivers  of  the 
western  continent,  namely,  the  Colorado, 
Columbia,  Missouri,  and  Platte  rivers. 


1  I'LANTING  AMERICAN  FLAG  ON  THK 
ROCKY  MOUNTAINS,  BY  FREMONT. 

A  scene  of  characteris- 
tic adventure  was  that  of 
reaching  the  summit  of 
these  mountains.  Putting 
hands  and  feet  in  the  crev- 
ii-es  between  the  blocks, 
Eremont  succeeded  in  get- 


ting over  it,  and,  on  attaining  the  top, 
found  his  companions  in  a  small  valley 
below.  Descending  to  them,  they  con- 
tinued climbing,  and  in  a  short  time 
reached  the  crest.  He  sprang  upon  the 
summit,  and  unfurled  the  national  flag  to 
wave  in  the  breeze  tvhere  never  flag  waved 
before. 

During  the  morning's  ascent,  no  sign 
of  animal  life  was  met  with,  except  a  small 
sparrow-like  bird.  A  stillness  the  most 
profound  and  a  solitude  the  most  terrible 
forced  themselves  constantly  on  the  mind 
as  the  great  features  of  the  place.  Here, 
on  the  summit,  where  the  stillness  was  ab- 
solute, unbroken  by  any  sound,  and  the 
solitude  complete,  the  explorers  thought 
themselves  beyond  the  region  of  animated 
life ;  but,  while  they  Avere  sitting  on  the 
rock,  a  solitary  humble-bee  came  winging 
his  flight  from  the  eastern  valley,  and  lit 
on  the  knee  of  one  of  the  men.  It  was  a 
strange  place,  the  icy  rock  and  the  highest 
peak  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  for  a  lover 
of  warm  sunshine  and  flowers.  The 
barometer  stood  at  18.293,  the  attached 
thermometer  at  44  degrees ;  giving  for 
the  elevation  of  this  summit  13,570  feet 
above  the  sea,  it  may  be  called  the  highest 
known  flight  of  the  bee.  Erom  this  pre- 
sumed loftiest  peak  of  the  great  mountain 
range, — since  known  as  Eremont's  Peak, — 
could  be  seen  innumerable  lakes  and 
sti-eams,  the  spring  of  the  Colorado  of  the 
Gulf  of  California,  on  the  one  side  ;  on  the 
other,  Avas  the  Wind  River  valley,  where 
were  the  heads  of  the  Yellow  Stone  branch 
of  the  Missouri ;  far  to  the  north  could  be 
faintly  descried  the  snowy  heads  of  the 
Trois  Tetons,  where  were  the  sources  of 
the  Missouri  and  Columbia  rivers  ;  and  at 
the  southern  extremity  of  the  ridge,  the 
peaks  were  plainly  visible,  among  which 
were  some  of  the  springs  of  the  Nebraska, 
or  Platte  river.  The  whole  scene  around 
had  one  main  striking  feature,  which  was 
that  of  terrible  ronvulsion.  Parallel  to 
its  length,  the  ridge  was  split  into  chasms 
and  fissures  ;  between  which  rose  the  thin 
lofty  Avails,  terminated  with  slender  mina- 
rets and  columns. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


405 


Fremont's  next  tour  was  devoted  to 
Oregon  and  California.  On  arriving  at 
tlie  Utali  lake,  he  had  completed  an 
immense  circuit  of  twelve  degrees  diame- 


ter north  and  south,  and  ten  degrees  east 
and  Avest.  They  found  themselves  in 
May,  1844,  on  the  same  sheet  of  water 
which  they  had  left  in  September,  1843. 
The  Utah  is  the  southern  limb  of  the 
Great  Salt  Lake ;  and  thus  they  had  seen 
this  remarkable  sheet  of  water  both  at  its 
northern  and  southern  extremity,  and  were 
able  to  fix  its  position  at  these  two  points. 
In  this  eight  months  circuit,  the  exjilorers 
found  that  the  mountains  on  the  Pacific 
slope  are  higher,  more  numerous,  and  more 
distinctly  defined  in  their  ranges  and 
directions,  than  those  on  the  Atlantic  side ; 
and,  what  is  contrary  to  the  natural  order 
of  such  formations,  one  of  these  ranges, 
which  is  near  the  coast — the  Sierra  Nevada 
and  the  Coast  Range  —  presents  higher 
elevations  and  peaks  than  any  which  are 
to  be  found  in  the  Rocky  Mountains  them- 
selves. During  all  this  circuit,  the  party 
were  never  out  of  sight  of  snow;  and  the 
Sierra  Nevada,  where  they  crossed  it,  was 
nearly  two  thousand  feet  higher  than  the 
famous  South  Pass.  Peaks  are  constantly 
seen  which  enter  the  region  of  eternal 
snow. 

Differing  so  much   from   the   Atlantic 


side  of  our  continent  in  coast,  mountains, 
and  rivers,  the  Pacific  side  differs  from  it 
in  yet  another  most  rare  and  singular 
feature — that  of  the  Great  Interior  Basin. 
The  structure  of  the  country  would  require 
this  formation  of  interior  lakes,  for  tlic 
waters  which  would  collect  between  the 
Rocky  Mountains  and  the  Sierra  Nevada, 
not  being  able  to  cross  this  formidable 
barrier,  nor  to  get  to  the  Columbia  or  the 
Colorado,  must  naturally  collect  into  reser- 
voirs, each  of  which  would  have  its  little 
S3'stem  of  streams  and  rivers  to  supply  it. 
The  Great  Salt  Lake  is  a  formation  of  this 
kind,  and  quite  a  large  one,  having  many 
streams,  and  one  considerable  river,  four 
or  live  hundred  miles  long,  falling  into  it. 
Fremont  saw  this  lake  and  river,  and 
examined  them  ;  he  also  saw  the  Wahsatch 
and  Bear  River  mountains  inclosing  the 
waters  of  the  lake  on  the  east,  and  consti- 
tute, in  that  quarter,  the  rim  of  the  Great 
Basin.  Afterwards,  along  the  eastern 
base  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  where  the  party 
traveled  for  forty-two  days,  they  saw  the 
line  of  lakes  and  rivers  which  lie  at  the 
foot  of  that  sierra,  and  which  sierra  is  the 
western  rim  of  the  basin.  In  going  down 
Lewis's  Fork,  and  the  main  Columbia,  they 
crossed  only  inferior  streams  coming  in 
from  the  left ;  and  often  saw  the  mountains 
at  their  heads,  white  with  snow,  which 
divided  the  waters  of  the  desert  from  those 
of  the  Columbia, — the  range  of  mountains 
forming  the  rim  of  the  basin  on  its  north- 
ern side.  In  returning  from  California 
along  the  Spanish  trail,  as  far  as  the  head 
of  the  Santa  Clara  Fork  of  the  Rio  Virgen, 
the  party  crossed  only  small  streams 
making  their  way  south  to  the  Colorado, 
or  lost  in  sand,  as  the  Mo-hah-ve  ;  while 
to  the  left,  lofty  mountains,  their  summits 
white  with  snow,  were  often  visible — and 
which,  Fremont  concluded,  must  have 
turned  water  to  the  north  as  well  as  to  the 
south,  thus  constituting,  on  this  part,  the 
southern  rim  of  the  basin.  At  the  head 
of  the  Santa  Clara  Fork,  and  in  the  Vegas 
de  Santa  Clara,  the}^  crossed  the  ridge 
which  parted  the  two  systems  of  waters. 
They  entered  the  basin  at  that  point,  and 


406 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


continued  for  some  time  to  travel  in  it, 
having  its  south-eastern  rim — the  Wah- 
satch  mountain — on  tlie  right,  and  cross- 
ing the  streams  which  flow  down  into  it. 

In  this  eventful  exploration,  all  the 
great  features  of  the  western  slope  of  our 
continent  were  brought  to  light  —  the 
Great  Salt  Lake,  the  Utah  Lake,  the  Little 
Salt  Lake — at  all  which  places,  then  desert, 
the  Mormons  now  are  ;  the  Sierra  Nevada, 
then  solitary  in  the  snow,  now  crowded 
with  Americans,  digging  gold  from  its 
banks  ;  the  beautiful  valleys  of  the  Sacra- 
mento and  San  Joaquin,  then  alive  with 
wild  horses,  elk,  deer,  and  wild  fowls,  now 
smiling  with  American  cultivation.  The 
Great  Basin  itself,  and  its  contents;  the 
three  Parks;  the  approximation  of  the 
great  rivers  which,  rising  together  in  the 
central  region  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  go 
off  east  and  west  towards  the  rising  and 
the  setting  sun,  —  all  these,  and  other 
strange  features  of  a  new  region,  more 
Asiatic  than  American,   were  brought   to 


It  was  in  May,  1845,  that  Fremont  set 
out  on  his  third  expedition  for  the  explora- 
tion of  the  Great  West,  and  he  was  soon 
at  the  north  end  of  the  great  Tla-math 
lake,  and  in  Oregon.  Hostilities  being 
likely  to  break  out  between  the  United 
States  and  Mexico,  Fremont,  in  order  to 
avoid  exciting  any  unjust  suspicion  as  to 
the  character  of  his  movements,  obtained 
leave  of  the  Mexican  general  at  Monterey, 
to  encamp  during  the  ensuing  winter,  in 
the  San  Joaquin  valle3\  It  was  not  long, 
however,  before  open  diplomatic  hostilities 
broke  out  between  the  two  republics,  and 
Fremont  received  word  from  his  govern- 
ment to  keep  an  eye  upon  Mexican  and 
other  designs  upon  California.  General 
Kearney,  by  order  of  government,  was 
constituted  head  of  the  army  of  the  west, 
which  was  to  retaliate  sternly  upon 
Mexico,  for  her  assumed  aggressions. 
New  Mexico  was  soon  prostrate  .before 
American  arms.  On  the  fifth  of  July, 
1846,  under  the  lead  of  Fremont,  a  band 


FREMONT  ON   HIS  GHKAT   EXPLORING  TOUR  TO  THE  FAR  WEST  AND  ROCKY  MOUNTAINS. 


light  and  revealed  to  public  view  in  the 
results  of  this  exploration.  But  the  great 
pathfinder  was  to  win  laurels  in  still 
another  field. 


of  Americans  declared  their  independence 
of  Mexico  at  Sonoma,  a  small  town  near 
San  Francisco,  and,  not  long  after,  they 
joined  Commodore  Sloat,  who  had  recently 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


407 


reduced  Monterey.  The  successor  of  Sloat 
was  Stockton,  who,  in  connection  with 
Fremont,  at  once  gained  possession  of 
Ciudad  de  los  Angelos,  the  capital  of 
Upper  California;  and  one  event  speedily 
succeeded  another,  until,  seemingly  as 
inevitable  as  the  gravitation  of  fate,  the 
loss  of  California  was  consummated,  and 
Fi'emont  was  appointed  governor  of  the 
territory,  which,  largely  through  his  efforts, 
had  now  become  a  permanent  possession 
of  the  United  States. 

So  curious  a  link  in  this  chain  of  events, 
as  the  throwing  off  of  the  Mexican  yoke 
at  Sonoma,  and  illustrating  so  aptly,  as  it 
does,  the  intrepidity  of  the  great  explorer, 
possesses  an  interest  peculiarly  appropriate 
to  this  narrative.  Having  aided  in  clear- 
ing the  enemy  from  the  country  north  of 
the  bay  of  San  Francisco,  Fremont  re- 
turned to  Sonoma  on  the  evening  of  the 
fourth  of  July,  and,  on  the  morning  of  the 
fifth,  called  the  people  together,  explained 
to  them  the  condition  of  things  in  the 
province,  and  recommended  an  immediate 
declaration  of  independence.  The  declar- 
ation was  made,  and  he  was  selected  as 
governor,  or  chief  director  of  affairs. 

From  Sonoma  to  Yerba  Buena,  (says 
one  who  accompanied  him,)  the  little 
hamlet  where  now  stands  the  queen  city 
of  the  Pacific,  Fremont  augmented  his 
stock  of  horses  to  the  number  of  fifteen 
hundred,  completely  clearing  the  country; 
and  then  commenced  one  of  the  most  pecu- 
liar races  for  a  fight  ever  probably  known. 
Rarely  speaking  but  to  urge  on  his  men, 
or  to  question  some  passing  native,  taking 
the  smallest  modicum  of  refreshment,  and 
watching  while  others  snatched  a  moment's 
repose,  was  he  wrapped  up  in  his  project 
and  determined  to  have  some  of  the  fight. 
Through  San  Pablo,  and  Monterey,  and 


Josepha,  they  dashed  like  the  phantom 
riders  of  the  Hartz  mountains,  startling 
the  inhabitants,  and  making  the  night- 
watcher  cross  himself  in  terror  as  their 
band  flew  on.  The  river  Sacrificios  was 
reached;  swollen  by  the  rains,  it  rolled  on, 
a  rapid,  muddy  stream  ;  his  men  paused. 

'^Forward /  Forward / '^  cried  Fremont. 

Dashing  in  himself,  the  struggle  is  a 
fierce  one,  but  his  gallant  mustang  breasts 
the  current,  and  he  reaches  the  opposite 
shore  in  safety;  his  men  after  a  time  join 
him,  two  brave  fellows  finding  a  watery 
grave,  and  many  horses  being  carried  down 
the  stream  ;  but  nothing  can  now  stop 
him — the  heights  adjacent  to  the  Puebla 
appear — 7iow  a  smile  might  be  seen  on  the 
imperturbable  visage  of  the  leader — 'tis  the 
sixth  day,  and  the  goal  is  won  ! 

With  ninety  men  on  the  last  of  his  car- 
avan of  horses,  he  fell  like  a  thunderbolt 
on  the  rear  of  the  Mexicans.  The  day 
was  with  them ;  the  little  band  of  stout 
hearts  guarding  the  presidio,  taken  by 
surprise,  and  not  having  the  advantage  of 
the  Mexicans  in  regard  to  horses,  were 
beginning  to  waver.  But  cheer  up,  cheer 
asrain — succor  is  at  hand.  On  come  those 
riders  of  Fremont — nothing  can  withstand 
their  shock.  With  shouts  of  triumph  they 
change  the  battle  to  a  rout.  The  field  is 
won !  The  rout  of  the  enemy  was  com- 
plete, and  so  ended  the  ride  of  the  one 
hundred.  Thus  did  Fremont  display,  by 
the  rarest  achievements,  the  character  of 
a  consummate  scientific  explorer  and  brave 
soldier;  and,  for  his  pre-eminent  services 
in  behalf  of  geographical  science,  he 
received  the  highest  honors  from  the 
learned  societies  of  Europe  and  America, 
and  a  rich  and  massive  gold  medal  from 
the  king  of  Prussia,  through  the  hands  of 
Baron  Humboldt. 


XLYI. 

REBELLION   IN   RHODE   ISLAND,  UNDER    THOMAS   W. 

DORR.— 1842. 


Dissatisfaction  with  the  Old  Restricted  Charter  Granted  by  King  Charles. — Popular  SuflFrage  and  Equal 
Political  Privileges  Demanded. — Resistance  of  the  Party  in  Power  to  these  Movements. — The  Con- 
testants Arm  and  Take  the  Field. — Defeat  of  the  Agitators  and  Flight  of  Dorr. — Ultimate  Prevalence 
of  their  Principles. — A  Cliarter  Two  Hundred  Years  Old. — Its  Monarchical  Provisions. — SuflFrage 
for  Property  Holders. — Denied  to  all  Others. — An  Exclusive  Legislature. — Reformed  Measures 
Demanded. — A  People's  Convention  Called. — They  Form  a  Constitution. — Proclaimed  the  Supreme 
Law. — Legislature  Chosen  under  It. — Thomas  W.  Dorr  Elected  Governor. — Is  Treated  as  a  Traitor. — 
Claims  to  be  the  People's  Man. — Governor  King's  Military  Activity. — Dorr  Heads  a  Large  Force. — 
Tries  to  Seize  the  Reins  of  Power. — Is  Routed  :  Quits  the  State. — Returns  Again  to  the  Conflict. — 
Entrenches  at  Chepachet :  Retreats. — Tried  for  Treason  and  Imprisoned. — Pardoned  and  Restored. 
— Something  about  "  Barn-burning,"  or  the  Anti-Rent  Insurrection  in  New  York. 


"  All  political  government  should  be  instituted  for  the  good  of  the  whole  in  general,  and  of  every  individual  in  particular."— Ess ats  on 
Government. 


"CHAKTEU"  vs.  "CONSTITUTION.' 


HARTER  rights,  granted  by  a  king,  constituted  the  charter 
of  the  political  institutions  of  Rhode  Island,  for  nearly  two 
hundred  years.  This  charter,  received  from  Charles  the 
Second,  in  1663,  was  the  fundamental  law,  and,  down  to  the 
year  1841,  no  person  had  been  allowed  to  vote  for  town  or 
state  officers,  unless  possessed  of  a  certain  amount  of  real 
estate.  Under  a  subsequent  statute  of  the  legislature,  based 
upon  the  spirit  of  the  charter,  no  person  could  be  admitted  a 
freeman  of  any  town,  with  full  political  privileges,  unless  he 
owned  a  freehold  estate  of  the  value  of  one  hundred  and 
thirty-four  dollars,  or  was  the  eldest  son  of  such  a  freeholder;  and  thus,  only  about  one- 
third  of  all  the  citizens  of  the  state  were  legal  voters. 

At  the  January  session  of  the  legislature  in  1841,  a  petition,  signed  by  five  or  six 
hundred  male  inhabitants,  praying  for  an  extension  of  the  right  of  suffrage,  was  pre- 
sented. Influenced  by  that  petition,  as  well  as  by  other  considerations,  the  legislature 
requested  the  qualified  voters,  or  freemen,  as  they  were  called,  to  choose  delegates  at 
the  August  town-meetings,  for  a  convention,  to  be  held  the  ensuing  November,  to  frame 
a  written  constitution.  This  convention  was  duly  held,  and  the  result  of  its  labors, 
completed  in  1842,  was  the  instrument  commonly  known  as  the  Landholders^  Consti- 
tution, and  which  was  formally  submitted  to  the  people. 

The  friends  of  the  constitution  thus  framed,  in  their  statement  of  affairs  to  the 
chief  magistrate  of  the  nation,  state  that,  in  May,  1841,  after  said  legal  convention 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


409 


had  been  provided  for  by  the  legislature, 
and  before  the  time  appointed  for  the 
choice  of  delegates  by  the  qualified  voters, 
a  mass  meeting  was  held  by  the  friends  of 
the  extension  of  suffrage,  at  Newport,  at 
which  meeting  a  committee  was  appointed, 
called  the  state  committee,  who  were 
authorized  by  said  mass  meeting,  to  take 
measures  for  calling  a  convention  to  frame 
a  constitution.  This  committee,  thus 
authorized,  issued  the  request  for  a  meet- 
ing of  the  male  citizens  in  the  several 
towns,  to  appoint  delegates  to  the  proposed 
convention. 

Thus  called  together,  the  convention 
assembled  in  Providence,  in  October,  1841, 
and  the  instrument  called  the  Peojyie's 
Constitution  was  the  result  of  their  delib- 
erations. At  subsequent  meetings  of  por- 
tions of  the  people,  in  December,  1811,  by 
the  authority  of  this  convention,  all  males 
over  twenty-one  years  of  age  were  admitted 
to  vote  for  the  adoption  of  the  people's 
constitution ;  these  meetings  not  being — 
according  to  the  view  held  by  the  laud- 
holders'  party, — under  presiding  officers 
whose  legal  duty  or  legal  right  it  was  to 
interpose  any  check  or  restraint  as  to  age, 
residence,  property,  or  color. 

By  the  provisions  of  the  people's  consti- 
tution, it  was  ordained  that  said  instru- 
ment should  be  submitted  to  the  people, 
for  adoption  or  rejection,  on  the  twenty- 
seventh  of  December,  and  on  the  two  suc- 
ceeding days.  And  it  was  also  provided, 
that  '  every  person  entitled  to  vote  as  afore- 
said, who,  from  sickness,  or  other  causes, 
may  be  unable  to  attend  and  vote  in  the 
town  or  ward  meetings  assembled  for  vot- 
ing upon  said  constitution,  on  the  days 
aforesaid,  is  requested  to  write  his  name 
on  a  ticket,  and  to  obtain  the  signature 
upon  the  back  of  the  same  of  a  person  who 
has  given  in  his  vote,  as  a  witness  thereto. 
And  the  moderator  or  clerk  of  any  town 
or  ward  meeting,  convened  for  the  pur- 
pose aforesaid,  shall  receive  such  vote  on 
either  of  the  three  days  next  succeeding 
the  three  days  before  named  for  voting  for 
said  constitution.'  During  the  first  three 
days,    about     nine    thousand    votes    were 


received  from  the  hands  of  the  voters  in 
the  open  town-meetings;  and,  by  the 
privilege  thus  granted  to  every  and  all  the 
friends  of  the  constitution,  of  bringing 
into  their  meetings  the  names  of  voters 
during  the  three  following  days,  five  thou- 
sand more  votes  were  obtained,  making 
an  aggregate  of  about  fourteen  thousand 
votes. 

This  constitution,  thus  originating  and 
thus  formed,  was  subsequently  declared  by 
the  convention  to  be  the  supreme  law  of 
the  land ;  and,  by  its  provisions,  a  govern- 
ment was  to  be  organized  under  it,  by  the 
choice  of  a  governor,  lieutenant-governor, 
senators  and  representatives,  on  the  Mon- 
day preceding  the  third  Wednesday  in 
April,  1842. 

By  the  provisions  of  the  landholders' 
constitution,  as  it  was  called,  every  white 
male  native  citizen,  possessing  the  free- 
hold qualification,  and  over  twenty-one 
years  of  age,  could  vote,  upon  a  residence 
of  one  year ;  or,  without  any  freehold, 
could  vote,  upon  a  residence  of  two  years, 
except  in  the  case  of  votes  for  town-taxes, 
in  which  case  the  voter  was  required  to 
possess  the  freehold  qualification,  or  be 
taxed  for  other  property  of  the  value  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 

By  the  people's  constitution,  every  white 
male  citizen  of  the  United  States,  of  the 
age  of  twenty-one  years,  who  had  resided 
in  the  state  for  one  year,  and  in  the  town 
where  he  votes  for  six  months,  should  be 
permitted  to  vote, — with  the  same  excep- 
tion in  regard  to  voting  for  town-taxes,  as 
that  contained  in  the  other  constitution. 

On  the  twenty-first,  twenty-second,  and 
twenty-third  of  March,  the  landholders' 
constitution  w^as,  by  an  act  of  the  legisla- 
ture, submitted  to  all  the  persons  who,  by 
its  provisions,  would  be  entitled  to  vote 
under  it,  after  its  adoption,  for  their  ratifi- 
cation. It  was  rejected  by  a  majority  of 
six  hundred  and  seventy-six;  the  whole 
number  of  votes  polled,  during  these  three 
exciting  days,  was  over  sixteen  thousand. 

The  people's  constitution,  on  being  sub- 
mitted to  the  people  for  ratification, 
received    fourteen    thousand    votes,     the 


410 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


returns  being  counted  and  the  result 
declared  in  January,  1842 ;  and,  the  land- 
holders' constitution  having  been  defeated, 
there  was  now  presented  the  single  issue 
of  the  old  charter  of  1663  on  the  one  hand, 
and  the  suffrage  constitution,  just  adojjted, 
as  claimed,  by  the  poj)ular  vote,  on  the 
other.  Great  enthusiasm  was  manifested 
by  the  triumph  which  they  and  their  cause 
had  achieved,  and  meetings  and  proces- 
sions, with  music,  badges,  bonfires,  etc., 
everywhere   proclaimed  the  event. 

Chief  among  the  leaders  in  this  remark- 
able revolution,  as  it  was  termed,  was 
Thomas    Wilson    Dorr,  of    Providence,  a 


CX>k:.^^. 


graduate  of  Harvard  College,  and  who, 
after  pursuing  his  legal  studies  in  the  office 
of  Chancellor  Kent,  of  New  York,  com- 
menced his  professional  practice  in  Provi- 
dence. Though  for  years  a  federalist  in 
his  political  principles,  he  in  time  identi- 
fied himself  with  the  victorious  party 
whose  leaders  were  Jackson  and  Van 
Buren.  Of  decided  ability,  Mr.  Dorr  was, 
for  several  consecutive  terms,  elected  a 
member  of  the  state  legislature,  and,  in  this 
capacity,  he  repeatedly  proposed  measures 
for  extending  the  privilege  of  suffrage  and 
other   rights    of   citizenship.     Failing   in 


this,  and  possessing  great  activity  and 
adroitness  as  a  politician,  he  appealed  to 
the  masses,  and  was  soon  the  cherished 
leader  of  a  large  and  enthusiastic  party. 

Governor  King  issued  his  proclamation, 
pronouncing  the  movement  of  the  suffrage 
party  treasonable,  and  warning  all  of  the 
consequences  which  a  continuance  in  such 
acts  would  bring  upon  them. 

Undismayed,  however,  by  these  threats, 
the  suffrage  party,  presuming  on  its 
strength  and  popularity,  went  into  an 
election  of  state  officers,  April  eighteenth, 
1842,  resulting  in  the  elevation  of  Mr.  Dorr 
to  the  governorship,  together  with  the 
other  officers  constituting  the  government 
of  the  state.  The  seal  of  the  state  was 
copied,  and  a  fac  simile  engraving  pro- 
cured. Orders,  in  the  form  of  requests, 
were  issued  to  the  military  in  Providence 
and  elsewhere,  which  adhered  to  the  new 
order  of  things,  to  appear  in  the  city  on 
the  fourth  of  May,  to  perform  escort  duty 
on  the  occasion  of  organizing  the  new 
government. 

On  the  day  appointed,  the  officers  of  the 
state,  elect,  under  the  peoj^le's  constitu- 
tion, assembled  in  Providence,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  inauguration.  The  state-house 
having  been  refused  them,  they  met  in  an 
unfinished  building,  which  was  designed 
as  a  foundry,  and  which  had  been  obtained 
for  their  use.  On  this  eventful  morning, 
the  people  began  at  an  early  hour  to  come 
together,  and  a  large  gathering  was  soon 
on  hand.  A  procession  was  formed,  and 
proceeded  to  the  place  of  meeting,  accom- 
])anied  by  a  considerable  military  body. 
The  new  legislature  was  organized  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  customary  form,  and 
immediately  commenced  the  transaction 
of  business.  In  jjroceeding  to  the  ])lace 
of  meeting,  the  portion  of  the  procession 
consisting  of  Dorr  and  the  other  members 
of  the  government  elect,  was  flanked,  on 
the  right  and  left,  by  a  military  guard ; 
and  the  guard,  as  well  as  all  the  other  mil- 
itary in  the  procession,  were  supposed  to 
march  with  loaded  muskets,  and  furnished 
with  ball  cartridges.  During  the  day,  no 
popular  disturbance  occurred,  and,  at  night. 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


411 


all  was  quiet.  A  military  guard  was  kept 
at  the  place  of  meeting,  during  business 
hours,  and  at  Dorr's  quarters. 

A  message  was  delivered  by  Governor 
Dorr,  to  the  people's  legislature,  in  which 
he  gave  a  history  of  past  events  and 
marked  out  the  course  of  policy  to  be  pur- 
sued. Tlie  message  was  regarded  as  bold, 
firm,  and  decided  in  its  tone,  and  dignified 
in  its  character.  The  first  legislative  act 
performed,  was,  the  passage  of  a  resolution 
to  inform  the  president  and  congress,  and 
the  governors  of  the  several  states,  of  the 
establishment  of  the  new  government.  A 
proposition  was  made  by  Governor  Dorr  t., 
take  possession  of  the  state-house  in  Provi- 
dence, and  other  state  property,  but  this 
was  not  adopted,  but  commissioners  were 
appointed  to  demand  possession  of  the 
public  records,  funds,  and  other  property. 
Little  was  done  in  the  way  of  organizing 
the  various  departments  of  government; 
but  the  '  Algerine  Law,'  as  it  was  called, 
passed  by  the  charter  legislature,  and  de- 
signed to  prevent  citizens  from  engaging 
in  the  suffrage  party  movement,  or  taking 
office  of  any  kind  in  connection  with  the 
same,  under  certain  pains  and  penalties, 
was  solemnly  repealed.  The  courts  of  law, 
however,  were  left  unmolested,  though  all 
of  them  were  opposed  to  the  new  party, 
and  Chief  Justice  Durfee  was  its  especial 
enemy.  After  a  session  of  three  days,  the 
body  adjourned  to  July  fourth,  at  Provi- 
dence. 

Arriving  at  Providence,  Governor  Dorr 
was  received  by  a  large  mass  of  citizens, 
of  whom  two  or  three  hundred  were  armed  ; 
in  an  undress  uniform,  and  a  sword  at 
his  side,  the  hero  of  the  day  was  conducted 
through  the  principal  streets  of  the  city, 
in  an  elegant  barouche  drawn  by  four 
white  horses.  In  this  triumphal  style,  he 
proceeded  to  the  house  of  Burrington 
Anthony,  where  he  took  up  his  quarters, 
protected  by  a  military  guard,  and  two  small 
pieces  of  artillery.  Governor  Dorr  soon 
issued  a  proclamation,  in  which,  after  stat- 
ing that  the  president  had  intimated  an 
intention  of  resorting  to  the  forces  of  the 
United  States  to  check  the  movements  of 


the  people  of  Rhode  Island  in  sup})ort 
of  their  republican  constitution  recently 
adopted,  he.  Dorr,  declared  that,  so  soon 
as  a  soldier  of  the  United  States  should 
be  set  in  motion  for  any  such  purpose,  he 
should  oppose  said  force  by  that  aid  which, 
he  was  autliorized  to  say,  would  be  imme- 
diately forthcoming  from  the  city  of  New 
York  and  elsewhere.  The  military  were 
enjoined  to  see  that  no  more  arrests  were 
made  under  the  Algerine  law,  and  the 
militia  were  directed  to  hold  themselves  in 
readiness  for  immediate  service. 

Thus,  it  became  evident  that  the  adlier- 
ents  to  the  charter  and  the  adherents  to 
the  constitution  were  soon  to  be  brought 
face  to  face,  force  being  opposed  to  force. 

It  was  ordered  by  King  and  his  council 
that  Dorr  should  be  taken,  if  possible, 
before  the  day  closed.  With  this  view, 
expresses  were  dispatched  into  all  parts  of 
the  state,  and  a  steam-boat  sent  to  touch  at 
Newport,  Bristol,  and  Warren,  to  bring 
help  in  behalf  of  the  charter  government ; 
the  boat,  arriving  in  the  morning,  brought 
a  large  body  of  men,  who  were  at  once 
joined  to  King's  forces,  and  prepared  for 
the  field  of  battle.  Some  aid  also  came  to 
Dorr,  and  the  prospect  was  that  a  bloody 
fight  would  occur. 

At  an  early  hour.  King,  with  a  body  of 
his  men,  marched  into  the  very  midst  of 
the  suffrage  throng,  without  molestation, 
and  surrounded  Mr.  Anthony's  house, — 
Dorr's  quarters.  A  detachment  then  went 
into  the  house,  but,  on  searching,  Dorr 
could  nowhere  be  found.  He  had,  it  was 
reported,  left  town.  A  portion  of  the 
cadets  volunteered  to  go  in  jjursuit  of  him. 
They  instantly  mounted,  determined  to 
take  him  wherever  he  could  be  found,  but 
were  misinformed  as  to  his  route,  and 
returned  after  having  gone  in  the  direction 
of  the  Norwich  and  Worcester  railroad,  a 
distance  of  twenty  miles.  He  felt  keenly 
the  result  of  the  arsenal  affair,  and  the 
failure  of  his  forces  to  come  up  to  the 
mark. 

The  leaders,  on  the  part  of  the  suffrage 
party,  had  dismissed  their  men,  and  ad- 
vised them  to  retire  peaceably  from  the 


412 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ground.  A  large  body  left  the  scene,  in 
compliance  with  this  request.  Others 
were  on  the  ground  to  a  large  number, 
and  around  the  cannons,  on  the  arrival  of 
the  body  of  citizens  under  King.  Many 
in  the  suffrage  ranks  cried  out  ^' fire,''^  but 
there  was  no  attempt  in  reality  to  obstruct 
the  passage  of  King's  men  in  surrounding 
the  house  and  taking  possession  of  the 
ground.  The  landholders,  under  the  di- 
rection of  the  United  States  marshal,  at 
the  instance  of  the  national  authorities, 
took  the  guns  and  arms  from  the  suffrage 


men  as  they  passed  through  the  streets  on 
their  way  home. 

It  being  jjretty  generally  understood 
that  Dorr  had  gone  to  Connecticut,  a 
requisition  was  made  by  King  upon  Gov- 
ernor Cleveland,  of  that  state,  for  his  ren- 
dition, but  unsuccessfully.  A  reward  was 
also  offered  for  the  capture  of  Dorr  and 
his  delivery  to  the  charter  authorities,  for 
trial  on  charges  of  treason.  But  all  this 
was  ineffectual.  Indeed,  the  fugitive  rap- 
idly became  illustrious  out  of  his  own  state, 
to  a  degree  far  beyond  his  experience  at 
home.  Meetings  of  sympathy  for  him  and 
his  cause  were  held  in  several  of  the  large 


cities;  and  the  legislature  of  Maine,  act- 
ing at  the  suggestion  of  Governor  Fair- 
field, passed  resolutions  of  a  similar  spirit. 
But,  notwithstanding  the  defeat  and  dis- 
persion of  the  suffrage  forces  on  the  eight- 
eenth of  May,  and  the  disappearance  of 
Dorr,  no  means  or  efforts  were  being 
spared  by  the  latter  to  rally  his  friends 
around  him  in  sufficient  numbers  to  insure 
a  safe  return  to  the  state  and  a  reasser- 
tion  of  the  suj)remacy  of  the  people's  con- 
stitution. 

In  a  few  weeks,  the  suffrage  friends  had 
entrenched  themselves  at  Alcot's  hill, 
Chepachet,  a  village  in  the  town  of 
Gloucester,  and  here,  by  proclamation 
from  Dorr,  the  legislature  was  sum- 
moned to  meet  on  the  fourth  of  July. 
The    exj^ectation   was    now  general, 
throughout   the    state,  that  matters 
were  hourly  coming  to  a  final  test. 
In  anticipation  of  this,  martial  law 
was   declared   by   King,   and   every 
available  soldier  was  at  once  put  into 
the    ranks,  soon   numbering   several 
thousand.     Business  Avas  suspended, 
^  and  the  alarming  state  of  things  ab- 
sorbed all  thought  and  action.     Ma- 
jor General  William  Gibbs  McNeill 
was  in  command  of  the  landholders' 
army.     Dorr  arrived  at  the  encamp- 
ment of  his  followers,  at  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  his  force,  however, 
numbering  scarcely  one-fourth  that 
of  his  opponents,  though  he  was  well 
supplied  with  field-jijieces,  arms,  and 
ammunition  ;   there  were  four  large  mar- 
quees, and  some  of  the  men  were  quartered 
in  a  barn.     The  encampment  occupied  a 
fine    location,  the   hill    being  eighty  feet 
high    and    commanding    the    Providence 
turnpike,  for  the  whole  range  of  cannon. 

At  about  half-past  four  o'clock  the  next 
morning,  General  McNeill  caused  a  body 
of  five  hundred  men,  under  Colonel  W.  W. 
Brown,  to  proceed  from  Greenville  to  Che- 
pachet, a  distance  of  about  eight  miles. 
A  scout  party  of  the  infantry,  of  about  a 
dozen  men,  led  by  Lieutenant  Pitman, 
kept  in  advance  a  half  a  mile  to  two  miles. 
They  took  and  sent  to  the  rear,  thirtj-  per- 


GREAT  AND  IMEMOKABLE  EVENTS. 


413 


v^.-* 


-»v^. 


WS^;..  -^ 


"'^P^ 


^U'-'S 


.^: 


^=^5 


•TpS 


^j^ 


iii 


^^xT 


sons, in  the  course  of 
the  march,  all  fugitives  from  the  Che- 
pachet  camp.  Upon  arriving  near  the 
fortification,  it  was  evident  that  the 
force  had  materially  decreased ;  so 
much  so,  that  the  scout  party,  without 
waiting  for  the  advance  of  the  main 
body,  determined  on  entering  the  forti- 
fication alone.  No  resistance  ivas 
made  !  The  men  fled  in  confusion,  and 
the  scout  party  took  possession  with- 
out firing  a  gun.  The  fortifi- 
cation proved  to  be  quite  inade- 
quate for  any  hostile  military 
operations.  The  main  body 
immediately  arrived,  and,  the 
village  being  now  entirely  in 
their  power,  escape  was  impos- 
sible, and  a  large  num- 
ber of  prisoners  were  / 
taken,   and   a       ,,^  / 


gy  til 


\^M. 


Si^'i 


^f 


^-_ 


~>. 


¥': 


'M 


_  —'f/ 


j: 


^'C'f- 


FINAL  DISPERSI02J  OF  GOV.  DOKK  AND  HIS  FORCES. 


considerable    quantity 
of  arms.     Dorr  fled  to 
Connecticut,  accompa- 
nied by  a  f3w  of  his 
soldiers.     Governor 
King    offered,    again, 
a  large  reward  for  Gov- 
ernor Dorr's   capture, 
but  he  found  safe  quar- 
ters    in     Connecticut 
and  New  Hampshire, 
until  he  voluntarily  re- 
turned.    The  authorities  of  the  state 
at  once  took  him  into  custody,  and 
an  indictment  for  high  treason  hav- 
ing been   found  against   him,  he   was 
tried,  and  a  verdict  of  guilty  being  ren- 
dered, he  was  sentenced  to  be  impris- 
oned for  life.      In  1847,  however,  Hon. 
IJyron  Dinman  being  then  governor  of 
the  state,  Mr.  Dorr  was  pardoned ;  and 
in   1853,  during  the   administration  of 
Governor  Allen,  the  legislature  restored 


414 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


him  to  full  citizenship,  and  his  friends  also 
caused  the  official  record  of  his  sentence  to 
be  expunged.  His  death  occurred  the 
next  year,  but  not  until  the  measures  he 
had  espoused  were,  in  good  part,  engrafted 
upon  the  political  system  of  his  state,  and 
the  party  with  which  he  was  identified 
administering  its  public  affairs. 

Similar,  in  some  of  its  features,  to  the 
rebellion  in  Rhode  Island,  was  the  anti- 
rent  insurrection  in  the  state  of  New 
York,  the  origin  and  character  of  Avhich, 
as  set  forth  by  Willard,  the  historian,  will 
sufficiently  appear  in  the  following  brief 
statement : 

Under  the  early  Dutch  government  of 
that  state,  certain  settlers  received  patents 
of  considerable  tracts  of  land,  that  of  Van 
Rensselaer  being  the  most  extensive, — 
comprising,  as  it  did,  the  greater  portion 
of  Albany  and  Rensselaer  counties  These 
lands  were  divided  into  farms  of  from  one 
hundred  to  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres, 
and  leased  in  perpetuity  on  condition  that 
the  tenant  pay  annually,  to  the  landlord 
or  'patroon,'  a  quantity  of  wheat,  from 
twenty-two  and  a  half  bushels  to  ten,  with 
four  fat  fowls,  and  a  day's  service  with 
wagon  and  horses.  If  the  tenant  sold  his 
lease,  the  landlord  was  entitled  to  one 
quarter  of  the  purchase  money.     The  land- 


lord was  also  entitled  to  certain  privileges 
on  all  water  power,  and  a  right  to  all 
mines. 

The  summer  of  1844  witnessed  the  most 
violent  disturbances  by  the  anti-rent  party 
in  the  eastern  towns  of  Rensselaer,  and 
the  Livingston  Manor  in  Columbia  county. 
The  anti-renters  formed  themselves  into  as- 
sociations to  resist  the  law,  and  armed  and 
trained  bands,  disguised  as  Indians,  scoured 
the  country,  crying  "  Down  with  the 
Rent !  "  and,  in  various  ways,  intimidating 
those  who  favored  the  execution  of  the 
law.  In  1846,  Silas  Wright  was  chosen 
governor  of  the  state,  and  by  his  wisdom 
and  firmness  public  order  was  restored. 
By  proclamation,  he  declared  the  localit}'^  in 
which  these  disorders  prevailed,  to  be  in  a 
a  state  of  insurrection  ;  resolute  men  were 
made  sheriffs,  military  force  was  brought 
into  requisition,  and  the  leading  anti-rent- 
ers arraigned  for  trial.  Some  of  these, 
convicted  of  murder,  were  condemned  to 
death,  but  their  punishment  commuted  to 
imprisonment  for  life.  Throughout  the 
whole  of  this  exciting  period,  there  were 
multitudes  who  sympathized  with  those 
who  opposed  the  collection  of  the  rents, 
but  who  withheld  all  countenance  from 
those  measures  of  lawless  resistance,  to 
which  the  more  violent  resorted. 


XLVII. 

MUTINY  ON  BOAKD  THE  UNITED  STATES  BRIG-OF-WAR, 
SOMERS,  CAPTAIN  A.  S.  MACKENZIE.— 1842. 


Deep-Laid  Plot  to  Seize  the  Vessel,  Commit  Wholesale  Murder  of  Her  Men,  Raise  the  Black  Flag,  and 
Convert  Her  into  a  Pirate. — All  Prizes  to  be  Plundered,  Burnt,  their  Crews  Butchered,  and  Women 
and  Girls  Ravished  — Midshipman  Spencer,  Son  of  a  United  States  Cabinet  Officer,  the  Ringleader. 
— The  Chief  Conspirators  Hung  at  the  Yard-Arni. — First  Mutiny  in  the  United  States  Navy. — Spen- 
cer's Hold  Upon  His  Comrades. — Death  the  Penalty  of  Disclosure. — Confidence  Fortunately  Mis- 
placed.— A  Man  of  Honor  Tampered  With. — Captain  Mackenzie  Informed  of  the  Plot. — Treats  it 
as  Wild  and  Improbable. — Confronts  and  Questions  Spencer. — Orders  Him  to  be  Ironed  — Plan  Found 
in  His  Razor-Case. — Alarming  Disaffection  of  the  Crew. — None  of  the  Officers  Implicated — Close 
Investigation  of  the  Case — Spencer,  Cromwell,  and  Small,  to  Die. — Their  Fate  Announced  to 
Them. — Spencer's  Account  of  His  Life. — They  Meet  On  Their  Way  to  be  Hung. — Treatment  of 
Each  Other.— Spencer  Begs  to  Give  the  Last  Signal. — Closing  Scene  of  the  Tragedy. — All  Hands 
Cheer  the  Ship  — Raising  the  Banner  of  the  Cross. 


"I  am  leagued  to  eet  poeseBsion  of  the  vessel,  murder  the  coniTnander  and  officere, 
choose  from  among  tlie  crew  who  are  willing  to  join  me  such  as  will  be  useful,  murder 
the  rest,  and  commence  pirating;  to  attacic  no  vessels  that  I  am  not  sure  to  capture; 
to  destroy  every  vestige  of  the  captured  vessels;  and  to  select  such  of  the  female  passen- 
gers as  are  suitable,  and,  after  using  them  sufficiently,  to  dispoie  of  them."— Spencer's 
Declaration. 


EEISTLY  was  the  heart  of  the  universal  American 
nation  wrung,  in  December,  1842,  at  the  story  of  the 
mutiny  and  tragedy  on  board  the  United  States  brig 
Soraers,  then  under  the  command  of  Captain  Alex- 
ander Slidell  MacKenzie.  The  chief  ringleader  in 
this  deep-dyed  and  amazing  plot  of  crime  and  blood, 
THE  BLACK  FLAG.  was  no  less  a  person  than  Midshipman  Philip  Spen- 

cer, son  of  the  distinguished  statesman,  Hon.  John  C.  Spencer,  of  New  York,  secretary- 
of-war  under  President  Tyler, — officiating  in  that  capacity  at  the  very  time  of  the 
ghastly  occurrences  here  recited. 

In  the  whole  history  of  the  American  navy,  this  act  stands  out  by  itself,  without  a 
parallel  or  precedent;  and,  surel}^,  no  pen  of  romance  could  weave  a  tale  of  imaginary 
crime  equal  in  ghastly  horror  to  this  startling  chapter — the  first  regularly  organized 
mutiny  in  the  annals  of  the  United  States  naval  service. 

The  development  of  the  mutinous  scheme  transpired  on  the  voyage  of  the  Somers  to 
the  United  States  from  Liberia,  from  which  place  she  sailed  on  the  eleventh  of  Novem- 
ber, intending  to  proceed  home  via  St.  Thomas.  It  was  on  Saturday,  the  twenty-sixth 
of  November,  that  Lieutenant  Gansevoort  went  into  the  cabin  and  informed  Captain 
Mackenzie  that  a  conspiracy  existed  on  board  of  the  brig  to  capture  her,  murder  the 
commander,  the  officers,  and  most  of  the  crew,  and  convert  her  into  a  pirate,  acting 
Midshipman  Philip  Spencer  being  at  the  head  of  it.     He  stated  that  Purser  Hieskell 


416 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


liad  just  informed  him  that  Mr.  Wales, 
his  steward,  had  approached  liim  as  if  to 
converse  on  their  joint  duty,  and  revealed 
to  him,  for  the  i)urj)ose  of  its  being  com- 
municated to  the  commander,  important 
information.  This  was,  that,  on  the  night 
previous,  being  November  twenty-fifth,  he, 
Wales,  had  been  accosted  by  Spencer,  and 
invited  by  him  to  get  up  on  the  booms,  as 
he  had  something  uncommon  to  say. 
When  on  the  booms,  Spencer  addressed 
him  as  follows  : 

"  Do  you  fear  death  ?   Do   you  fear  a 
dead   man  ?     Are   you    afraid   to    kill  a 


7)ian 


o)f 


Mr.  Wales,  thus  accosted,  and  having 
his  curiosity  excited,  with  admirable  cool- 
ness induced  Spencer  to   go  on,  and  took 
the  oath  of  secrecy  which  was  administered 
to  him.     Spencer  then  informed  him  that 
he  M^as  leagued  with  about  twenty  of  the 
orew   to    get    possession    of    the    vessel, 
murder  the  commander  and  officers,  choose 
from  among  those  of  the  crew  who  were 
willing    to   join   him    such   as    would   be 
useful,  and  murder  the  rest  and  commence 
pirating.     He  mentioned  all  the  details  of 
the  plan,  and  which  was  well  suited  to  the 
attainment   of   his   object — involving,  in- 
deed, much  better  notions  of  seamanshij) 
than  he  himself  was  capable   of  forming. 
As  one  of  the  inducements  to  her  capture, 
he  stated  that  a  box,  containing  wine  of 
rare  value,  brought  off  with  much  care  at 
Madeira,  as  a   present   from   the    United 
States  consul  at  Funchal  to  Commodore 
Nicholson,  contained  money  or  treasure  to 
a  large  amount.     It  was  liis  purpose  to 
carry  the  vessel  to  the  Isle  of  Pines,  where 
one  of  his  associates,  who  had  been  in  the 
business  before,  had  friends ;  to  attack  no 
vessels  that  he  was  not  sure  to  capture;  to 
destroy    every    vestige    of  the    captured 
vessels,    after   having  removed  what  was 
useful ;  to  select  such  of  the  female  pas- 
sengers as  were  suitable,  and,  after  they 
had  used  them  sufficiently,  to  dispose  of 
them.      Spencer   also   stated  that   he   had 
the  written  plan  of  his  project  in  the  back 
of  his  cravat,  which  he  would  sliow  to  Mr. 
Wales   in  the  morning.     On   separating, 


Spencer  gave  expression  to  terrible  threats 
of  instant  death  to  Wales  from  himself  or 
his  accomplices,  should  Wales  utter  one 
word  of  what  had  passed. 

So  monstrous  and  improbable   did   this 
project  appear  to  Captain  Mackenzie,   as 
thus  related  to  him  by  Lieutenant  Ganse- 
voort,  that  he  at  first  treated  it  with  ridi- 
cule,   premising   that    Spencer   had  been 
reading  some  piratical  stories,   and  then 
amused  himself  with  working  upon  Wales's 
credulity.     Considering  it,  however,  to  be 
his  duty  to  be  on  his   guard,  lest    there 
should  be  even  a  shadow  of  reality  in  the 
scheme,  Mackenzie  directed  his  first  lieu- 
tenant, Gansevoort,  to  watch  Spencer  nar- 
rowly, without,  of  course,  seeming  to  do  so. 
In  the  course  of  the   day,   Lieutenant 
Gansevoort  gave  information  that  Spencer 
had  been  in   the   wardroom  examining  a 
chart  of  the  West  Indies,  and  had  asked 
the  assistant  surgeon  some  questions  about 
the    Isle  of  Pines,  the  surgeon  replying 
that  it  was  a  place   much  frequented  by 
pirates,  and  dryly  asking  him  in  return  if 
he    had    any    acquaintances    there.      He 
passed    the  day    rather    sullenly   in   one 
corner  of  the  steerage,  as  was  his  custom, 
engaged  in  examing  a  small  piece  of  paper 
and    writing    on    it    with  his  pencil,   and 
occasionally  finding  relaxation  in  working 
with  a  penkife  at  the  tail  of  a  devil-fish, 
one  of  the  joints  of  which  he  had  formed 
into  a  sliding-ring  for  his  cravat.     He  had 
endeavored,  too,  for  some  days,  to  ascertain 
the  rate  of  the  chronometer,  by  aj^plying 
to  Midshipman  Rodgers,  to  whom  it  was 
unknown,   and  who    referred    him  to   the 
master.     With  boatswain's  mate  F.  Crom- 
well,  and  Elisha  Small,  seaman,  he  was 
seen  in  secret  and  nightly  conferences,  and 
to  l)oth  of  these  he  had  given  money,  as 
well  as  to  others  of  the  crew ;  he  had  dis- 
tributed  tobacco   extensively   among   the 
apprentices,    in     defiance     of    reiterated 
orders  ;  corrupting  the  wardroom  steward, 
he  caused  him  to  steal   brandy  from  the 
wardroom  mess,  with  which  Sj^encer  not 
only  got  drunk  himself,  but  administered 
it  to  several  of  the  crew.     Though  servile 
in  his  intercourse  with  Captain  Mackenzie, 


GREAT  A2TD  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


417 


when  among  the  crew  Spencer  loaded  him 
with  blasphemous  vituperation,  and  pro- 
claimed that  it  would  be  a  pleasing  task 
to  roll  him  overboard  off  the  round-house. 
At  one  tiftie  Jte  drew  a  brig  with  a  black 
flafj,  and  asked  one  of  the  midshipmen 
what  he  thought  of  it;  he  repeatedly 
asserted,  in  the  early  p  irt  of  the  cruise, 
that  the  brig  might  be  easily  taken;  and, 
a  short  time  prior  to  the  revelation  of  the 
plot,  he  had  examined  the  hand  of  Mid- 
shipman Rodgers,  told  his  fortune,  and 
predicted  for  him  a  speedy  and  violent 
death.  These  and  various  other  circum- 
stances, determined  Captain  Mackenzie  to 
make  sure  at  once  of  Spencer's  person, 
and,  accordingly,  at  evening  quarters,  all 
the  officers  were  ordered  to  lay  aft  on  the 
quarter-deck,  excepting  the  midshipman 
stationed  on  the  forecastle.  The  master 
was  ordered  to  take  the  wheel,  and  those 
of  the  crew  stationed  abaft  sent  to  the 
mainmast.  Captain  Mackenzie  now  ap- 
proached Spencer,  and  said  to  him — 


iclaX^  c/fiojcyfdit.'^^y^-e_ 


"  I  learn,  Mr.  Spencer,  that  you  aspire 
to  the  command  of  the  Somers." 

"  Oh  no,  sir,"  replied  Spencer,  with  a 
deferential,  but  unmoved  and  gently  smil- 
ing expression. 

"  Did  you  not  tell  Mr.  Wales,  sir,  that 
27 


you  had  a  project  to  kill  the  commander, 
the  officers,  and  a  considerable  portion  of 
the  crew  of  this  vessel,  and  to  convert  her 
into  a  pirate  ?  " 

"  I  may  have  told  him  so,  sir,  but  it  was 
in  joke." 

"You  admit,  then,  that  you  told  him 
so?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  but  in  joke  ! " 

"Tliis,  sir,  is  joking  on  a  forbidden  sub- 
ject— this  joke  may  cost  you  your  life ! 
Be  pleased  to  remove  your  neck  handker- 
chief." 

"What  have  j'^ou  done  with  the  paper 
containing  an  account  of  your  project, 
which  you  told  Mr.  Wales  was  in  the  back 
of  your  neck  handkerchief?"  —  nothing 
being  now  found  in  it. 

"It  is  a  paper  containing  my  day's 
work,  and  I  have  destroyed  it." 

"  It  is  a  singular  place  to  keep  days' 
work  in." 

"It  is  a  convenient  one,"  was  the  defer- 
ential and  bland  reply. 

"You  must  have  been  aware  that  you 
could  only  have  compassed  your  designs 
by  passing  over  my  dead  bod}^,  and  after 
that  the  bodies  of  all  the  officers.  You 
had  given  yourself,  sir,  a  great  deal  to  do. 
It  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  confine  you, 
sir;"  saying  which,  Captain  Mackenzie 
turned  to  Lieutenant  Gansevoort  with  the 
order — "  Arrest  Mr.  Spencer,  and  put  him 
in  double  iro7is." 

Lieutenant  Gansevoort  stepped  forward, 
and,  taking  Spencer's  sword,  ordered  him 
to  be  double  ironed,  and,  as  an  additional 
security,  handcuffed.  Lieutenant  Ganse- 
voort was  directed  to  keep  a  constant  watch 
upon  Spencer,  to  answer  all  his  wants,  but 
to  have  him  instantly  put  to  death  if 
detected  in  speaking  to  or  holding  intelli- 
gence in  any  way  Avith  the  crew. 

On  searching  Spencer's  locker,  a  small 
razor-case  was  found,  which  he  had  re- 
cently drawn  from  the  purser,  with  a 
razor  in  it.  Instead  of  the  razor,  the  case 
was  found  to  contain  a  small  paper,  rolled 
in  another ;  on  the  inner  one  were  strange 
characters,  which  proved  to  be  Greek,  a 
language  understood  by  Spencer.     It  for- 


418 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


tunately  happened  that  Midshipman  Rod- 
gers  was  also  acquainted  with  Greek,  and, 
on  his  converting  the  characters  into  En- 
glish, they  exhibited  well-known  names 
among  the  crew.  The  certain — the  doubt- 
ful— those  who  were  to  be  kept  whether 
they  would  join  or  not — those  who  were  to 
do  the  work  of  murder  in  the  various  de- 
partments, to  take  the  wheel,  to  open  the 
arm-chests  —  were  arranged  in  separate 
rows. 

The  next  day,  the  crew  were  inspected 
at  quarters,  at  ten  o'clock.  Captain  Mac- 
kenzie taking  his  station  abaft,  with  the 
intention  of  particularly  observing  Crom- 
well and  Small.  The  persons  of  both  were 
faultlessly  clean.  Cromwell  stood  up  to 
his  full  stature,  his  muscles  braced,  his 
battle-axe  grasped  resolutely,  his  cheek 
pale,  but  his  eye  fixed  as  indifferently,  at 
tiie  other  side,  and  he  had  a  determined 
and  dangerous  air.  Small  made  a  very 
different  figure ;  his  appearance  was 
ghastly ;  he  shifted  his  weight  from  side 
to  side,  and  his  battle-axe  passed  from  one 
hand  to  the  other  ;  his  eye  wandered  irres- 
olutely, but  never  towards  Captain  Mac- 
kenzie. Cromwell  was  the  tallest  man 
on  board.  Small  the  shortest. 

From  the  known  complicity  of  Cromwell 
in  the  plot,  he  was  brought  to  the  quarter- 
deck at  night,  where  Captain  Mackenzie 
caused  him  to  sit  down,  and,  on  question- 
ing him  as  to  a  secret  conversation  he  had 
held  the  night  before  with  Spencer,  he 
denied  its  being  him,  and  said,  "  It  was 
not  me,  sir,  it  was  Small."  Cromwell  was 
immediately  ironed;  and  Small,  thus 
pointed  out  by  an  associate  to  increased 
suspicion,  was  also  sent  for,  interrogated, 
and  ironed.  Increased  vigilance  was  now 
enjoined  upon  all  the  officers  ;  henceforward 
all  were  perpetually  armed ;  and  either 
the  captain  or  his  first  lieutenant  was 
always  on  deck,  and  generally  both  of 
them  were.  Several  acts  of  disobedience 
occurring  among  the  ship's  company,  pun- 
ishment was  inflicted  upon  the  transgres- 
sors to  the  full  extent  of  the  law  ;  after 
which.  Captain- Mackenzie  took  occasion  to 
address  the  crew,  explaining  to  them  the 


general  nature  of  Spencer's  project,  en- 
deavoring to  divert  the  minds  of  the 
slightly  disaffected  from  the  pictures  of 
successful  vice  which  the  piratical  plot 
presented,  and  informing  them  that  the 
majority  of  them,  whatever  might  be  their 
inclinations,  were  to  share  the  fate  of  the 
officers.  It  is  an  interesting  fact,  that 
every  one  of  the  officers  of  the  Somers, 
from  the  first  lieutenant  to  the  command- 
er's clerk,  proved  faithful,  chivalrous,  and 
patriotic,  from  first  to  last. 

The  effect  of  the  captain's  address  was 
various,  upon  the  minds  of  the  crew.  It 
filled  many  with  horror  at  the  idea  of  what 
they  had  escaped  from  ;  it  inspired  others 
with  terror  at  the  danger  awaiting  them 
from  their  connection  with  the  conspiracy ; 
but  the  whole  crew  was  far  fi-om  tranquil- 
lized. The  most  seriously  implicated 
began  once  more  to  collect  in  knots  during 
the  night.  Seditious  words  were  heard 
through  the  vessel,  and  an  insolent  and 
menacing  air  assumed  by  many.  Some  of 
the  petty  officers  had  been  sounded  by  the 
first  lieutenant,  and  found  to  be  true  to 
their  colors.  They  were  under  the  impres- 
sion that  the  vessel  was  yet  far  from  safe, 
and  that  an  outbreak  having  for  its  object 
the  release  of  the  prisoners  was  seriously 
contemplated. 

This  alarming  state  of  disaffection,  the 
increased  number  who  missed  their  muster, 
repeated  acts  of  insubordination,  together 
with  other  considerations,  induced  Captain 
Mackenzie  to  have  a  thorough  inspection 
of  the  crew,  the  immediate  arrest  of  those 
principally  suspected,  and,  on  the  thirtieth 
of  November,  he  addressed  a  letter  to  all 
the  officers  on  board,  excepting  the  mid- 
shipmen, asking  their  opinion  as  to  what 
additional  measures  were  necessary  to  the 
security  of  the  vessel.  On  receipt  of  this 
letter,  all  the  officers  assembled  in  the 
wardroom  and  commenced  the  examination 
of  witnesses.  The  witnesses  were  duly 
sworn,  the  testimony  accurately  written 
down,  and,  in  addition  to  the  oath,  each 
witness  signed  the  evidence  which  he  had 
given,  after  hearing  it  read   over   to  him. 

Without  interruption  and  without  food, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


419 


the  officers  continued  in  their  occuiiation  a 
whole  day,  and  the  unam:)ious  result  of 
their  deliberations  tvas,  that  Spencer, 
Cromivell,  and  Small  should  he  jmt  to 
death. 

In  the  justice  of  this  opinion  Captain 
Mackenzie  at  once  concurred,  and  in  the 
necessity  of  carrying  its  recommendation 
into  immediate  effect.  The  petty  officers 
were  now  mustered  on  the  quarter-deck, 
and  they  were  each  armed  with  a  cutlass, 
pistol,  and  cartridge-box,  after  which  the 
captain  said  to  them, 

^^  My  lads  !  you  are  to  look  at  me — to 
obey  my  orders — and  to  see  my  orders 
obeyed!      Go  forward ."' 

The  captain  now  gave  orders  that  imme- 
diate preparations  be  made  for  hanging  the 
three  principal  criminals  at  the  main  yard- 
arm  ;  and  all  hands  were  called  to  witness 
the  punishment.  The  after  guard  and 
idlers  of  both  watches  were  mustered  on 
the  quarter-deck  at  the  whip  intended  for 
Spencer;    the  forecastlemen  and  foretop- 


men  at  that  of  Cromwell,  to  whose  corrup- 
tion they  had  been  chiefly  exposed  ;  and 
the  maintopmen  of  both  watches  at  that 
intended  for  Small,  who  for  a  month  or 
more  had  filled  the  situation  of  captain  of 
the  maintop.  The  officers  were  stationed 
about  the  decks,  and  the  petty  officers 
similarly  distributed,  with  orders  to  cut 
down  whoever  should  let  go  the  whip  with 
even  one  hand  or  failed  to  haul  on  it  when 
ordered.     The  ensign  and  pennant  being 


bent  on  and  ready  for  hoisting,  Captain 
Mackenzie  put  on  his  full  uniform,  and 
proceeded  to  execute  the  most  painful 
duty  that  had  ever  devolved  on  an  Ameri- 
can commander — that  of  announcing  to 
the  criminals  their  fate.  To  Spencer  he 
said: 

"  When  you  were  about  to  take  my  life, 
and  to  dishonor  me  as  an  officer  while  in 
the  execution  of  my  rightful  duty,  without 
cause  of  offense  to  you,  on  speculation,  it 
was  your  intention  to  remove  me  suddenly 
from  the  worid,  in  the  darkness  of  the 
night,  in  my  sleep,  without  a  moment  to 
utter  one  whisper  of  affection  to  my  wife 
and  children — one  praj-er  for  their  welfare. 
Your  life  is  now  forfeited  to  your  country  ; 
and  the  necessities  of  the  case,  growing 
out  of  3'our  corruption  of  the  crew,  compel 
me  to  take  it.  I  will  not,  however,  imi- 
tate your  intended  example  as  to  the 
manner  of  claiming  the  sacrifice.  If  there 
yet  remains  to  you  one  feeling  true  to 
nature,  it  shall  be  gratified.  If  you  have 
any  word  to  send  to  your  parents,  it  shall 
be  recorded,  and  faithfully  delivered.  Ten 
minutes  shall  be  granted  you  for  this  pur' 
pose." 

This  intimation  entirely  overcame  him. 
He  sank,  with  tears,  upon  his  knees,  and 
said  he  was  not  fit  to  die.  Captain  ]\[ac- 
kenzie  repeated  to  him  his  own  catechism, 
and  begged  him  at  least  to  let  the  offircr 
set  to  the  ?»en  he  had  corrupted  and  se- 
duced, the  example  of  d^'ing  with  decorum. 
This  immediately  restored  him  to  entire 
self-possession,  and,  while  he  was  engaged 
in  prayer,  Captain  Mackenzie  went  and 
made  in  succession  the  same  communica- 
tion to  Cromwell  and  Small.  Cromwell 
fell  upon  his  knees  completely  unmanned, 
protested  his  innocence,  and  invoked  the 
name  of  his  wife.  Spencer  said:  "As 
these  are  the  last  words  I  have  to  sa^'',  I 
trust  they  will  be  believed:  Cromwell  is 
innocent ! "  Though  the  evidence  liad 
been  conclusive.  Captain  Mackenzie  was 
staggered,  and  at  once  consulted  Lieu- 
tenant Gansevoort,  who  said  there  was  not 
a  shadow  of  doubt.  He  was  told  to  con- 
sult the  petty  officers;  he  was  condemned 


420 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


by  acclamation  by  them  all,  as  the  one 
man  of  whom  they  had  real  apprehen- 
sion. Spencer  probably  wished  to  save 
Cromwell,  in  fulfillment  of  some  mutual 
oath ;  or,  more  likely,  he  hoped  he 
might  yet  get  possession  of  the  vessel, 
and  carry  out  the  scheme  of  murder 
and  outrage  matured  between  them. 
Small  alone,  who  had  been  set  down 
us  the  poltroon  of  the  three,  received 
the  announcement  of  his  fate  with  com- 
posure. When  asked  if  he  had  any 
messages  to  send,  he  said,  "  I  have 
nobody  to  care  for  me  but  mj'  i^oor  old 
mother,  and  I  had  rather  she  should 
know  how  I  have  died."  On  Captain 
Mackenzie  returning  again  to  Spencer,  and 
asking  him  if  he  had  no  messages  to  send 
to  his  friends,  he  answered,  "  None  that 
tliey  would  wish  to  receive."  Subse- 
quently he  said : 

"  Tell  them  I  die,  wishing  them  every 
blessing  and  happiness.  /  deserve  death 
for  this  and  many  other  crimes.  There 
are  few  crimes  that  I  have  not  committed. 
I  feel  sincerely  penitent,  and  my  only  fear 
of  death  is,  that  my  repentance  may  be 
too  late.  I  have  wronged  many  persons, 
but  chiefly  my  parents.  This  will  kill  my 
poor  mother  !  I  do  not  know  what  would 
have  become  of  me  had  I  succeeded.  I 
fear  this  may  injure  my  father.  I  will 
tell  you  frankly  what  I  intended  to  do, 
had  I  got  home — I  should  have  attempted 
to  escape.  I  had  the  same  project  on 
board  the  John  Adams  and  Potomac.  It 
seemed  to  be  a  mania  with  me." 

In  reply  to  Spencer's  question  whether 
the  law  would  justify  the  commander  in 
taking  life  under  such  circumstances.  Cap- 
tain Mackenzie  assured  him  that  it  would; 
that  he  had  consulted  all  his  brother  oflfi- 
cers,  his  messmates  included,  except  the 
boys,  and  tlieir  opinion  had  been  placed 
before  him.  He  stated  that  it  was  just, 
and  that  he  deserved  death.  He  asked 
what  was  to  be  the  manner  of  his  death. 
Captain  Mackenzie  explained  it  to  him. 
He  objected  to  it,  and  asked  to  be  shot. 
He  was  told  that  no  distinction  could  be 
made  between  him  and  those  he  had  cor- 


rupted. He  admitted  that  this  also  was 
just.  He  objected  to  the  shortness  of  the 
time  for  preparation,  and  asked  for  an 
hour.  No  answer  v/as  made  to  this 
request;  but  he  was  not  hurried,  and 
more  than  the  hour  which  he  asked  for 
was  allowed  to  elapse.  He  requested  that 
his  face  might  be  covered  ;  this  was  read- 
ily granted,  and  he  was  asked  what  it 
should  be  covered  with ;  he  did  not  care. 
A  handkerchief  was  sought  for  in  his 
locker ;  none  but  a  black  one  could  be 
found,  and  this  was  brouglit  for  the  purpose. 

It  was  now  ordered  that  the  other 
criminals  should  be  consulted  as  to  their 
wishes  in  this  particular.  They  joined 
in  the  request,  and  frocks  were  taken 
from  their  bags  to  cover  their  heads. 
Spencer  asked  to  have  his  irons  removed ; 
but  this  was  not  granted.  He  asked 
for  a  bible  and  prayer-book ;  they  were 
brought,  and  others  ordered  to  be  fur- 
nished to  his  accomplices.  He  then 
said  to  Captain  Mackenzie,  "  I  am  a  be- 
liever !  Do  3'ou  think  that  any  repent- 
ance at  this  late  hour  can  be  accepted  ?  " 
In  reply  to  this,  the  -captain  called  to 
his  recollection  the  case  of  tlie  penitent 
thief  who  was  pardoned  upon  the  cross. 
He  then  read  in  the  bible,  kneeled  down, 
and  read  in  the  prayer-book.  He  again 
asked  the  captain  if  he  thought  that 
his  repentance  could  be  accepted,  the 
time  being  so  short,  and  he  did  not  know 
if  he  was  really  changed.  In  answer  to 
this,  he  was  told  that  God,  who  was  all- 
merciful  as  well  as  all-wise,  could  not  only 
understand  the  difficulties  of  the  situ- 
ation, but  extend  to  him  such  a  measure  of 
mercy  as  his  necessities  might  require. 
He  said,  "  I  beg  your  forgiveness  for  what 
I  have  meditated  against  you."  Captain 
Mackenzie  gave  him  his  hand,  and  assured 
him  of  his  sincere  forgiveness. 

More  than  an  hour  was  occupied  in  this 
scene.  The  petty  officers  had  been  as- 
signed, according  to  rank,  to  conduct  tlie 
several  prisoners  to  the  gang-way.  At  the 
break  of  the  quarter-deck  was  a  narrow 
passage  between  the  trunk  and  pump-well. 
Spencer    and    Cromwell    met   exactly   on 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


421 


HANUINO  OF 


J^^^g   either  side.    The  captain  directec. 

^^^M  Cromwell  to  stop,  to  allow  Spen- 
^^^^^^J  car  to  pass  first.  At  this  mo- 
^^^^^  ment  Spencer  himself  paused, 
^^^^P  ^^^  ^^^^ed  to  be  allowed  to  see 

-^J:^^B  ^^^'  ^^^^^^'     ^6  ^^'f^s  called,  and 
^^g^g  Cromwell  now  passed  on,  almost 
^^^^^^^^g  touching    Spencer.     When    Mr. 
^^E^^^H  Wales    came    up,    Spencer    ex- 
tended his  hand  to  him  and  said, 
"Mr.    Wales,    I  earnesthj  hope 
you  will  forgive  me  for  tamjjer- 
ing  tvith  you r  fidelity  !  "     Spen- 
cer   was   wholly   unmoved,   Mr. 
Wales  almost  overcome  with  emotion  while  he 
replied,   "I   do  forgive  you   from   the   bottom 
of  my  heart,  and  I  hope  that  God  will  forgive 
you  also!"     "Farewell,''  exclaimed  Spencer; 
^      =, .  -.     -^   ..  -  ,  1^  ^»  and  Mr.  Wales,  weeping,  and  causing  others 

Kx^GLEAx>E«r*«oM-THK  vAicD-AKM.  to  Weep,  rcsponded  "Farewell!'' 


422 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Spencer  now  passed  on.  At  the  gang- 
way he  met  Small.  With  the  same  calm 
manner,  but  with  a  nearer  approach  to 
emotion,  he  placed  himself  in  front  of 
Small,  extended  his  hand,  and  said,  "Small, 
forgive  me  for  leading  you  into  this 
trouble."  Small  drew  back  with  horror. 
'•  JV'o,  hy  God  !  Mr.  Spencer,  I  canH  for- 
(jloe  you ! "  On  a  rei^etition  of  the  re- 
quest. Small  exclaimed  in  a  searching 
\'«)ice,  "  Ah,  Mr.  Spencer,  that  is  a  hard 
thing  for  you  to  ask  me  !  We  shall  soon 
be  before  the  face  of  God,  and  then  we 
shall  know  all  about  it!"  Captain  Mac- 
kenzie went  to  Small,  urging  him  to  be 
more  generous — that  this  was  no  time  for 
resentment.  He  relented  at  once,  held 
out  his  hand  to  take  the  still  extended 
hand  of  Mr.  Spencer,  and  said  with  frank- 
ness and  emotion,  ''  I  do  forgive  you,  Mr. 
Spencer  !  May  God  Almighty  forgive  you 
also!"  After  some  farewell  words  with 
Captain  Mackenzie,  he  said,  turning  to 
those  who  held  the  ship,  "  Now^  brother 
topniates,  give  me  a  quick  and  easy  death!" 
He  was  placed  on  the  hammocks  forward 
of  the  gangway,  with  his  face  inboard; 
Spencer  was  similarly  placed  abaft  the 
gangway  ;  and  Cromwell  also  on  the  other 
side. 

About  this  time,  Spencer  sent  for  Lieu- 
tenant Gansevoort,  and  told  him  that  he 
might  have  heard  that  his  courage  had 
been  doubted ;  he  wished  him  to  bear  tes- 
timony that  he  died  like  a  brave  man.  He 
then  asked  the  captain,  what  was  to  be  the 
signal  for  execution  ;  the  captain  said, 
that,  being  desirous  to  hoist  the  colors  at 
the  moment  of  execution,  at  once  to  give 
solemnity  to  the  act  and  to  indicate  by  it 
that  the  colors  of  the  Somers  were  fixed  to 
the  mast-head,  it  was  his  intention  to  beat 
to  call  as  for  hoisting  the  colors,  then  roll 
off,  and  at  the  third  roll  fire  a  gun.  Spen- 
cer asked  to  be  allowed  himself  to  give  the 
word  to  fire  the  gun ;  this  request  was 
gi-anted,  and  the  drum  and  fife  were  dis- 
missed. He  asked  if  the  gun  was  under 
biin,  and  was  told  that  it  was  next  but 
one  to  him.  He  begged  that  no  interval 
might    elapse    between    giving    the    word 


and  firing  the  gun.  Captain  Mackenzie 
asked  if  they  were  firing  with  the  lock  and 
wafer,  which  had  always  proved  quick  and 
sure,  but  was  told  that  they  had  a  tube  and 
priming,  and  were  prepared  to  fire  with  a 
match.  Some  delay  would  have  ensued, 
to  open  the  arm  chest  and  get  out  a  wafer. 
The  captain  ordered  a  supplj'  of  live  coals 
to  be  passed  up  from  the  galley,  and  fresh 
ones  continually  supplied ;  then  assured 
Spencer  there  would  be  no  delay. 

Time  still  wearing  away  in  this  manner, 
Small  requested  leave  to  address  the  crew. 
Spencer,  having  leave  to  give  the  word, 
was  asked  if  he  would  consent  to  the 
delay.  He  assented,  and  Small's  face 
being  uncovered,  he  spoke  as  follows: 
"Shipmates  and  topmates  !  take  warning 
by  my  example.  I  never  was  a  pirate.  I 
never  killed  a  man.  It's  for  saying  I 
would  do  it,  that  I  am  about  to  depart  this 
life.  See  what  a  word  will  do !  It  was 
going  in  a  Guineaman  that  brought  me  to 
this.  Beware  of  a  Guineaman."  He 
turned  to  Spencer  and  said  to  him,  "  I  am 
now  ready  to  die,  Mr.  Spencer,  are  you  ?  " 
Cromwell's  last  words  were,  "  Tell  my  wife' 
I  die  an  innocent  man ;  tell  Lieutenant 
Morris  I  die  an  innocent  man  !"  It  had 
been  the  game  of  this  leading  conspirator 
to  appear  innocent. 

Captain  Mackenzie  now  placed  himself 
on  a  trunk,  in  a  situation  from  Avhich  his 
eye  could  take  in  everything,  and  waited 
for  some  time ;  but  no  word  came.  At 
length,  the  captain  was  informed  that 
Spencer  said  he  could  not  give  the  word — 
that  he  wished  the  commander  to  give  the 
word  himself.  Tlce  gun  tvas  accordingly 
fired,  and  the  execution  took  place!  The 
three  conspirators  against  their  country, 
their  flag,  their  comrades  and  mankind, 
swung  lifeless  in  the  air,  from  the  yard- 
arm  ; — a  fate  richly  deserved,  at  least  by 
him  who  had  atrociously  declared:  "I  am 
leagued  to  get  possession  of  the  vessel, 
murder  the  commander  and  officers,  choose 
from  among  those  of  the  crew  who  are 
willing  to  join  me  such  as  will  be  useful, 
murder  the  rest,  and  commence  pirating ; 
to  attack  no  vessels  that  I  am  not  sure  to 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


423 


capture ;  to  destroy  every  vestige  of  the 
captured  vessels ;  and  to  select  such  of  the 
female  passengers  as  are  suitable,  and, 
after  using  them  sufficiently,  to  dispose  of 
them." 

The  crew  were  now  ordered  aft,  and 
were  addressed  by  Captain  Mackenzie, 
from  the  trunk  on  which  he  was  standing; 
after  which,  the  crew  were  piped  down 
from  witnessing  punishment,  and  all  hands 
called  to  cheer  the  ship.  Captain  Mac- 
kenzie himself  gave  the  order — "  Stand  hij 
to  give  three  hearty  cheers  for  the  flag  of 
our  country  !  "  Never  were  three  heartier 
cheers  given.  On  the  following  Sunday, 
after  the  laws  for  the  government  of  the 
navy  had  been  read,  as  usual  on  the  first 
Sunday  of  the  month,  the  crew  were  again 
impressively  addressed  by  Captain  Mac- 
kenzie, and,  in  conclusion,  he  told  them 
that  as  they  had  shown  that  they  could 
give  cheers  for  their  country,  they  should 
now  give  cheers  to  their  God, — for  they 


would  do  this  when  they  sang  praises  to 
his  name.  The  colors  were  now  hoisted, 
and,  above  the  American  ensign,  the  only 
banner  to  which  it  may  give  place, — the 
banner  of  the  cross.  And  now,  over  the 
vasty  deep,  there  resounded  that  joyous 
song  of  adoration,  the  hundredth  psalm, 
sung  by  all  the  officers  and  crew. 

On  the  arrival  home,  of  the  Somers,  the 
tragedy  was  investigated  by  a  court  of 
inquiry,  consisting  of  Commodores  Stewart, 
Jacob  Jones,  and  Dallas,  and  Captain 
Mackenzie's  course  was  fully  approved. 
A  court-martial  was  also  subsequently 
held,  at  his  personal  request,  of  which 
Commodore  John  Downes  was  president, 
and  the  trial,  which  lasted  forty  days, 
resulted  in  his  acquittal.  One  of  the 
ablest  reviews  of  this  case,  was  that 
by  Mr.  J.  Fenimore  Cooper,  in  which 
Mackenzie's  course  was  condemned ;  but 
the  popular  opinion  was  greatly  in  his 
favor. 


XL  VIII. 

SUDDEN  APPEARANCE  OF  A  GREAT  AND  FIERY  COMET 
IN  THE  SKIES  AT  NOONDAY.— 1843. 


It  Sweeps  Tlirough  the  Heavens,  for  Several  Weeks,  with  a  Luminous  Train  108,000,000  Miles  in 
Lengtli. — Almost  Grazes  the  Sun,  and,  after  Wliirling  Around  that  Orb  with  Prodigious  Velocity, 
Approaches  the  Earth  with  a  Fearful  Momentum — Its  Mysterious  Disappearance  in  the  Unknown 
Keaims  and  Depths  of  Space. — Most  Notable  of  all  Comets. — First  Visible  in  the  Day-time — Its 
Conspicuous  Aspect. — Strange  and  Threatening  Motion  — Its  Course  Towards  the  Sun. — Their 
Supposed  Contact. — Becomes  Ked  in  Passing. — Recedes  Straight  to  the  Earth. — Watched  with 
Deep  Concern — The  Magnetic  Needle  Agitated — Wide  Fears  of  a  Collision — Its  Probable  Result. 
— Indian  Terror  and  Prediction. — Triumphs  of  Astronomy — Diameter  of  the  Comet's  Head. — 
Measurement  of  its  Tail. — Stars  Seen  Through  the  Train. — Appearance  in  the  Equator. — Like  a 
Stream  of  Molten  Fire. — Beautiful  Ocean  Reflection.^Double  Sweep  of  the  Tail. — Other  Comet- 
ary  Phenomena. 


"  A  pathleat  comet. 

The  menace  of  the  universe; 
Btill  rolling  on  with  innate  force. 
Without  a  sphere,  without  a  coune." 


'SUALLY,  the  name  or  word  'comet'  is  applied  to  bodies  which 
appear  in  the  heavens  with  a  train,  or  tail,  of  light ;  but  it  is 
now  not  uncommon  to  apply  the  term  to  those  heavenly  bodies, 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  earth's  atmosphere,  which  are  nebulous 
in  their  appearance,  and  with  or  without  a  tail.  It  is,  however, 
the  class  first  named,  which  includes  the  most  wonderful  ex- 
amples of  this  phenomenon  in  modern  times ;  and,  in  connec- 
tion with  the  splendid  visitant  of  this  kind  that  appeared  in  1843, — almost  rivaling,  as 
it  did,  the  splendor  of  the  sun  itself, — some  notice  will  be  appropriate  of  similar  bodies 
which,  during  the  last  century,  have  excited  wonder  and  admiration. 

Without  dwelling  upon  the  appearance  of  those  comets  which  antedate  the  year 
1800,  or  upon  the  corruscations,  flickering  and  vanishing  like  northern  lights,  of  the 
comet  of  1807,  some  mention  may  be  made  of  that  of  1811,  the  finest  that,  up  to  the 
time  of  its  appearance,  had  adorned  the  heavens  since  the  age  of  Newton.  It  was 
noted  for  its  intense  brilliancy,  and  was  visible  for  more  than  three  months  in  succes- 
sion to  the  naked  eye,  shining  with  great  splendor — being,  indeed,  a  comet  of  the 
first  class,  in  point  of  magnitude  and  luminosity.  Its  brilliant  tail,  at  its  greatest 
elongation,  had  an  extent  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-three  millions  of  miles,  by  a 
breadth  of  fifteen  millions  ;  and  thus,  supposing  the  nucleus  of  the  comet  to  have  been 
placed  on  the  sun,  and  the  tail  in  the  plane  of  the  orbits  of  the  planets,  it  would  have 
reached  over  those  of  Mercury,  Venus,  the  Earth,  and  have  bordered  on  that  of 
Mars.  At  its  nearest  approach  to  us,  the  comet  was  yet  distant  one  hundred  and  forty- 
one  millions  of  miles,  so  that  even  had  the  tail  pointed  to  the  earth,  its  extremity 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


425 


would  have  been  eighteen  millions  of  miles 
away  from  its  surface.  Its  appearance 
was  strikingly  ornamental  to  the  evening 
sky,  and  every  eye  waited  and  watched, 
intently,  to  gaze  upon  the  celestial  novelty, 
as  it  grew  into  distinctness  with  the  de- 
clining day.  The  elements  of  the  orbit 
of  this  comet  were  accurately  computed  by 
Professors   Bowditch,  Farrar  and  Fisher. 

The  comet  of  1843  is  regarded  as,  per- 
haps, the  most  marvelous  of  the  present 
age,  having  been  observed  in  the  day-time 
even  before  it  was  visible  at  night, — pass- 
ing very  near  the  sun, — exhibiting  an 
enormous  length  of  tail, — and  arousing  an 
interest  in  the  public  mind  as  universal 
and  deep  as  it  was  unprecedented.  It 
startled  the  world  by  its  sudden  appari- 
tion in  the  spring,  in  the  western 
heavens,  like  a  streak  of  aurora,  streaming 
from  the  region  of  the  sun,  below  the 
constellation  of  Orion.  It  was  at  first 
mistaken,  by  multitudes,  for  the  zodiacal 
light ;  but  its  aspects  and  movements  soon 
proved  it  to  be  a  comet  of  the  very  largest 
class.  There  were,  too,  some  persons  who, 
without  regarding  it,  like  many  of  the 
then  numerous  sect  called  Millerites,  as 
foretokening  the  speedy  destruction  of  the 
world,  still  could  not  gaze  at  it  un- 
troubled by  a  certain  nameless  feeling  of 
doubt  and  fear. 

From  the  graphic  narrative  of  a  Euro- 
pean traveling  at  that  date  in  the  wilds 
of  America,  it  appears  that  the  Indians 
around  him  viewed  the  comet  of  1843  as 
the  precursor  of  pestilence  and  famine. 
One  of  his  companions,  Tamanua,  a  young 
Wapisiana,  broke  the  silence  with  which 
the  whole  part}'^  for  some  time  stared  at 
the  starry  train  of  the  ball  of  fire,  with 
the  exclamation,  "  This  is  the  Spirit  of 
the  Stars,  the  dreadful  Capishi — -famine 
and  pestilence  await  us !  "  The  others 
immediately  burst  into  a  torrent  of  vocif- 
eration, lamenting  the  appearance  of  the 
dreadful  Capishi,  and  raising,  with  violent 
gesticulations,  their  arms  towards  the 
comet.  This  comet  was  visible  in  Bo- 
logna, Italy,  at  noon,  tv/o  diameters  of  the 
sun's  disc  east  of  the  sun,  while  passing 


its  perihelion,  being  then  only  ninety-six 
thousand  miles  distant  from  that  lumin- 
ary, and  its  speed  three  hundred  and  sixty 
six  miles  per  second  ;  so  that,  in  twelve 
minutes,  it  must  have  passed  over  a  space 
equal  to  the  distance  between  the  earth 
and  the  moon.  When  its  distance  from 
the  sun  allowed  it  to  be  visible  after  sun- 
set, it  presented  an  appearance  of  extraor- 
dinary magnificence. 

But  the  ajjpearance  of  this  strange 
body,  as  observed  at  different  points,  by 
various  scientific  observers,  has  been  made 
a  portion  of  the  permanent  scientific  his- 
tory of  our  country,  by  Professor  Loomis, 
of  Yale  college,  to  whose  learned  investi- 
gations in  this  department  of  human 
knowledge,  more  than  one  generation  is 
largely  indebted.  In  his  admirable  paper 
on  this  magnificent  comet,  he  states  that 
it  was  seen  in  New  England  as  early  as 
half-past  seven  in  the  morning,  and  con- 
tinued till  after  three  in  the  afternoon, 
when  the  sky  became  considerably  ob- 
scured by  clouds  and  haziness.  The 
appearance,  at  first,  was  that  of  a  lumin- 
ous globular  body  with  a  short  train — the 
whole  taken  together  being  found  by 
measurement  about  one  degree  in  length. 
The  head  of  the  comet,  as  observed  by  the 
naked  eye,  appeared  circular  ;  its  light,  at 
that  time,  equal  to  that  of  the  moon  at 
midnight  in  a  clear  sky  ;  and  its  apparent 
size  about  one-eighth  the  area  of  the  full 
moon.  Some  observers  compared  it  to  a 
small  cloud  strongly  illuminated  by  the 
sun.  The  train  was  of  a  paler  light, 
gradually  diverging  from  the  nucleus,  and 
melting  away  into  the  brilliant  sky.  An 
observer  at  Woodstock,  Vt.,  viewed  the 
comet  through  a  common  three-feet  tele- 
scope, and  found  that  it  presented  a  dis- 
tinct and  most  beautiful  appearance,  ex- 
hibiting a  very  white  and  bright  nucleus, 
and  showing  a  tail  which  divided  near  the 
nucleus  into  two  separate  branches. 

At  Portland,  Me.,  Captain  Clark  meas- 
ured the  distance  of  the  nucleus  from  the 
sun,  the  only  measurement,  with  one  ex- 
ception, known  to  have  been  made  in  any 
part    of    the    globe    before    the    third    of 


426 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


March.  He  found  that  the  distance  of 
tlie  sun's  farthest  limb  from  the  nearest 
limb  of  the  comet's  nucleus,  was  four  de- 
grees, six  minutes,  fifteen  seconds.  At 
Conception,  in  South  America,  Captain 
Ray  saw  the  comet  on  the  twenty-seventh 
of  February,  east  of  the  sun,  distant  about 
one-sixth  of  his  diameter.  The  comet  was 
seen  at  Pernambuco,  Brazil,  and  in  Van 
Dieman's  Land,  on  the  first  of  March. 
On  the  second,  it  was  seen  in  great  bril- 
liancy at  St.  Thomas,  and  by  various 
navigators  in  the  equatorial  regions.  On 
the  evening  of  the  third,  it  was  noticed  at 
Key  West,  and  excited  much  attention. 
On  the  fourth,  it  was  seen  in  the  latitude 
of  New  York  by  a  few,  and,  on  the  even- 
ing of  the  fifth,  it  was  noticed  very  gen- 
erally. 

From  this  date,  until  about  the  close  of 
the  month,  it  presented  a  most  ynagnificent 
.spectacle  every  clear  evening,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  the  moon.  As  seen  near  the 
equator,  the  tail  had  a  darkish  line  from 
its  head  through  the  center  to  the  end. 
.It  was  occasionally  brilliant  enough  to 
throw  a  strong  light  upon  the  sea.  The 
greatest  length  of  tail,  as  seen  there,  was 
about  the  fifth  of  March,  sixty-nine  de- 
grees as  measured  with  the  sextant,  and 
it  was  observed  to  have  considerable  curv- 
ature. One  observer  described  it  as  an 
elongated  birch-rod,  slightly  curved,  and 
having  a  breadth  of  one  degree.  At  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope,  March  third,  it  was 
described  as  a  double  tail,  about  twenty- 
five  degrees  in  length,  the  two  streamers 
making  with  each  other  an  angle  of  about 
a  quarter  of  a  degree,  and  proceeding  from 
the  head  in  perfectly  straight  lines.  In 
the  United  States,  the  greatest  length  of 
tail  observed  was  about  fifty  degrees. 
Professor  Tuttle  gives  it,  as  seen  through 
the  Cambridge  telescope,  at  one  hundred 
and  eighty  millions  of  miles.  The  curva- 
ture of  the  tail  upward,  though  very 
noticeable,  scarcely  exceeded  two  degrees. 
The  first  observation  of  the  nucleus,  with 
the  exception  of  the  noonday  observations, 
is  believed  to  have  been  made  at  the  Cape 
of  Good  Hope,  on   the   third   of   March, 


after  which  it  was  observed  regularly 
until  its  disappearance.  At  Trevandrun, 
in  India,  it  was  observed  from  the  sixth; 
at  Cambridge,  Mass.,  it  was  observed  on 
the  ninth,  and  at  numerous  places  on  the 
eleventh.  The  first  European  observation 
of  the  nucleus  was  made  on  the  seven- 
teenth, at  Rome  and  Naples. 

The  comet  nowhere  continued  visible 
many  days  in  succession.  It  was  seldom 
seen  in  Europe  after  the  first  of  April. 
The  last  observation  at  Naples  was  on  the 
seventh.  On  the  fifteenth,  at  Berlin, 
Professor  Encke  thought  he  caught  a 
faint  glimpse  of  the  comet,  but  it  could 
not  be  found  again  on  the  subsequent 
evening.  At  Washington,  D.  C,  the 
comet  was  observed  on  the  morning  of 
March  sixth.  Mr.  Maury  says  concerning 
it,  that  his  attention  was  called  to  a  para- 
graph in  the  newspapers  of  that  date, 
Monday,  stating  that  a  comet  ivas  visible 
near  the  sun  at  mid-day  with  the  naked 
eye  !  The  sky  was  clear ;  but  not  being 
able  to  discover  anything  with  the  unas- 
sisted eye,  recourse  was  had  to  a  telescope, 
though  with  no  better  result.  About 
sunset  in  the  evening,  the  examination 
Avas  renewed,  but  still  to  no  purpose.  The 
last  faint  streak  of  day  gilded  the  west, 
beautiful  and  delicate  fleeces  of  cloud  cur- 
tained the  bed  of  the  sun,  the  upper  sky 
was  studded  with  stars,  and  all  hopes  of 
seeing  the  comet  that  evening  had  van- 
ished. Soon  after  the  time  for  retiring, 
however,  the  comet  was  observed  in  the 
west, — a  phenomenon  sublime  and  beauti- 
ful. The  needle  was  greatly  agitated ; 
and  a  strongly  marked  pencil  of  light  was 
streaming  up  from  the  path  of  the  sun  in 
an  oblique  direction  to  the  southward  and 
eastward  ;  its  edges  were  parallel.  Stars 
could  be  seen  twinkling  through  it,  and  no 
doubt  was  at  first  entertained,  that  this 
was  the  tail  of  the  comet.  Direction  was 
given  to  seairch  the  eastern  sky  with  the 
telescope  in  the  morning,  from  early  dawn 
and  before,  till  sunrise;  but  nothing 
strange  or  uncommon  was  noticed.  Tues- 
day was  a  beautiful  day.  The  sun  was 
clear,  gilding,  as  it  sunk  below  the  hills, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


427 


a  narrow  streak  of  cloud,  seen  through  the 
tree-tops  bevond  the  Potomac.  The  tail 
had  appeared  of  great  length  for  the  first 
time  the  evening  before ;  and  the  observ- 
ers expected,  therefore,  to  find  a  much 
greater  length  to  it  in  the  evening  follow- 
ing. It  was  a  moment  of  intense  inter- 
est when  the  first  stars  began  to  appear. 
The  last  raj's  of  the  sun  still  glittered  in 
the  horizon ;  and  at  this  moment,  a  well 
defined  pencil  of  hairy  light  was  seen 
pointing  towards  the  sun.  Soon  sifter  six 
o'clock  it  grew  more  distinct,  and  then 
gradually  faded  away. 

Professor  Loomis  states  that  the  most 
complete  series  of  observations  on  this 
comet  of  1843,  in  this  country,  were  made 
by  Messrs.  Walker  and  Kendall  of  Phila- 
delphia, where  the  comet  was  followed 
until  April  tenth.     A  great  many  astron- 


perihelion  was  prodigious.  This  was  such 
as,  if  continued,  would  have  carried  it 
round  the  sun  in  two  hours  and  a  half ; 
in  fact,  it  did  go  more  than  half  round  the 
sun  in  tliis  time.  In  one  day — that  is, 
from  twelve  hours  before,  to  twelve  hours 
after  perihelion  passage, — it  made  two 
hundred  and  ninety-one  degrees  of  anom- 
aly ;  in  other  words,  it  made  more  than 
three-quarters  of  its  circuit  round  the  sun. 
The  head  of  this  comet  was  exceedingly 
small  in  comparison  with  its  tail.  When 
first  discovered,  many  were  unwilling  to 
believe  it  a  comet,  because  it  had  no  head. 
The  head  was  probably  nowhere  seen  by 
the  naked  eye  after  the  first  days  of  March. 
At  the  close  of  March,  the  head  was  so 
faint  as  to  render  observations  somewhat 
difficult  even  with  a  good  telescope,  while 
the   tail  might  still    be    followed   by   the 


\1E\\   OF   THE   GREAT   COMET   WHEN   WEAKEST   THE  EAUTU. 


omers,  however,  computed  the  comet's 
orbit,  and  obtained  most  extraordinary 
results.  The  comet  receded  from  the  sun 
almost  in  a  straight  line,  so  that  it  required 
careful  observations  to  determine  in  which 
direction  the  comet  passed  round  the  sun, 
and  some  at  first  obtained  a  direct  orbit, 
when  it  should  have  been  retrograde.  The 
perihelion  distance — that  is,  the  least  dis- 
tance from  the  sun, — was  extremely  small, 
very  little  exceeding  the  sun's  radius. 
Some  obtained  a  smaller  quantity  than 
this,  but  such  a  supposition  seems  to  in- 
volve an  impossibility.  It  is  nevertheless 
certain,  that  the  comet  almost  (/razed  the 
su7i;  perhaps  some  portion  of  its  nebu- 
losity may  have  come  into  direct  collision 
with  it  ! 

The    velocity  with    which    the    comet 
whirled  round  the   sun  at  the   instant  of 


naked  eye  about  thirty  degrees.  Bessel 
remarked  that  this  comet  seemed  to  have 
exhausted  its  head  in  the  manufacture  of 
its  tail.  It  is  not,  however,  to  be  hence 
inferred,  that  the  tail  was  really  brighter 
than  the  head,  onlj^  more  conspicuous  from 
its  greater  size.  A  large  object,  though 
faint,  is  much  more  noticeable  than  a 
small  one  of  intenser  light. 

The  nearest  approach  of  the  comet's 
head  to  the  earth  was  about  eighty  mil- 
lions of  miles.  The  absolute  diameter  of 
the  nebulosity  surrounding  the  head  was 
about  thirty-six  thousand  miles.  The 
length  of  the  tail  was  prodigious  ;  on  the 
twent^'-eighth  of  February,  it  was  thirty- 
five  millions  of  miles,  and  its  greatest 
visible  length  was  one  hundred  and  eight 
millions,  namel}-,  on  the  twenty-first  of 
JVIarch.     Stars  were  easily  distinguishable 


428 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


429 


through  the  luminous  train.  The  visible 
portion  of  the  tail  attained  its  greatest 
length  early  in  March,  remained  nearly 
stationary  for  some  time,  and  during  the 
first  week  in  April  suddenly  disappeared, 
from  increased  distance,  without  any  great 
diminution  of  length.  The  tail  was 
turned  nearly  toward  the  eartli  on  the 
night  of  February  twenty-seventh,  in  such 
a  direction,  that  had  it  reached  the  earth's 
orbit,  it  would  have  passed  fifteen  mil- 
lions of  miles  south  of  us. 

In  regard  to  the  extraordinary  bril- 
liancy of  this  comet,  on  the  twenty-eighth 
of  February,  it  was  the  opinion  of  Profes- 
sor Loomis  —  and  no  one's  opinion  could 
have  greater  authority  or  weight  than 
his, —  that  this  was  due  to  the  comet's 
proximity  to  th-i  sun.  Tlie  day  before, 
it  had  almost  gr'ized  the  sun's  disc.  The 
heat  it  received,  according  to  the  computa- 
tions of  Sir  John  Herschel,  must  have 
been  forty-seven  thousand  times  that  re- 
ceived by  the  earth  from  a  vertical  sun  ! 
The  rays  of  the  sun  united  in  the  focus 
of  a  lens  thirty-two  inches  in  diameter, 
and  six  feet  eight  inches  focal  length,  have 
melted  carnelian,  agate  and  rock  crystal. 
The  heat  to  which  the  comet  was  sub- 
jected must  have  exceeded  by  twenty-five 
times  that  in  the  focus  of  such  a  lens. 
Such  a  temperature  would  have  converted 
into  vapor  almost  every  substance  on  the 
earth's  surface ;  and  if  anytliing  retained 
the  solid  form,  it  would  be  in  a  state  of 
intense  ignition.  The  comet  on  the 
twentj'-eighth  of  February  was  red  hot, 
and,  for  some  days  after  its  perihelion,  it 
retained  a  peculiar  fieri/  appearance.  In 
the  equatorial  regions,  the  tail  is  described 
as  resembling  a  stream  of  fire  from  a  fur- 
nace. 

Such  are  some  of  the  principal  facts 
concerning  this  most  wonderful  comet  of 
modern  times,  according  to  the  investiga- 
tions made  by  Loomis, —  also  by  Bond, 
Walker,  Mitchell,  Joslin,  Hitchcock,  and 
others,  and  which  is  significantly  and  de- 
servedly called  "  the  Great  Comet." 

In  1847,  another  remarkable  comet, 
visible  to  the  naked  eye,  made  its  appear- 


ance in  the  constellation  Andromeda.  In 
the  early  part  of  February,  it  shone  as  a 
star  of  the  fourth  magnitude,  with  a  tail 
extending  about  four  degrees  from  the 
nucleus.  The  distance  of  the  comet  from 
the  sun's  surface,  on  the  evening  of  March 
thirtieth,  was  only  about  three  and  a  half 
millions  of  miles.  The  cometic  nebulosity 
was  about  sixty-five  thousand  miles  in 
diameter,  and  that  of  the  more  condensed 
central  part,  eight  thousand  miles.  The 
length  of  tail  was  far  less  than  that  of  the 
comet  of  1843.  Of  this  comet,  a  full  page 
plate  illustrates  this  article,  showing,  in  a 
peculiar  manner,  the  supernal  splendor 
characterizing  this  mysterious  order  of  the 
heavenly  bodies. 

The  comet  of  1853  was  clearly  visible 
to  the  naked  eye,  and  had  a  well  de- 
fined nucleus  and  tail.  On  investigation, 
astronomers  failed  to  identify  this  comet 
with  any  previous  one.  Its  brilliant 
nucleus  and  long  train  mg,de  it  very  con- 
spicuous,— indeed,  one  of  the  largest  and 
most  beautiful  on  record.  The  actual 
diameter  of  the  bright  nucleus  was  eight 
thousand  miles,  or  about  equal  to  that  of 
the  earth.  Its  nearest  distance  to  the 
earth  at  any  one  time  was  sixty-eight 
millions  of  miles. 

In  September,  1858,  Donati's  celebrated 
comet  made  its  appearance,  and  was  for 
weeks  a  wonder  in  the  skies,  at  which  the 
whole  nation  gazed  with  deej^  and  intense 
interest.  The  great  astronomers,  Loomis, 
Peirce,  George  P.  Bond,  William  C.  Bond, 
Tuttle,  Norton,  Hubbard,  Safford,  and 
Gould,  made  learned  observations  of  the 
celestial  visitor.  The  nucleus  was  very 
brilliant,  the  tail  prodigious.  A  star  of 
the  first  magnitude  might  have  rivaled 
the  illumination  of  this  comet,  but  noth- 
ing less  was  worthy  a  comparison.  The 
tail  had  a  curve  like  a  scimitar ;  but  its 
end  was  shadowy,  faint,  tremulous,  and 
uncertain.  The  view  from  twilight  until 
deep  dark,  was  magnificent.  On  the 
twentieth  of  October,  the  first  of  a  series 
of  extraordinary  phenomena  manifested 
itself  in  the  region  contiguous  to  the  nu- 
cleus.    A  crescent-shaped  outline,  obscure 


430 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


and  very  narrow,  was  interspersed,  like  a 
screen,  between  the  nucleus  and  the  sun ; 
within  this,  instead  of  a  softly-blended 
nebulous  light,  indicative  of  an  undis- 
turbed condition  of  equilibrium,  the  fiery 
mass  was  in  a  state  of  apparent  commo- 
tion, as  though  upheaved  by  the  action  of 
violent  internal  forces.  On  the  twenty- 
third,  two  dark  outlines  were  traced  more 
than  half  way  round  the  nucleus,  and  on 
the  next  evening  still  another.  Other 
envelopes  were  subsequently  formed,  their 
motion  of  projection  from  the  nucleus 
being  evident  from  night  to  night.  The 
rapidity  of  their  foi'mation,  and  the  enor- 
mous extent  to  which  they  were  ultimately 
expanded,  constituted  a  remarkable  feat- 
ure,  difficult  of  explanation.     The  comet 


TELESCOPIC  VIEW  OF  THE  COMET. 

was  nearest  to  the  sun — fifty-five  millions 
of  miles, — September  thirtieth  ;  nearest 
to  the  earth — fifty-two  millions  of  miles, 
— October  twelfth.  Its  tail  was  fifty-one 
millions  of  miles  in  length. 

So  sudden  was  the  apparition  of  the 
splendid  comet  of  1861,  that  though  observ- 
ations made  at  Harvard  college  observa- 
tory', June  twenty-ninth,  failed  to  detect  it, 
it  was,  on  the  succeeding  evening,  the  most 
conspicuous  object  in  the  western  sky.    On 


the  second  of  July,  after  twilight,  the 
head,  to  the  naked  eye,  appeared  much 
brighter  than  a  star  of  the  first  magni- 
tude,— about  the  same  in  brightness  as 
the  great  comet  of  1858.  The  aspect  of 
the  tail  was  that  of  a  narrow,  straight 
ray,  projected  to  a  distance  of  one  hun- 
dred and  six  degrees  from  the  nucleus, 
being  easily  distinguishable  quite  up  to 
the  borders  of  the  milky  way.  The 
boundaries,  for  the  most  part,  were  well 
defined,  and  easily  traced  among  the 
stars.  Further  observations  on  the  tail 
made  it  evident  that  a  diffuse,  dim  light, 
with  very  uncertain  outlines,  apparently 
composed  of  hazy  filaments,  swept  off  in 
a  strong  curve  towards  the  stars  in  the 
tail  of  Ursa  Major.  This  was  evidently 
a  broad,  curved  tail,  intersected  on  its 
curved  side  at  the  distance  of  a  few  de- 
grees from  the  nucleus  or  head,  by  the 
long  straight  ray,  which,  at  the  first 
glance,  from  its  greatly  superior  bright- 
ness, seemed  alone  to  constitute  the  tail. 
The  whole  issue  of  nebulous  matter  from 
the  nucleus  far  into  the  tail  was  curiously 
grooved  and  striated.  On  the  second  of 
Julv,  portions  of  three  luminous  en- 
velopes were  visible.  They  rapidly  faded, 
or  were  lost  in  the  surrounding  haze,  and 
their  places  were  filled  by  new  ones.  The 
investigations  of  Messrs.  Safford,  Hall, 
and  Tuttle,  show  the  diameter  of  the  head 
of  this  comet  to  have  been  variously  esti- 
mated at  from  one  hundred  and  fifty  to 
three  or  four  hundred  miles.  On  the 
second  of  July,  the  breadth  of  the  head 
of  the  nucleus  was  one  hundred  and  fifty- 
six  thousand  miles,  and  the  length  of  the 
tail  about  fifteen  millions  of  miles. 


XLIX. 
EXPECTED  DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  WORLD.— 1843. 


Miller's  Exciting  Prediction  of  the  Second  Advent  of  Christ. — Tiie  Speedy  Fulfillment  of  the  Latter- 
Day  Bible  Prophecies  Boldly  Declared — Zealous  Promulgation  of  His  Views — Scores  of  Thousands 
of  Converts. — Public  Feeling  Intensely  Wrought  Upon.— Preparations  by  Many  for  the  Coming 
Event.— The  Passing  of  the  Time.— Miller's  Apology  and  Defense  — His  Deism  in  Early  Life. — 
Studies  History  and  Scripture. — Is  Struck  by  the  Prophecies. — Reads  Daniel  and  John  Critically. — 
Calculates  Their  Time. — "  About  1843  "  the  Consummation. — Basis  of  these  Conclusions. — Reluc- 
tantly Begins  to  Lecture. — Interesting  Incident. — His  Labors  and  Enthusiasm. — Three  Thousand  Lec- 
tures in  Ten  Years. — Secret  of  His  Great  Success — Approach  of  the  Final  Day. — Cessation  of  Secular 
Pursuits. — Encamping  in  the  Fields,  in  Grave-yards  and  on  Koofs  — Some  Curious  Extravagances. 
— Rebuked  by  Miller. — Repeated  Disappointments. — Misinterpretation  of  Texts. — Miller,  as  a  Man 
and  Preacher. — His  Calm  and  Happy  Death. 


"T  confess  my  error,  and  acknowledse  my  disappointment;  yet  I  still  believe  that  the  day  of  the  Lord  is  near,  eTen  at  the  door." — Mit- 

LEK'S    Fl.NAL    WOKDS    TO    lll.S    i'O  l.l.l)  W  KUS. 


EW  men  have  attained  a  wider 
name  or  more  rapid  and  remark- 
able note,  in  the  American  relig- 
ious world,  than  Eev.  William 
Miller,  "  the  prophet," — as  he  was 
familiarly  called, — founder  of  the 
sect  called  by  his  name,  and  also 
hnown  as  **  Second  Adventists." 
A  sketch  of  the  public  career  of 
Mr.  Miller,  and  of  the  biblical 
grounds  upon  which  he  based  his 
earnest  and  confident  prediction  of 
the  end  of  the  world  ahotit  the 
year  1843,  together  with  some 
account  of  the  extraordinary 
scenes  which  characterized  that 
exciting  period, — participated  in 
THE  GREAT  DAY  PROPHESIED  liY  THE  SECOND  ADVKNTisTs.  by  tcus  of  tliousauds  of  ardeut  and 
enthusiastic  believers  in  Mr.  Miller's  views, — will  be  found  in  the  following  pages. 

Mr.  Miller  was  born  in  Pittsfield,  Mass.,  in  1782,  and,  when  he  was  four  years  of  age, 
his  father  removed  to  Low  Hampton,  in  the  state  of  New  York.  At  the  age  of  twenty- 
two,  he    settled  in  Poultney,  Vt.,  and  was  a  deputy-sheriff  for  that  county.     Taking 


432 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


a  military  turn,  lie  received  from  Governor 
Galusha  a  lieutenant's  commission,  and,  on 
the  breaking  out  of  the  second  war  with 
England,  he  was  made  captain,  by  Presi- 
ident  Madison.  He  remained  in  the 
United  States  army  until  the  declaration 
of  peace,  taking  a  courageous  part  in  the 
action  at  Plattsburg,  where  the  British 
were  so  sorely  worsted.  After  the  close  of 
the  war,  he  returned  to  his  home,  where 
for  several  years  he  held  the  office  of  a  jus- 
tice of  the  peace. 

In  the  community  where  he  lived,  Mr. 
Miller  was  regarded  with  much  esteem,  as 
a  benevolent,  intelligent  man,  and  a  kind 
neighbor.  He  had  only  a  common  school 
education,  but  was  a  person  of  more  than 
ordinary  talent.  In  his  religious  views, 
Mr.  Miller  was  an  avowed  deist,  until 
about  his  thirty-fourth  year,  when  his 
views  and  feelings  experienced  such  a 
change  as  led  him  to  unite  with  the  Bap- 
tist church.  For  many  years  he  was  a 
most  assiduous  student  of  history  and  the 
scriptures,  in  the  study  of  which  he  be- 
came impressed  with  the  conviction  that 
the  fifth  monarchy  predicted  by  Daniel  to 
be  given  to  the  people  of  the  saints  of  the 
Most  High,  under  the  whole  heaven,  for 
an  everlasting  possession, — as  represented 
in  the  seventh  chapter  of  that  prophecy — 
was  about  to  be  consummated. 

His  views — though  he  at  no  time  claimed 
to  be,  in  any  sense,  a  prophet, — were  sub- 
stantially as  follows :  That  Jesus  Christ 
will  ajjpear  a  second  time  in  1843,  in  the 
clouds  of  heaven  ;  that  he  would  then  raise 
the  righteous  dead,  and  judge  them 
together  with  the  righteous  living,  who 
would  be  caught  up  to  meet  him  in  the 
air;  that  he  would  purify  the  earth  with 
fire,  causing  the  wicked  and  all  their 
works  to  be  consumed  in  the  general  con- 
flagration, and  would  shut  up  their  souls 
in  the  place  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his 
angels;  that  the  saints  would  live  and 
reign  with  Christ,  on  the  new  earth,  a  thou- 
sand years ;  that  then  Satan  and  the 
wicked  spirits  would  be  let  loose,  and  the 
wicked  dead  be  raised  —  this  being  the 
second   resurrection, — and,   being  judged. 


should    make    war    upon   the    saints,    be 
defeated,  and  cast  down  to  hell  forever. 

It  hecommg  known  that  he  entertained 
these  views,  he  was  importuned  by  many 
to  write  out  his  opinions,  and  afterwards 
to  go  before  the  public  with  them.  After 
declining  so  to  do  for  a  long  time,  he  at 
length  complied,  by  writing  a  series  of 
articles,  in  1831,  in  the  Vermont  Tele- 
graph. In  1832,  he  sent  forth  a  synopsis 
of  his  views  in  a  pamphlet,  and  subse- 
quently, in  obedience  to  conscientious  con- 
victions of  duty,  he  commenced  as  a  public 
lecturer  on  prophecy. 

He  thus  describes  his  reluctance  to 
appear  in  public,  and  the  occasion  of  his 
first  attempt  :  "One  Saturday,  after  break- 
fast, in  the  summer  of  1833,  I  sat  down  at 
my  desk  to  examine  some  point,  and  as  I 
arose  to  go  out  to  work,  it  came  home  to 
me  with  more  force  than  ever,  '  Go  and  tell 
it  to  the  world.'  The  impression  was  so 
sudden,  and  came  with  such  force,  that  I 
settled  down  into  my  chair,  saying,  'I 
can't  go,  Lord.'  '  Why  not  ?  '  seemed  to 
be  the  response ;  and  then  all  my  excuses 
came  up,  my  want  of  ability,  etc. ;  but  my 
distress  became  so  great,  I  entered  into  a 
solemn  covenant  with  God,  that,  if  he 
would  open  the  way,  I  would  go  and  per- 
form my  duty  to  the  world.  '  What  do 
you  mean  by  opening  the  way?'  seemed 
to  come  to  me.  '  Why,'  said  I,  '  if  I  should 
have  an  invitation  to  speak  publiclj^  in 
any  place,  I  will  go  and  tell  them  what  I 
find  in  the  Bible  about  the  Lord's  coming.' 
Instantly  all  my  burden  was  gone,  and  I 
rejoiced  that  I  should  not  probably  be  thus 
called  upon,  for  I  had  never  had  such  an 
invitation.  My  trials  were  not  known, 
and  I  liad  but  little  expectation  of  being 
invited  to  any  field  of  labor.  In  about 
half  an  hour  from  this  time,  before  I  had 
left  the  room,  a  son  of  Mr.  Guilford,  of 
Dresden,  about  sixteen  miles  from  my  res- 
idence, came  in  and  said  that  his  father 
had  sent  for  me,  and  wished  me  to  go 
home  with  him.  Supposing  that  he  wished 
to  see  me  on  some  business,  I  asked  him 
what  he  wanted.  He  replied,  that  there 
was  to  be  no  preaching  in  their  church  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


433 


next  clay,  and  liis  father  wished  to  have 
me  come  and  talk  to  the  people  on  tlie 
subject  of  the  Lord's  coming.  I  avus 
immediately  angry  with  myself  for  having 
made  the  covenant  I  had;  I  rebelled  at 
once  against  the  Lord,  and  determined 
not  to  go.  I  left  the  boy,  without  giving 
him  any  answer,  and  retired  in  great  dis- 
tress to  a  grove  near  by.  There  I  strug- 
gled with  the  Lord  for  about  an  hour, 
endeavoring  to  release  myself  from  the 
covenant  I  had  made  with  him,  but  could 
get  no  relief.     It  was  impressed  upon  my 


at  the  close  of  a  lecturing  tour  in  the  spring 
of  1843,  Mr.  Miller  remarks  in  his  journal, 
tliat,  up  to  that  time,  he  had  given  three 
thousand  two  hundred  lectures  ! 

An  interesting  reminiscence  of  Mr. 
Miller's  early  career,  is  related  by  his 
biographer  as  having  occurred  soon  after 
the  publication  of  his  views  in  pamphlet 
form.  As  he  was  passing  down  the 
Hudson  river,  in  a  steam-boat,  a  company 
of  men  standing  near  him  were  conversing 
resi^ecting  the  wonderful  improvements  of 
the  day.     One  of  them  remarked,  that  it 


Ctv 


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SYMBOLICAL  ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  THE  SECOND  ADVENT  PROPHECIES. 


■^^^ 


conscience,  '  Will  you  make  a  covenant 
with  God,  and  break  it  so  soon  ?  '  and  the 
exceeding  sinfulness  of  thus  doing  over- 
whelmed me.  I  finally  submitted ;  and 
promised  the  Lord  that  if  he  would  sustain 
me,  I  Avould  go,  trusting  in  him  to  give 
me  grace  and  ability  to  i)erform  all  he 
should  require  of  me.  I  returned  to  tlie 
house,  and  found  the  boy  still  waiting;  he 
remained  till  after  dinner,  and  I  returned 
with  him  to  Dresden."  Such  was  the  be- 
ginning. And  yet,  ten  years  after,  namely, 
^28 


was  imj^ossible  for  things  to  progress,  for 
thirty  years  to  come,  in  the  same  ratio  that 
they  had  done;  "for,"  said  he,  "man  will 
attain  to  something  more  than  human." 
Mr.  Miller  replied  to  him,  that  it  reminded 
him  of  Dan.  12:  4, — 'Many  shall  run  to 
and  fro,  and  knowledge  shall  be  increased.' 
A  pause  ensuing,  Mr.  Miller  continued, 
and  observed  that  the  improvements  of  the 
present  day  were  just  what  we  should 
expect  at  this  time,  in  the  fulfillment  of 
Daniel's  prophecy.     He  then  commenced 


434 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


with  the  eleventli  cliapter  of  Daniel,  and, 
comparing  the  prophecy  witli  the  history, 
showed  its  fulfilhiient — all  listening  with 
close  attention.  He  then  remarked,  that 
he  had  not  intended  trespassing  so  long 
on  their  patience,  and,  leaving  them, 
walked  to  the  other  end  of  the  boat.  The 
entire  company  followed,  and  wished  to 
hear  more  on  the  subject.  He  then  took 
up  the  second,  seventh,  eighth  and  ninth 
chapters  of  Daniel.  His  hearers  wished 
to  know  if  he  had  ever  written  on  the  sub- 
ject. He  told  them  he  had  published  the 
above  pamphlet,  and  distributed  among 
them  what  copies  he  had  with  him.  This 
was  one  of  his  first  audiences,  and  some 
gentlemen  of  high  standing  listened  to  his 
remarks. 

In  1836,  a  volume  of  Mr.  Miller's  lec- 
tures was  published  and  widely  circulated. 
Early  in  1838,  a  copy  of  these  lectures  fell 
into  the  hands  of  Rev.  J.  Litch,  a  talented 
minister  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
church,  who  soon  after  published  a  pam- 
phlet entitled  the  Midnight  Cry,  proclaim- 
ing the  second  coming  of  Christ  about  the 
year  1843.  He  also  commenced  preaching 
the  same  doctrine,  with  great  success,  and 
published  several  works  of  marked  ability. 
Another  prominent  receiver  of  the  doctrine 
was  Rev.  J.  V.  Himes,  an  accomplished 
preacher  of  the  Christian  Connection,  and 
whose  writings  on  the  newly  promulgated 
views  evinced  much  power  of  reasoning 
and  scholarly  research. 

The  volume  of  lectures  by  Mr.  Miller 
had  a  large  circulation,  as  did  also  the 
publication  called  the  Signs  of  the  Times. 
In  October,  1840,  the  first  general  confer- 
ence of  Second  Advent  believers  was  held 
in  Chardon  street  chapel,  Boston.  During 
the  winter  of  1841 — 1842,  conferences 
were  numerous  throughout  New  England, 
and,  in  1842,  the  standard  was  raised  in 
the  city  of  New  York,  by  a  series  of  meet- 
ings in  Apollo  hall,  Broadway,  held  by 
Messrs.  Miller  and  Himes.  During  the 
summer  of  that  3'ear,  public  excitement 
greatly  increased,  and  multitudes  of  preach- 
ers and  speakers  were  in  the  field.  Finally, 
a  large  tent  was  constructed,  capable  of 


holding  four  thousand  persons,  in  which 
meetings  were  held  at  Concord,  Albany, 
Springfield,  Newark,  and  other  places. 
The  work  spread  with  a  power  unparal- 
leled in  the  history  of  religious  move- 
ments ;  and  this,  notwithstanding  the  ridi- 
cule and  other  weapons  of  opposition 
wielded  against  it  by  almost  all  the  lead- 
ing religious  and  secular  journalists  in  the 
principal  cities,  whose  influence  was  very 
great.  Perhaps  the  simple  secret  of  Mr. 
Miller'^  wonderful  success,  was  his  bring- 
ing pn'ominently  forward  a  somewhat  neg- 
lected but  vividl}'  important  truth. 

The  number  of  believers  had  now 
reached  scores  of  thousands.  The  basis  of 
their  expectation  relative  to  the  speedy 
dissolution  of  the  world  was,  that,  accord- 
ing to  the  results  of  chronological  research, 
it  appeared  that  the  captivity  of  Manasseh, 
the  commencement  of  the  "  seven  times," 
or  2520  years  of  Leviticus  xxvi.,  was 
B.  C.  677,  also  the  captivity  of  Jehoia- 
kim,  the  commencement  of  the  Grreat 
Jubilee,  or  2450  years,  was  B.  C.  607 ; 
also  the  decree  to  rebuild  Jerusalem  in  the 
seventh  of  Artaxerxes,  the  commencement 
of  the  seventy  weeks  and  230U  da3'S  of 
Daniel  viii.  and  ix.,  was  given  B.  C. 
457 ;  and  also  the  taking  away  of  pagan- 
ism in  Rome,  the  commencement  of  the 
1335  days  of  Daniel  xii.  Reckoning  from 
these  several  dates,  it  was  believed  that  the 
respective  jjeriods  could  extend  only  to 
about  the  Jewish  year  1843. 

Thus,  all  the  calculations  of  prophetic 
time  were  understood  by  the  Second  Ad- 
ventists  to  end  in  1843.  But  what  par- 
ticular time,  in  that  year,  was  a  matter  of 
uncertainty.  Some  supposed  one  day  or 
season,  some  another.  It  was  Mr.  Miller's 
opinion,  that  the  seventy  weeks  ended 
with  the  crucifixion,  in  A.  D.  33;  conse- 
quently, that  the  whole  time  would  end 
with  its  anniversary,  in  1843.  Still,  he  was 
not  satisfied  as  to  the  exactness  of  the  cal- 
culation, and  hence,  from  the  outset, 
expressed  himself,  "about  1843;"  indeed, 
in  the  year  1839,  he  remarked  that  he  w^as 
not  /»osiYive  that  the  event  would  trans- 
pire  in   the   spring   of   1843 — he   should 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


435 


claim  the  whole  of  the  Jewish  year,  until 
March  21,  1844. 

But,  in  opposition  to  the  views  thus  held 
by  Mr.  Miller  and  his  able  co-laborers, 
Himes,  Litch,  and  other  commentators,  a 
host  of  learned  writers  appeared,  including 
representatives  of  all  the  Christian  denom- 
inations— though  even  among  these,  there 
was  no  slight  diversity  of  opinion  as  to  the 
scope  and  meaning  of  the  prophecies,  and, 
in  respect  to  tlie  correctness  of  some  of  the 
points  held  by  Mr.  Miller,  no  objections 
were  advanced.  The  usual  strain  of  argu- 
ment used  by  the  opponents  of  Mr.  Mil- 
ler's rendering  of  the  scriptures  was  as 
follows  : — That  the  Lord  cannot  come  until 
after  the  millennium,  during  which  the 
whole  world  is  to  be  righteous,  and  the 
lion  eat  straw  like  the  ox,  etc.  ;  that  the 
Jews  must  be  brought  in,  and  restored  to 
Palestine,  before  that  day  comes ;  that  it 
is  to  come  as  a  thief  in  the  night — sudden, 
unanticipated,  unlooked  for ;  that  the 
world  and  the  human  race  being  as  yet  in 
their  infancy,  so  far  as  moral  and  material 
development  is  concerned,  it  could  not  be 
reasonably  expected  that  the  Lord  would 
come  to  destroy  the  world. 

But  the  great  opposing  argument 
brought  to  bear  against  the  new  views, 
was,  that  the  vision  in  the  eighth  chapter 
of  Daniel,  has  nothing  to  'do  with  the 
coming  of  Christ,  or  setting  up  of  God's 
everlasting  kingdom ;  that  Antiochus 
Epiphanes,  a  S3'rian  king,  is  the  hero 
of  Daniel's  vision,  in  the  eighth  chapter, 
and  that  the  2300  days  are  but  half  days, 
amounting  to  1150  literal  days,  all  of 
which  were  literally  fulfilled  by  Antiochus, 
— his  persecution  of  the  Jews,  and  dese- 
cration of  the  temple,  about  one  hundred 
and  sixty  years  B.  C. 

The  earliest  date  fixed  upon  by  any  of 
the  Adventists  as  a  probable  time  for  the 
Lord's  coming  (as  stated  by  Mr.  Litch, 
one  of  the  ablest  and  most  reliable  author- 
ities), was  February  tenth,  forty-five  years 
from  the  time  the  French  army  took  Rome, 
in  1798.  The  next  point,  and  the  one 
which  was  thought  the  more  probable,  was 
February  fifteenth,  the  anniversary  of  the 


abolition  of  the  papal  government,  and  the 
erection  of  the  Roman  Republic.  Viewing 
this  to  be  the  termination  of  the  1290 
da^'s  of  Daniel  xii.  11,  they  believed 
forty-five  years  more  would  terminate  the 
1335  days  of  verse  12.  Accordingly, 
expectation  with  many  was  on  tiptoe,  fully 
believing  that  the  great  day  of  the  Lord 
would  then  break  upon  the  world.  But 
both  those  periods  came  and  passed  with 
no  unusual  occurrence.  At  this  result, 
much  thoughtless  ridicule  was  indulged  in 
by  some  of  the  newspaper  press,  and  exag- 
gerated accounts  given  of  the  believers  in 
the  doctrine  waiting  in  their  white  ascen- 
sion robes  to  be  caught  up  in  the  air,  or 
going  to  the  tops  of  the  houses,  or  into  the 
grave-j-ards,  to  watch.  Very  few,  however, 
were  so  much  shaken  by  their  disappoint- 
ment in  the  passing  of  the  time,  as  to  go 
back  and  give  up  the  doctrine.  Their 
confidence,  as  well  as  their  religious  sin- 
cerity, was  bej'ond  suspicion. 

The  fifteenth  of  February  passed,  the 
next  epoch  which  presented  itself  as  a 
leading  point  of  time,  was  the  Passover, 
the  season  of  the  year  when  the  crucifix- 
ion took  place.  This  was  looked  upon  by 
many  as  being  a  strongly  marked  era,  on 
account  of  its  being  the  occasion  when 
God  delivered  his  people  from  Egypt,  four 
hundred  and  thirty  years  from  Abraham's 
sojourn  —  and,  because  on  that  feast  the 
crucifixion  took  place.  This  latter  event, 
according  to  the  belief  of  many,  ended  the 
seventy  weeks  of  Daniel  ix.  24.  Hence, 
they  argued,  the  2300  days  would  termi- 
nate when  the  same  feast  arrived  in  1843, 
and  the  Savior  Avould  come.  The  four- 
teenth of  April,  therefore,  was  a  point  of 
time  anticipated  with  the  deepest  solici- 
tude by  many.  They  had  the  fullest  con- 
fidence that  it  would  not  pass  without 
bringing  the  expected  crisis.  Others, 
asain,  looked  forward  to  the  season  of  the 
Ascension,  or  Feast  of  Pentecost,  as  being 
the  most  likely  time  for  the  advent.  But 
disappointment  attended  these,  as  it  had 
previous,  expectations.  Still,  the  zeal  of 
the  disciples  did  not  fail  them  ;  and,  at  the 
east,  west,  and  south,  the  same  enthusiasm 


436 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


was  manifested  by  tlie  promulgators  of  the 
doctrine  that  "  the  end  of  all  things  is  at 
hand." 

As  already  stated,  Mr.  Miller's  expecta- 
tions as  to  the  time  of  the  fulfillment  of 
the  prophetic  periods,  extended  to  the 
close  of  the  Jewish  year  1843,  which  would 
be  March  twenty-first,  1844 ;  and,  on  fur- 
ther reflection,  gave  considerable  weight 
to  the  consideration  that  the  tenth  day  of 
the  seventh  month  of  the  current  Jewish 
year,  which,  following  the  reckoning  of  the 
Caraite  Jews,  fell  on  the  twenty-second  of 
October,  was  the  probable  termination  of 
several  prophetic  periods,  and,  therefore, 
would  very  likely  usher  in  the  great  and 
last  day.  Thus  it  was,  that,  on  the  sixth 
of  October,  he  wrote :  "  If  Christ  does  not 
come  within  twentij  or  twenty-jive  days,  I 
shall  feel  twice  the  disappointment  1  did 
in  the  spring^  With  great  unanimit}'',  as 
well  as  honestly  and  heartily,  was  this 
view  accepted  by  his  followers.  Indeed, 
the  feeling  was  everywhere  intense,  among 
them.  For  some  days  preceding  the  time 
designated,  their  secular  business  Avas,  for 
the  most  part,  suspended ;  and  those  who 
looked  for  the  advent,  gave  themselves  to 
the  work  of  preparation  for  that  event,  as 
they  would  for  death,  were  they  on  a  bed 
of  sickness. 

In  regard  to  the  extravagances  charac- 
terizing this  movement,  the  published 
accounts  are  declared  by  the  friends  of 
Mr.  Miller  to  have  been,  for  the  most  part, 
gross  misstatements,  and  that  hundreds  of 
reports  relating  to  excesses,  had  no  found- 
ation in  fact.  Even  so  generally  fair  and 
discriminating  a  writer  as  Sir  Charles 
Lyell,  who  was  traveling  in  America 
while  the  advent  excitement  was  at  its 
height,  states  that  several  houses  were 
pointed  out  to  him,  between  Plymouth 
(Massachusetts)  and  Boston,  the  owners 
of  which  had  been  reduced  from  ease  to 
poverty  by  their  credulity,  having  sold 
their  all  toward  building  the  Tabernacle, 
in  which  they  were  to  pray  incessantly  for 
six  weeks  previous  to  their  ascension. 
Among  other  stories,  also,  industriously 
circulated,  was  that  of  a  young  girl  who. 


having  no  money,  was  induced  to  sell  her 
necklace,  which  had  been  presented  her 
by  her  betrothed.  The  jeweler,  seeing 
that  she  was  much  affected  at  parting  with 
her  treasure,  and  discovering  the  circum- 
stances and  object  of  the  sale,  showed  her 
some  silver  forks  and  spoons,  on  which  he 
was  about  to  engrave  the  initials  of  the 
very  minister  whose  dupe  she  was,  and 
those  of  the  lady  he  was  about  to  marry  on 
a  fixed  day  after  the  fated  twenty-second 
of  October. 

While  traveling  in  New  Hampshire, 
Lyell  states  that  he  was  told  by  a  farmer 
in  one  of  the  country  villages,  that,  in  the 
course  of  the  preceding  autumn,  many  of 
his  neighbors  would  neither  reap  their 
harvest  of  corn  and  potatoes,  nor  let  others 
take  in  the  crop,  saying  it  was  tempting 
Providence  to  store  up  grain  for  a  season 
that  could  never  arrive,  the  great  catas- 
trophe being  so  near  at  hand.  He  adds, 
that  in  several  townships  in  this  and  the 
adjoining  states,  the  local  officers,  or  se- 
lectmen, interfered,  harvesting  the  crops 
at  the  public  expense,  and  requiring  the 
owners,  after  the  twenty-third  of  October, 
to  repay  them  for  the  outlay.  So  bitter 
was  the  opposition  in  some  places,  that 
offensive  missiles  were  thrown  at  the  pub- 
lic speakers,  and  their  names  coupled  with 
those  of  such  impostors  as  IMatthias,  Gal- 
laway,  Folger,  Orr,  etc. 

That  irregularities  of  one  kind  and  an- 
other attended  a  religious  movement  so 
wide-spread,  intense  and  enthusiastic,  as 
this,  is  not  to  be  wondered  at;  but  it  is 
doubtless  true  that  the  majority  of  the 
incidents  thus  circulated  were  the  easy 
inventions  of  opponents.  The  most  nota- 
able  incident  was  that  which  occurred  in 
Philadelphia.  In  opposition  to  the  earnest 
expostulations  of  Mr.  Litch  and  other 
judicious  and  influential  persons,  a  com- 
pan}^  of  about  one  hundred  and  fifty,  re- 
sponding to  the  pretended  "  vision"  of  one 
Georgas,  on  the  twenty-first  of  October 
went  out  on  the  Darby  street  road,  about 
four  miles  from  Market  street  bridge,  and 
encamped  in  a  field  under  two  large  tents, 
provided  with  all   needed  comforts.     The 


GREAT  AND  l^EEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


437 


next  morning,  their  faith  in  the  vision 
having  failed,  all  hut  ahout  a  dozen  re- 
turned to  the  city ;  a  few  days  later,  the 
others  returned.  This  act  met  the  em- 
phatic disapproval  of  JMr.  Miller,  and  of 
the  Adventists  generally. 

This  day,  too, — the  only  specific  day 
which  was  regarded  by  the  more  intelligent 
Adventists  with  any  positiveness,  —  also 
passed,  peaceful  and  quiet,  as  other  days ; 
as,  likewise,  did  the  time  in  September, 
1847,  which  some  fixed  upon,  on  the  ground 
that  chronologers  differed  three  or  four 
years  in  the  dates  of  this  world's  history. 
In  reviewing  these  facts  and  results  of  the 
past,  Mr.  Miller  wrote :  ''  Were  I  to  live 
my  life  over  again,  with  the  same  evidence 
that  I  then  had,  to  be  honest  with  God 
and  man  I  should  have  to  do  as  I  have 
done.  I  confess  viij  error,  and  acknowl- 
edge mij  disapjjomtment ;  yet  I  still  be- 
lieve that  the  day  of  the  Lord  is  near, 
even  at  the  door." 

The  speedy  coming  of  the  Lord,  and  the 
approaching  end  of  all  things,  being  so  fre- 
quently and  explicitly  declared  in  scripture, 
it  is  no  wonder  that  there  should  continue 
to  be  found  a  body  of  believers  making 
that  important  truth,  and  the  duties  grow- 
ing out  of  it,  a  primary  point  in  their 
religion.  Though  less  numerous  than 
formerly,  they  are  still  to  be  found  in  con- 
siderable numbers,  with  many  earnest 
preachers  ;  their  chief  organ  has  been  the 
Advent  Herald,  published  in  Boston,  and 
conducted  with  much  decorum  and  ability. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  a  man  of  Mr. 
Miller's  strong  and  ardent  temperament, 
should  live  and  die  in  the  same  belief 
which  he  had  promulgated  with  such  evi- 
dent sincerity  ;  for,  while  acknowledging, 
as  events  proved,  the  want  of  accuracy  in 
his  chronological  calculations — he  still 
claimed,  to  the  end  of  his  days,  that  the 
nature  and  nearness  of  the  crisis  were  sus- 
tained by  scriptural  evidence.  He  died 
a  peaceful  and  happy  death,  at  the  age 
of  sixty-eight,  in  the  year  1849,  and  an 
admirably  fair  and  well-written  biography 
of  him,  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Himes,  ap- 
peared soon  after. 


As  a  man,  Mr.  Miller  is  described  as 
strictly  temperate  in  all  his  habits, 
devoted  in  his  family  and  social  attach- 
ments, and  proverbial  for  his  integrity. 
He  was  naturally  very  amiable  in  his  tem- 
perament, affable  and  attentive  to  all, — a 
kind-heartedness,  simplicity,  and  power, 
peculiarly  original,  characterizing  his 
manner.  He  was  of  about  medimn  stature, 
a  little  corpulent;  hair,  a  light  glossy 
brown ;  countenance  full  and  round,  with 
a  peculiar  depth  of  expression  in  his  blue 
eye,  of  shrewdness  and  love. 


As  a  preacher,  Mr.  Miller  was  generally 
spoken  of  as  convincing  his  hearers  of  his 
sincerity,  and  instructing  them  by  his 
reasoning  and  information.  All  acknowl- 
edge that  his  lectures  were  replete  with 
useful  and  interesting  matter,  showing  a 
knowledge  of  scripture  very  extensive  and 
minute — that  of  the  prophecies,  especially, 
being  surprisingly  familiar;  and  his  ap- 
plication of  the  great  prophecies  to  the 
great  events  which  have  taken  place  in  the 
moral  and  natural  world,  was,  to  say  the 
least,  ingenious  and  plausible.  There  was 
nothing  very  peculiar  in  his  manner;  his 
gestures  were  easy  and  expressive ;  his 
style  decorous,  simple,  natural,  and  forci- 
ble. He  was  always  self-possessed  and 
ready;  distinct  in  his  utterance,  and  fre- 
quently quaint  in  his  observations ;  in  the 
management  of  his  subject,  exhibiting 
much  tact,  holding  frequent  colloquies  with 
the  objector  and  inquirer,  supplying  the 
questions  and  answers  himself  in  a  very 


438 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


apposite  manner,  and,  although  grave  him- 
self, sometimes  producing  a  smile  upon 
the  faces  of  his  auditors.  Much  blame 
was  cast  upon  Mr.  Miller,  by  some  of  his 
opponents,  for  not  contenting  himself  with 
a  quiet  and  unostentatious  avowal  of  his 
views,  instead  of  traveling  over  the  whole 
country,  and  inaugurating  the  "noisy  and 
boisterous  system  of  camp-meetings"  in 
connection  with  so  solemn  a  theme.  But, 
that  these  camp-meetings  did  not  partake 
of  the  obnoxious  qualities  thus  charged, 
will  appear — from  one  example  at  least, — 
by  the  following  account,  written  by  John 
G.  Whittier,  one  of  the  most  enlightened 
and  impartial  of  observers  : — 

On  my  way  eastward  (says  Mr.  Whittier), 
I  spent  an  hour  or  two  at  a  camp-ground  of 
the  Second  Advent  in  East  Kingston  (N. 
H.)  The  spot  was  well  chosen.  A  tall 
growth  of  pine  and  hemlock  threw  its  mel- 
ancholy shadow  over  the  multitude,  who 
were  arranged  on  rough  seats  of  boards  and 
logs.  Several  hundred — perhaps  a  thou- 
sand— people  were  present,  and  more  were 
rapidly  coming.  Drawn  about  in  a  circle, 
forming  a  background  of  snowy  whiteness 
to  the  dark  masses  of  men  and  foliaffe, 
were  the  white  tents,  and  back  of  them  the 
provision  stalls  and  cook  shops.  When 
I  reached  the  ground,  a  hymn,  the  words 
of  which  I  could  not  distinguish,  was  peal- 
ing through  the  dim  aisles  of  the  forest.  I 
know  nothing  of  music,  having  neither  ear 
nor  taste  for  it — but  I  could  readily  see 
that  it  had  its  effect  upon  the  multitude 
before  me,  kindling  to  higher  intensity 
their  already  excited  enthusiasm.  The 
preachers  were  placed  in  a  rude  pulpit  of 


rough  boards,  carpeted  only  by  the  dead 
forest  leaves,  and  flowers,  and  tasseled,  not 
with  silk  and  velvet,  but  with  the  green 
boughs  of  the  somber  hemlocks  around  it. 
One  of  them  followed  the  music  in  an  earn- 
est exhortation  on  the  duty  of  preparing  for 
the  great  event.  Occasionally,  he  was  really 
eloquent,  and  his  description  of  the  last  day 
had  all  the  terrible  distinctness  of  Anellis's 
l^ainting  of  the  '  End  of  the  World.' 

Suspended  from  the  front  of  the  rude 
pulpit  were  two  broad  sheets  of  canvas, 
upon  one  of  which  was  the  figure  of  a 
man, — the  head  of  gold,  the  breast  and 
arms  of  silver,  the  belly  of  brass,  the  legs 
of  iron,  and  feet  of  clay, — the  dream  of 
Nebuchadnezzar !  On  the  other  were 
dejDicted  the  wonders  of  the  Apocalyptic 
vision — the  beasts — the  dragons — the  scar- 
let woman  seen  by  the  seer  of  Patmos — ■ 
oriental  types  and  figures  and  mystic 
symbols  translated  into  staring  Yankee 
realities,  and  exhibited  like  the  beasts  of  a 
traveling  menagerie.  One  horrible  image, 
with  its  hideous  heads  and  scaly  caudal 
extremity,  reminded  me  of  the  tremendous 
line  of  Milton,  who,  in  speaking  of  the  same 
evil  dragon,  describes  him  as  ''Swinge- 
ing the  scaly  horrors  of  his  folded  tail." 
To  an  imaginative  mind  the  scene  was 
full  of  novel  interest.  The  white  circle  of 
tents — the  dim  wood  arches — the  upturned, 
earnest  faces  —  the  loud  voices  of  the 
speakers,  burdened  with  the  awful  sym- 
bolic language  of  the  Bible — the  smoke 
from  the  fires  rising  like  incense  from 
forest  altars, — carried  one  back  to  the  days 
of  i^rimitive  worship,  when  "  The  groves 
were  God's  first  temples." 


L. 

AWFUL    EXPLOSION    OF    COMMODORE    STOCKTON'S 

GREAT    GUN,    THE    "PEACEMAKER,"    ON    BOARD 

THE  U.  S.  STEAMSHIP  PRINCETON.— 1844. 


T)ie  Secretaries  of  State  and  of  the  Navy,  and  Other  Eminent  Persons,  Instantly  Killed — Miraculous 
Escape  of  the  President — Sudden  Transition  from  the  Heiglit  of  Humjin  Enjoyment  to  the  Extreme 
of  Woe. — Stockton's  High  Enthusiasm. — His  Vast  and  Beautiful  Ship — Her  Model  and  Armament. 
—  Styled  the  Pride  of  the  Navy. — Invitations  for  a  Grand  Gala  Day. — President  Tyler  Attends. — 
Countless  Dignitaries  on  Board. — Array  of  Female  Beauty. — Music,  Toasts,  Wit  and  Wine. — Firing 
of  tlie  Monster  Gun. — Its  Perfect  Success. — "  One  More  Shot!"  by  Request — A  Stunning  and  Mur- 
derous Blast. — Bursting  of  the  Gun, — Death  all  Around. — Frightful  Shrieks  and  Groans — Scattering 
of  Mangled  Remains — Agony  of  Woman's  Heart. — Standing  Place  of  the  President. — Absent  Just 
One  Moment — The  Dead  in  Union  Flags. — Funeral  at  the  White  House. 


"  My  tonsue  wouli  fail  me  to  express,  and  my  pen  to  portray,  the  agonizing  heart -throes— the  mingled  walinga  and    frenzy  — of  that 
awful  hour."— Pkeside.vt  Tyler. 


AEELY  is  there  found  in  the  pages  of  a  hun- 
dred years'  history,  the  record  of  a 
more  awful  catastroplie — sliocking, 
indeed,  in  all  its  circumstances, 
concomitants,  and  results  —  than 
that  which  occurred  on  hoard  the 
shiji  Princeton,  Commodore  Stock- 
ton, on  the  afternoon  of  Fehruary 
twenty-eighth,  1844,  whilst  under 
way,  on  the  river  Potomac,  some 
fifteeen  miles  below  Washington. 
This  war  steamer  had  just  been 
constructed  in  the  city  of  Phila- 
delpliia,  according  to  improved  plans  enthusiastically  advocated  by  Captain  Stockton, 
who  had  also  superintended  the  casting  of  the  guns — on  a  new  principle  and  of  prodig- 
ious size  and  power — constituting  the  steamship's  armament.  It  was  principally  to 
exhibit  tlie  superi(n-ity  of  these  new  and  formidable  weapons  of  war,  in  the  preparation 
of  which  Stockton  Jiad  so  long  been  engaged,  and  of  the  perfection  of  which  he  had,  by 
repeated  tests  and  experiments,  thoroughly  satisfied  himself,  that  he  issued  cardrS  of 
invitation  to  a  large  and  brilliant  company,  of  bptli  sexes,  to  visit  the  magnificent  sliip 
and  go  on  an  excursion  down  the  river.  He  had  on  successive  da^'s,  previou.slj',  extended 
this  courtesy  to  various  congressional  committees  and  other  officials,  but  this  was  to  be 
the  gala  day  on  the  decks  of  that  most  stupendous  and  beautiful  ship  ever  beheld  on  the 
waters  of  the  Potomac. 


STOCKTON'S  GREAT  GUN, 


THE    PEACEMAKER." 


440 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Little  did  any  one  among  that  gay  and 
splendid  throng  anticipate  a  sudden  trans- 
ition from  the  height  of  human  enjoy- 
ment to  the  extreme  of  wailing,  anguish, 
and  death  ! 

The  day  was  remarkably  fine,  the  sun 
rising  clear  and  bright,  and  Washington 
from  early  in  the  morning  presented  a  gay 
and  busy  scene.  Nearly  all  the  carriages 
were  engaged,  and  freighted  with  the  love- 
liness, beauty  and  grace  of  the  city. 
About  eleven  o'clock  in  the  forenoon,  Mr. 
Tyler,  the  president  of  the  United  States, 
as  chief  guest,  Mrs.  Robert  Tyler,  Miss 
Cooper,  IVIi-.  John  Tyler,  Jr., — all  from  the 


executive  mansion, — with  a  large  number 
of  ofifieers  in  glittering  uniforms,  all  the 
members  of  the  cabinet  except  Mr.  Spen- 
cer, many  other  high  functionaries  of  state, 
senators  and  representatives,  quite  a  num- 
ber of  attaches  and  secretaries  of  lega- 
tion. General  Allmonte,  minister  from 
Mexico  (Sir  Richard  Packenham  had  been 
invited,  but  declined,)  and  others,  to  the 
number  of  some  four  hundred,  were  assem- 
bled on  the  deck  of  one  of  the  steamers 
plying  between  Washington  and  Alexan- 
dria, fast  bearing  down  for  the  latter  place. 
Opposite  the  navy  yard,  a  boat  load  of 
musicians  were  taken  on  board,  who,  as 
the  company  approached  Alexandria,  and 
the  Princeton  hove  in  sight,  struck  up 
'Hail  Columbia,'  while  the  convoy  was 
describing  a  graceful  curve  under  the  bow 


of  the  splendid  war  steamer,  to  view  her 
in  all  her  pride  of  architectural  model, — 
the  flags  of  every  nation  streaming  in  the 
brightness  of  the  meridian  sun  from  every 
mast,  and  her  yards  manned  to  return  the 
cheers  that  were  uttered  by  the  happy 
guests  as  they  neared  her  side. 

They  now  approached  the  Princeton  on 
her  larboard  side,  and  came  quite  close  to 
her.  A  bridge  was  soon  made  from  the 
hurricane  deck  to  the  great  steamship,  and 
the  ladies  and  gentlemen  received  by  the 
officers  on  deck,  and  conducted  to  Captain 
Stockton,  who  was  in  full  uniform.  The 
band  now  struck  up  the  '  Star  Spangled 
Banner,'  the  marines  presented  arms,  and 
as  soon  as  the  company  were  on  board,  a 
salute  of  twenty-one  guns  was  fired,  the 
band  still  playing  national  airs;  and  it 
was  quite  amusing  to  see  how  many  ladies 
remained  on  deck  to  witness  the  naval 
maneuvers  and  evolutions,  although  they 
had  been  politely  requested  to  step  down, 
so  as  not  to  be  annoyed  by  the  smell  of  the 
powder,  or  the  noise  of  the  report.  Sump- 
tuous, too,  was  the  banquet  spread  before 
this  gay  and  brilliant  company. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  Princeton  hove 
anchor  and  made  sail,  bearing  down  for 
Fort  Washington  and  INIount  Vernon — her 
sailing  qualities  being  admired  by  all. 
Past  Fort  Washington,  where  the  Potomac 
expands,  presenting  sufficient  scope  for 
the  power  of  the  Princeton's  big  guns,  the 
forward  gun  was  shotted  and  fired,  the 
ball  striking  the  water  and  rebounding 
five  or  six  times,  till  the  eye  could  no 
longer  follow  its  progress.  An  eye-witness 
of  this  experiment — a  newspaper  corre- 
spondent— states,  tliat,  in  order  to  observe 
tlie  effect  of  the  shot,  he  posted  himself  on 
the  nearest  larboard  cannonade  gun,  and, 
by  the  side  of  this,  a  kind  of  scaffolding 
had  been  erected  b}-  the  sailors,  for  the 
ladies  to  stand  on.  One  or  two  ladies  had 
taken  their  position  there,  and,  close  by, 
stood  Mr.  Secretary  Upshur,  intent  upon 
witnessing  the  whole  scene.  Tlie  corre- 
spondent offered  his  iilacc  to  the  secretary, 
but  the  latter  declined,  saying  he  preferred 
to  stand  where  he  was — the  precise  spot 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


441 


where,  an  hour  afterwurd,  he  was  torn  to 
pieces. 

Caj)tain  Stockton's  great  gun  —  called 
ironically  ^'tlte  Peacemaker" — was  now 
again  loaded  with  shot,  and  another  trial 
made  of  its  strength  and  efficiency.  The 
gun  was  pointed  to  leeward,  and  behind  it 
stood  Captain  Stockton  ;  a  little  to  the  left 
of  him,  Mr.  J.  "Washington  Tyson,  assist- 
ant postmaster-general.  By  the  side  of 
the  latter,  a  little  behind  him,  stood  Mr. 
Strickland,  of  Philadelphia;  and  a  little  to 
the  right  of,  but  behind  him.  Colonel 
Benton,  of  Missouri,  who  had  a  lady  at  his 
arm ;  and  Judge  S.  S.  Phelps,  senator 
from  Vermont.  To  the  leeward  of  the  gun 
stood  Judge  Upshur,  the  secretary  of 
state  ;  also  Governor  Gilmer,  the  secretary 
of  the  navy,  who  had  but  a  few  da^-s  previ- 
ously entered  on  the  duties  of  his  office ; 
and,  a  short  distance  behind  them,  the  late 
charge  d'affaires  to  Belgium,  Mr.  Maxey, 
of  Maryland.  By  the  side  of  him  stood 
Hon.  Mr.  Gardiner,  of  New  York,  and 
Commodore  Kennon,  chief  of  one  of  the 
navy  bureaus. 

On  firing  the  gun,  a  murderous  blast 
succeeded  —  the  whole  ship  shook  and 
reeled — and  a  dense  cloud  of  smoke  envel- 
oped the  whole  group  on  the  forecastle  ; 
but  when  this  blew  away,  an  awful  and 
heart-rending  scene  presented  itself  to  the 
view  of  the  hushed  and  agonizing  specta- 
tors. The  gun  had  hurst,  at  a  point  three 
or  four  feet  from  the  breech,  and  scattered 
death  and  desolation  all  around. 

The  lower  part  of  the  gun,  from  the 
trunnions  to  the  breech,  was  blown  off, 
and  one-half  section  of  it  lying  upon  the 
breast  of  the  newspaper  correspondent ;  it 
took  two  sailors  to  remove  it.  Secretary 
Upshur  was  badly  cut  over  the  eye  and  in 
his  legs,  his  clothes  being  literally  torn 
from  his  body ;  he  expired  in  a  very  few 
minutes.  Governor  Gilmer,  of  Virginia, 
— under  whose  official  directions,  as  secre- 
tary of  the  navy,  the  power  of  this  great 
gun  was  tested, — was  found  equally  badly 
injured ;  he  had  evidently  been  struck  by 
the  section  of  the  gun  before  it  had 
reached  Mr.  Upshur.     Mr.  Sykes,  member 


of  congress  from  New  Jersey,  endeavored 
to  raise  him  from  the  ground,  but  was 
unable.  A  mattress  was  then  procured, 
and  Mr.  Gilmer  placed  on  it ;  but  before 
any  medical  assistance  could  be  procured, 
he  was  not  among  the  living. 

Mr.  Maxey  had  his  arms  and  one  of  his 
legs  cut  off,  the  pieces  of  flesh  hanging  to 
the  mutilated  limbs,  cold  and  bloodless, 
in  a  manner  truly  frightful.  Mr.  Gardi- 
ner, of  New  York  (one  of  whose  daugh- 
ters subsequently  became  the  wife  of  Pres- 
ident Tyler),  and  Commodore  Kennon, 
lingered  about  half  an  hour  ;  but  they  did 
not  seem  for  a  single  moment  to  be  con- 
scious of  their  fate,  and  expired  almost 
without  a  groan.  The  flags  of  the  Union 
were  placed  over  the  dead  bodies,  as  their 
winding-sheets. 

Behind  the  gun,  the  scene,  though  at 
first  equally  distressing,  was  less  alarming. 
Captain  Stockton,  who  was  knocked  down 
and  somewhat  injured,  almost  instantly 
rose  to  his  feet,  and,  mounting  upon  the 
wooden  carriage,  quickly  and  anxiously 
surveyed  the  whole  effect  of  the  calamity. 
All  the  hair  of  his  head  and  face  was 
burnt  off;  and  he  stood  calm  and  undis- 
mayed, but  deeply  conscious,  over  the 
frightful  wreck.  Shrieks  of  woe  were 
heard  from  every  quarter — death  and  deso- 
lation, blood  and  mangled  remains,  were 
all  around.  In  addition  to  the  deaths 
ah-eady  mentioned,  about  a  dozen  sailors 
were  badly  wounded ;  one  was  dead,  and, 
behind  him,  Colonel  Benton,  Judge 
Phelps,  and  Mr.  Strickland,  as  if  dead, 
were  extended  on  the  deck.  On  that  side, 
by  a  singular  concatenation  of  circum- 
stances, Mr.  T3'Son,  of  Philadelphia,  was 
the  only  person  who  stood  his  ground, 
though  a  piece  of  the  gun,  weighing  about 
two  pounds,  had  passed  through  his  hat, 
about  two  inches  from  his  skull,  and  fallen 
down  by  the  side  of  him.  A  servant  of 
the  president,  a  colored  lad  of  about  fifteen 
years  of  age,  was  amongst  the  slain.  Pres- 
ident Tyler  himself  was  saved  only  hy  the 
merest  accident — having  been  temporarily 
called  back  from  where  he  stood,  just  a 
moment  before  ! 


442 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Judge  Phelps,  of  Vermont,  had  his  hat 
blown  or  knocked  off,  and  the  buttons  of 
his  coat  torn  off.  Mr.  Strickland,  of  Phil- 
adelphia, immediately  recovered  his  posi- 
tion. Miss  Woodbury  and  Miss  Cooper, 
who,  in  company  of  Captain  Reed,  of  the 
army,  and  Mr.  Welles,  of  Philadelphia, 
had  been  standing  on  a  leeward  gun,  were 
not  hurt ;  but  the  first-named  lady — the 
beautiful  and  accomplished  daughter  of 
Senator  Woodbury,  of  New  Hampshire, — 
had  her  whole  face  sprinkled  with  blood, 
from  one  of  the  unfortunate  killed  or 
wounded.  Judge  Wilkins  was  only  saved 
by  a   rollicking  bit    of   witticism  of  his. 


He  had  taken  his  stand  by  the  side  of  his 
colleague  in  office,  Secretary  Gilmer,  but 
some  remarks  falling  from  the  lips  of  the 
latter,  and  perceiving  that  the  gun  was 
about  to  be  fired,  exclaimed,  suiting  his 
action  to  the  word — 

''■  Though  secretary  of  war,  I  don't  like 
this  firing,  and  believe  that  I  shall  run  ! " 

A  most  heart-rending  scene  was  that 
which  transpired  among  some  of  the  lady 
guests.  The  two  daughters  of  Mr.  Gardi- 
ner, of  New  York,  were  on  board,  and 
were  piteously  lamenting  the  death  of 
their  father ;  while  Mrs.  Gilmer,  from 
whom  the  company  had  in  vain  attempted 
to  withhold,  for  a  time,  the  dreadful  news 
of  the  death  of  her  husband,  presented 
truly  a  spectacle  fit  to  be  depicted  by  a 
tragedian.  Her  agony  Avas  doubtless 
aggravated   by   a   peculiar   incident.       It 


appears  that,  while  President   Tyler  and 
family,  and  a  large  number  of  ladies  and 
gentlemen  in  the  cabin,  were  in  the  act  of 
leaving  the   banquet-table,  to  proceed  to 
the    deck,    the    movement    was    arrested 
for  a  moment,  by  a  gentleman  announcing 
that  one  of  the  ladies  would  give  a  toast, 
and  but  for  which  it  is  probable  most  of 
the  party  would  have  been  exposed  to  the 
deadly  missiles.     Some  of  the  ladies,  how- 
ever, were  upon  deck,  and  near  enough  to 
be   dashed  with  the  blood   and   mangled 
remains    of    the   victims.       One    of    those 
ladies  was  the  wife  of  Secretary  Gilmer, 
and  it  was  at  her  husband's  special  request, 
that  the  gun  on  this  occasion  was  fired, 
in  order  that  he  might  observe  its  quality 
in  some  peculiar  way.     This  gun  was  the 
one  called  the  'Peacemaker;'  the  other, 
of  the  same  size  on  board,  was  called  the 
'  Oregon.' 

Mr.  Seaton,  mayor  of  the  city  of  Wash- 
ington, was  one  of  the  comi:)any,  having 
been  invited  by  Mr.  Gilmer,  and  would 
have  accompanied  him  to  the  deck  to 
witness  the  firing,  but  for  a  difficulty  in 
finding  his  cloak  and  hat  at  the  moment. 
A  lady,  standing  u^^on  the  deck  between 
two  gentlemen,  one  of  Avhom  had  his  hat, 
and  the  other  the  breast  of  his  coat  taken 
off,  escaped  unhurt.  The  secretary  of 
state,  Mr.  Upshur,  left  a  wife  and  daugh' 
ter,  to  mourn  his  untimely  death ;  Secre- 
tary Gilmer,  a  wife  and  eight  children — 
the  eldest  but  fifteen.  Commodore  Kennon 
left  a  young  wife,  and  children  by  his  first 
wife.  Mr.  Maxey  also  left  a  wife  and 
children ;  and  Colonel  Gardiner  two  accom- 
plished daughters,  leading  belles  in  the 
society  of  the  metropolis.  The  only  cir- 
cumstance calculated  to  relieve  the  all-per- 
vading distress,  was,  that  of  the  multitude 
of  ladies  who  were  on  board  the  ship,  not 
one  was  materially  injured. 

As  illustrating  the  effect  of  such  a  phe- 
nomenon, upon  those  who  were  near 
enough  to  have  their  sensations  and  emo- 
tions  wrought  upon  to  the  highest  degree, 
without  actual  injury  to  their  persons,  the 
experience  of  Senator  Benton — certainly 
one  of  the  strongest-minded  of  men — is  an 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


443 


\^M% 


EXPLOSION  OF  THE  GREAT  GUN   ON   BOARD  THE   UNITED  STATES   STEAMSHIP   PRINCETON. 


interesting  case  in  point.  In  that  sena- 
tor's account  of  the  occurrence,  he  says, 
among  other  things:  ^Lieutenant  Hunt 
caused  the  gun  to  be  worked,  to  show  the 
ease  and  precision  with  which  her  direc- 
tion could  be  changed,  and  then  pointed 
down  the  river  to  make  the  fire — himself 
and  the  gunners  standing  near  the  breech 
on  the  right.  I  opened  my  mouth  wide  to 
receive  the  concussion  on  the  inside  as  well 
as  on  the  outside  of  the  head  and  ears,  so 
as  to  lessen  the  force  of  the  external 
shock.      I  saw  the   hammer  pulled  back 


— heard  a  tap — saw  a  flash — felt  a  blast  in 
the  face,  and  knew  that  my  hat  was  gone ; 
and  that  was  the  last  that  I  knew  of  the 
world,  or  of  myself,  for  a  time,  of  which  I 
can  give  any  account.  The  first  that  I 
knew  of  myself,  or  of  anything  afterwards, 
was  rising  up  at  the  breech  of  the  gun, 
seeing  the  gun  itself  split  open,  —  two 
seamen,  the  blood  oozing  from  their  ears 
and  nostrils,  rising  and  reeling  near  me — 
Commodore  Stockton,  hat  gone,  and  face 
blackened,  standing  bolt  upright,  staring 
fixedly  upon  the  shattered  gun.   I  had  heard 


444 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


no  noise — no  more  than  the  dead.  I  only 
knew  that  the  gun  had  burst  from  seeing 
its  fragments.  I  had  gone  through  the 
experience  of  a  sudden  death,  as  if  from 
lightning,  whieli  extinguishes  knowledge 
and  sensation,  and  takes  one  out  of  the 
world  without  thought  or  feeling.  I  think 
I  know  what  it  is  to  die  without  knowing 
it,  and  that  such  a  death  is  nothing  to 
him  that  revives.  The  rapid  and  lucid 
working  of  the  mind  to  the  instant  of 
extinction,  is  the  marvel  that  still  aston- 
ishes me.  I  heard  the  tap — saw  the  flash, 
felt  the  blast — and  knew  nothing  of  the 
explosion.  I  was  cut  off  in  that  inappre- 
ciable point  of  time  which  intervened 
between  the  flash  and  the  fire — between 


the  burning  of  the  powder  in  the  .touch- 
hole,  and  the  burning  of  it  in  the  barrel  of 
the  gun.  No  mind  can  seize  that  point  of 
time,  no  thought  can  measure  it;  yet  to 
me  it  was  distinctly  marked,  divided  life 
from  death — the  life  that  sees,  and  feels, 
and  knows,  from  death  (for  such  it  was  for 
the  time),  which  annihilates  self  and  the 
world.  And  now  is  credible  to  me,  or 
rather  comprehensible,  what  persons  have 
told  me  of  the  rapid  and  clear  working  of 
the  mind  in  sudden  and  dreadful  catastro- 
phes—  as  in  steam-boat  explosions,  and 
being  blown  into  the  air — and  have  the 
events  of  their  lives  pass  in  review  before 
»  them,  and  even  speculate  upon  the  chances 
of  falling  on  the  deck  and  being  crushed, 


or  falling  on  the  warer  and  swimming: 
and  persons  recovered  from  drowning,  and 
running  their  whole  lives  over  in  the  inter- 
val between  losing  hope  and  losing  con- 
sciousness.' This  account,  written  by  Mr. 
Benton,  several  years  after  the  occurrence, 
shows  the  vivid  impression  made  upon  his 
mind. 

Of  similar  interest  was  the  experience 
of  Judge  Phelps,  senator  from  Vermont, 
who  was  nearer  to  the  gun  than  any  other 
guest,  and  who  had  at  his  side  a  young 
lady,  Miss  Sommerville,  from  Maryland. 
The  judge  was  prostrated,  his  hat  and  the 
lady's  bonnet  disappeared,  her  dress  was 
also  torn,  and  the  judge's  apparel  rent  and 
demolished.  The  lad^^'s  face  was  scorched, 
and  she  stood  like  a  statue, 
unconscious.  'I  took  a 
glance  at  the  scene,'  says 
the  judge,  writing  to  a 
friend,  '  caught  her  round 
the  waist,  and  carried  her 
below.  I  witnessed  a  scene 
there  which  I  shall  not  at- 
tempt to  describe — it  was 
one  of  agony,  frenzy  —  the 
shrieks  of  a  hundred  fe- 
males —  wives,  daughters, 
sisters  —  the  beauty,  the 
loveliness  of  the  land.  The 
imploring  appeals  to  know 
the  fate  of  the  nearest  and 
dearest  objects  of  their  af- 
fection can  not  be  forgotten.  '  Sir,'  said 
one,  '  theij  will  not  tell  me  about  my  lius- 
hand?  I  knew  her  not,  but  she  was  at  that 
moment  a  widow  —  her  husband  was  blown 
to  atoms !  You  will  hardly  believe  me 
when  I  tell  you  I  was  calm — collected.  It 
was  no  time  for  trepidation.  I  felt  as  if 
introduced  in  the  presence  of  vl\j  Maker. 
The  scene  was  unearthly;  ever}'-  selfish 
feeling  vanished — even  my  own  life  Avas  of 
no  account.  I  was  taken  to  the  portals  of 
eternity,  and  felt  that  I  was  surveying 
not  the  paltry  interests  of  time  and  sense, 
but  man's  eternal  destiny.  The  first  tear 
which  started  in  my  eye  fell  upon  the 
few  lines  which  conve3'ed  to  my  beloved 
and  devoted  wife  the  assurance  that  she 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


445 


•was  not  a  widow,  nor  her  cliilJren  father- 
less.' 

The  first  hours  after  the  appalling  catas- 
trophe were  marked,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, by  high  excitement.  Astonish- 
ment, and  a  feeling  of  dismay,  mingled 
with  intense  and  painful  curiosity,  seized 
upon  the  entire  community.  All  tongues 
were  busy  in  pressing  or  answering  in- 
quiries. Men  rushed  out  of  doors,  crowded 
the  resorts  of  public  intelligence,  gathered 
in  knots  about  the  streets,  and  with  eager 
countenances  turned  to  every  new-comer 
for  further  information. 

The  next  day,  crowds  poured  down  to 
the  wharf  where  the  bodies  were  expected 
to  be  landed,  and,  though  long  disap- 
pointed, continued  to  wait,  hour  after 
hour,  till  at  length  the  minute-guns  from 
below  announced  the  departure  of  the  cof- 
fins from  on  board  the  steamer,  and  the 
commencement  of  their  melancholy  route 
up  to  the  city. 

As  the  boat  which  bore  them  approached 
her  landing-place,  the  surrounding  shores 
were  covered  with  spectators,  while  a  long 
line  of  carriages  stood  in  waiting  to  follow 
in  the  train  which  bore  the  remains  of  the 
dead.  Six  hearses,  in  sad  contiguity,  stood 
side  by  side,  and  received  in  succession 
their  mournful  freight,  as  the  coflfins, 
borne  by  seamen  and  followed  each  by  an 
escort  of  naval  officers,  were  brought 
along  through  an  avenue  of  sympathizing 
citizens,  who  opened  to  the  right  and 
left  to  let  them  pass.  Scores  of  carriages 
followed  to  the  presidential  mansion, 
whither  the  dead  were  carried  by  the 
president's  particular  desire,  and  de- 
posited in  the  East  room.  That  vast 
apartment,  so  often  the  scene  of  brilliant 
festivity  —  so  often  echoing  the  strains  of 
joyous  music  and  the  mingled  voices  of  the 
gay  —  was  now  converted,  in  the  provi- 
dence of  God,  into  a  sepulchral  chamber, 
cold,  silent,  and  dark. 

Saturday  was  fixed  upon  for  the  funeral 
ceremonies,  and  the  city  was  filled  with 
those  who  came  to  witness  the  solemn 
rites  and  pomp  of  the  occasion,  the  bustle 
of  business  being  hushed  at  an  early  hour. 


Before  the  bodies  were  removed  from  the 
executive  mansion,  religious  services  were 
performed  by  Rev.  Messrs.  Hawley, 
Laurie,  and  Butler.  The  funeral  proces- 
sion was  then  formed,  and  presented  an 
imposing  couj)  iVceil.  Generals  Scott  and 
Jones  led  the  splendid  military  escort. 
Among  the  distinguished  pall-bearers 
were  Messrs.  Archer,  Morgan,  Bolton, 
Totten,  Worth,  Gibson,  Aulick,  Shubrick, 
Crane,  Towson,  Kennedy,  Hunt,  Barnard, 
Eish,  Fendall, — all  departments  of  the 
government,  legislative,  executive,  judi- 
cial, military  and  naval,  being  largely 
represented  in  the  vast  and  magnificent 
procession.  With  these  honors,  accom- 
panied by  minute-guns  and  tolling  bells, 
the  bodies  wei'e  borne  to  the  congressional 
burying-ground,  where  the  military  halted, 
and,  forming  in  line  in  front  of  the  gate, 
received  the  hearses  with  martial  salutes 
and  dirges.  Minute-guns  were  fired  from 
the  west  terrace  of  the  capitol  grounds, 
from  the  navy  yard,  and  from  other  points, 
as  the  cavalcade  proceeded  on  its  route  ; 
religious  services  were  again  performed, 
on  depositing  the  coffins  in  the  receiving 
vault ;  after  which,  the  military,  as  usual, 
closed  the  solemn  pageant  of  outward 
ceremonial,  by  firing  volleys  in  honor  of 
the  lamented  dead. 

By  direction  of  the  president,  Hon. 
John  Nelson  became,  ad  interhji,  secretary 
of  state ;  and  Commodore  Warrington,  in 
like  manner,  secretary  of  the  navy ;  in 
place  of  Messrs.  Upshur  and  Gilmer. 

Concerning  the  great  gun  used  on  this  oc- 
casion, and  of  which  Commodore  Stockton 
was  the  projector,  it  may  be  remarked  that 
it  was  manufactured  in  New  York,  and 
was  far  superior  in  point  of  workmanship 
to  its  companion,  the  '  Oregon,'  which  was 
made  in  England.  The  'Peacemaker' 
was  placed  in  the  bow  of  the  ship,  on  a 
revolving  carriage,  so  that  it  might  be 
fired  from  either  side.  An  ordinary 
charge  of  powder  for  it  was  thirty  pounds. 
It  carried  a  ball  weighing  two  hundred 
and  twenty-five  pounds  ;  and  such  was  the 
precision  with  which  it  could  be  fired,  as 
ascertained  from  actual  experiments,  that 


446 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


an  object  the  size  of  a  hogshead  could  be 
hit  nine  times  in  ten,  at  a  distance  of 
half  a  mile. 

The  gun  being  loaded,  the  first  thing 
was  to  ascertain  the  precise  distance  of 
the  object  to  be  fired  at,  this  being  done 
by  means  of  an  instrument,  constructed 
upon  trigonometrical  2>i"iiiciples,  the  scale 
on  which  indicated  the  distance  at  a 
glance.  The  next  thing  was  to  give  the 
gun  the  proper  elevation.  This  was  done 
by  means  of  a  self-acting  lock,  on  an  arm 
of  which  was  a  scale  that  indicated  the 
precise  elevation  necessary  to  reach  a 
given  distance  with  the  ball.  A  spring 
on  top  of  the  lock  was  then  brought  up 
to  the  point  indicated,  the  hammer  pulled 
back,  and,  at  the  very  point  of  time  when, 


-^ 


by  the  ship's  motion,  the  gun  reached  that 
point,  and  not  before  nor  afterward,  the 
gun  was  of  itself  discharged. 

The  weight  of  the  'Peacemaker'  was 
ten  tons  ;  its  length,  fifteen  feet ;  with  a 
bore  of  twelve  inches.  It  had  been  tested 
witli  a  charge  of  forty-nine  jtounds  of 
powder;  had  frequently  been  fired  with 
thirty  ;   it  exploded  with  twenty-five. 

A  few  days  before  the  exhibition  of  the 
ordnance  to  the  presidential  party,  there 
was  an  interesting  trial  of  the  gun, — its 
manner  of  working  and  its  powers — 
attended  with  most  satisfactory  results. 
All   the    preparation  for    firing,  with  the 


exception  simply  of  putting  the  powder 
and  ball  into  the  gun,  was  made  by  Com- 
modore Stockton  personally.  By  means 
of  a  tackle  fixed  to  the  breech,  a  motion 
was  given  to  the  gun  similar  to  that  im- 
parted by  a  heavy  swell,  and  when  it 
reached  the  point  indicated  it  was  dis- 
charged. The  ball  in  this  case  traveled 
about  two  miles  before  it  hit  the  water, 
and  then  bounded  several  times.  The 
Princeton  went  down  the  river  as  far  as 
Mount  Vernon.  In  going  down,  the 
'  Peacemaker '  was  discharged  three  times, 
and,  in  returning,  twice.  On  the  fourth 
fire,  the  ball  struck  on  the  land,  and  its 
effect  was  lost  sight  of  by  those  on  board 
—  so  that  the  party  demanded  another 
fire,  and  respectfully  requested  the  cap- 
tain to  put  in  a  little 
more  powder  this  time. 
Before  firing  for  the  fifth 
and  last  time,  the  cajjtain 
said  he  should  take  the 
sense  of  the  company. 
"  All  those  in  favor  of  an- 
other fire  will  say,  aye." 
The  air  resounded  with 
"aye!"  ''All  those  op- 
posed to  another  fire  will 
say,  no."  Not  a  solitary 
voice.  "  The  ayes  have 
it,"  said  the  captain  ;  "  I 
have  the  assent  of  con- 
gress, and  I'll  go  ahead." 
Probably  fifty  pounds  of 
powder  went  into  the 
'Peacemaker'  this  time.  As  before,  the 
gun  was  fired  by  the  captain  himself. 
The  ball  went,  probably,  four  miles  before 
it  struck.  It  bounded  fifteen  times  on  the 
ice,  in  the  course  of  which  it  j^erformed  a 
half  circle. 

Stockton  was  one  of  those  persevering 
and  enlightened  experimenters  who,  like 
James,  Rodman,  Wade,  Dahlgren,  Ames, 
Sawyer,  Parrott,  Hotchkiss,  Gillmore,  are 
an  honor  to  the  cause  of  military  science. 
It  was  in  1839,  while  in  England,  that  his 
attention  was  attracted  to  the  extraordi- 
nary and  important  improvements  there 
introduced   in  the  manufacture  of    large 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


447 


masses  of  wrought  iron  for  objects  requir- 
ing great  strength,  and  he  was  thus  led 
to  consider  the  question  how  far  the  same 
material  might  be  employed  in  the  con- 
struction of  cannon  of  large  caliber. 
Singular  enough,  when  Commodore  Stock- 
ton applied  to  a  manufacturer  to  do  the 
job,  he — the  manufacturer — declared  that 


it  could  not  be  done  ;  and  it  was  not  until 
Commodore  Stockton  had  promised  to  pay 
all  the  expense  of  an  attempt  out  of  his 
own  pocket,  that  the  manufacturer  would 
consent  to  make  a  trial.  In  a  short  time, 
the  manufacturer,  seeing  that  it  was  per- 
fectly practicable,  became  as  great  an  en- 
thusiast in  the  matter  as  Stockton  himself. 


\ 


LI. 

TRIAL   AND    DEGRADATION    OF    THE    BISHOPS   OF  THE 

NEW  YORK  AND  PENNSYLVANIA  DIOCESES,  FOR 

ALLEGED    IMMORALITY,    ETC.— 1844. 


These  Two  Most  Powerful  Prelates  in  the  Church  of  their  Order  are  Struclt  from  the  Roll  of  the 
Clergy,  while  in  the  Zenith  of  their  Fame. — No  Parallel  Case  among  Consecrated  Dignitaries,  since 
the  Reformation. — A  Case  of  Melancholy  Celebrity. — Extraordinary  even  to  Romance. — Other  Simi- 
lar Instances. — Exalted  Character  of  the  Bishops. — Venerable  Age — Splendid  Abilities — Terrible 
Effect  of  the  Scandal  — Confession  of  the  Bishop  of  Pennsylvania. — Interview  with  the  New  York 
Bishop. — His  alleged  Libertinism. — Solemn  Arraignment. — Some  of  the  Evidence  Given. — Charged 
with  Gross  Improprieties. — Testimony  of  Ladies. — His  Acts  while  Riding  to  Church. — The  House  of 
Ill-Fame  Story. — Its  Emphatic  Denial  by  the  Bishop. — Animus  of  the  whole  movement. — Pleas  of 
the  Rival  Counsel. — Found  "Guilty  by  his  Peers." — Sentence  of  Suspension  Imposed. — Efforts  to 
Restore  Him. — His  Dying  Declarations. — Affecting  Tributes  to  his  Memory  by  all  Parties. 


"Of  the  crimes  of  which  1  have  been  accused  and  for  which  I  have  been  condemned,  my  conscience  acquits  me,  in  the  sight  of  God.' 
Dyixo  Words  of  the  Vbserable  I'belate. 


ATHERED  together,  in  solemn  and  extraordinary  convocation,  the 
bishops  of  the  Episcopal  Church  in  the  United  States  proceeded, 
in  December,  1844,  to  try  the  Right  Rev.  B.  T.  Onderdonk,  D.  D., 
Bishop  of  the  diocese  of  New  York,  on  charges  of  ''  immorality  and 
impurity,"  presented  by  Bishops  Meade,  Otey,  and  Elliott. 

The  event,  so  unusual  and  astounding,  produced  a  most  profound 
sensation  in  every  part  of  the  country,  and  especially  in  the  religious 
world.  Nor  were  the  revelations  made  during  the  sitting  of  the 
court,  or  the  result  arrived  at,  any  less  startling  to  the  public  mind. 
For  the  first  time,  since  the  Rrformatiov ,  a  bishop  was  tried  and  condemned  hy  his 
peers  for  immorality.  Singularly  enough,  the  House  of  Bishops  had,  only  some  two 
montlis  previously,  passed  the  degrading  sentence  of  suspension  u^ion  Right  Rev.  H. 
U.  Onderdonk,  D.  D.,  bishop  of  the  diocese  of  Pennsylvania,  for  the  scandal  brought 
upon  the  church  and  his  own  private  and  official  character,  by  the  use  of  intoxicating 
liquor.s, — his  guilt  in  this  respect  being  voluntarily  acknowledged  to  the  house  of  bishops, 
who,  without  the  formality  of  a  trial,  i)roceeded  at  once,  at  the  request  of  the  unfor- 
tunate prelate,  to  pass  disciplinary  sentence,  namely  :  suspension  from  all  public  exer- 
cise of  the  office  and  functions  of  the  sacred  ministry,  and  from  all  exercise  whatever 
of  the  office  and  work  of  a  bishop. 

These  two  distinguished  men  were  brothers  ;  they  presided  over  the  two  richest  and 
most    conspicuously  influential  dioceses  in  the  Episcopal  Church  in   America;    they 


GREAT  AND  ME]NrORABLE  EVENTS. 


449 


wore  its  two  most  prominent  and  power- 
ful bishops.  History  presents  no  panillel 
to  such  a  case.  As  a  crowning  coinci- 
dence, their  successors  in  the  episcopate 
were  two  brothers,  Rev.  Drs.  Alonzo  and 
Horatio  Potter. 

From  these  peculiar  circumstances,  this 
chapter  in  the  ecclesiastical  historj'^  of  the 
United  States  possesses  an  interest  alto- 
gether its  own.  Other  religious  bodies 
have  been  called  to  lament  tlie  moral  de- 
fection of  some  of  their  leading  and  most 
honored  ministers,  but  the  high  position 
of  these  prelates,  as  bishops  of  eminent 
influence  and  renown,  invested  the  narra- 
tive of  their  delinquencies  with  marked 
and  melanchol}'  distinction. 

Bishop  Onderdonk,  of  New  York,  was 
a  graduate  of  Columbia  college,  and,  in 
his  twenty-first  year,  was  ordained  a  min- 
ister of  the  Episcopal  church,  by  Bishop 
Hobart.  When  but  twenty-three  j-ears 
of  age,  he  was  elected  an  assistant  minis- 
ter of  Trinity  church,  New  York  city, 
and  soon  succeeded  Rev.  Dr.  Lyell  as 
secretary  of  the  diocesan  convention.  On 
tlie  death  of  Bishop  Hobart,  in  1830,  Dr. 
Onderdonk  was  chosen  to  succeed  him  in 
his  high  office,  the  act  of  consecration 
being  performed  by  Bishops  White, 
Brownell,  and  H.  U.  Onderdonk. 

The  charges  now  brought  against  him, 
in  his  gray-haired  years,  came  upon  his 
friends  and  the  community,  like  a  clap  of 
thunder  from  a  clear  sky.  For  more  than 
half  a  century  he  had  resided  in  New 
York  city — the  home  of  his  birth,  the 
scene  of  his  education,  the  chief  seat  of 
his  labors.  For  almost  a  generation  he 
had  exercised  the  Cliristian  ministry. 
His  childhood  and  youth  were  singular  in 
purity  and  piety.  For  twenty  years  he 
was  connected  with  the  largest  Ei)iscopal 
parish  in  tlie  country.  He  was  also  a 
most  devoted  pastor — faithful  and  capable, 
quite  to  a  proverb,  in  what  is  called  the 
business  of  the  church,  diocesan  and 
general  ;  and,  as  theological  professor,  he 
trained  a  multitude  of  the  most  useful 
ministers,  as  well  as  several  bishops,  for 
their  sacred  office.  A  change,  then,  so 
29 


great  and  so  disastrous,  in  the  position  of 
the  bishop,  as  that  indicated  in  the  charges 
preferred  against  him — that  his  old  age 
should  thus  suddenly  be  made  to  contrast 
so  criminally  with  his  chiklhood,  youth, 
and  long-known  manhood — presented  the 
case  in  an  aspect,  extraordinary  to  the 
very  borders  of  romance.  'From  his 
youth  up,' he  bore  the  reputation  of  being 
grave,  sedate,  thoughtful,  pure-minded, 
correct  in  his  principles,  and  unspotted  in 
life. 

On  the  organization  of  the  court,  the 
presenting  bishops  were  aided  by  Mr. 
Hiram  Ketchum,  and  Gerardus  Clarke, 
and  the  accused  by  Mr.  David  B.  Ogden, 
and  Mr.  David  Graham.  The  specifica- 
tions against  the  bishop  cite  sundry  acts 
of  an  indecent  and  grossly  insulting  char- 
acter towards  resi:)ectable  ladies,  committed 
in  despite  of  their  indignant  resistance, 
bj'^  thrusting  his  hand  into  their  bosoms, 
and  otherwise  using  such  immodest  famil- 
iarities with  their  persons  as  ai-e  utterl}' 
irreconcilable  with  the  profession  of  a  pri- 
vate Christian,  much  more  intolerable  in 
the  case  of  a  minister  of  the  goppol,  and, 
most  of  all,  inconsistent  with  the  pure 
example  of  a  bishop. 

The  evidence,  direct  or  collateral,  upon 
which  the  prosecutors  chiefly  relied  to 
sustain  their  charges,  was  that  given  by 
Rev.  Dr.  Butler  and  his  wife,  Mrs.  Beare, 
the  two  Misses  Rudderow,  and  Rev. 
Messrs.  Taylor,  Trapier,  Richmond,  Mil- 
nor,  Muhlenberg,  and  Wainwright. 

The  statement  made  by  Mrs.  Butler 
was  as  follows,  the  occurrences  transpiring 
in  a  carriage  having  two  seats,  the  party 
consisting  of  Mr.  Butler  and  Mr.  Peck, 
who  sat  in  front,  and  Mrs.  Butler  and 
Bishop  Onderdonk,  who  occupied  the  back 
seat, — the  journey  being  from  Ithaca  to 
S^'x-acuse,  at  which  latter  place  Mr.  But- 
ler was  to  be  ordained  by  the  bishoj:) : — I 
noticed  immediately  (says  this  witness,) 
that  the  bishop's  breath  was  tainted  by 
something  he  had  been  drinking.  I  was 
neither  surprised  nor  pained  by  it,  for  I 
was  aware  that  he  habituallj^  used  wine 
and  ardent  spirits.     He  soon  became  un- 


450 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


usually  talkative,  and  spoke  so  indistinctly 
that  I  could  not  always  understand  him. 
He  first  put  his  arm  around  my  waist  and 
drew  me  towards  him  ;  this  he  repeated 
once,  perhaps  twice.  He  had  often  done 
this  when  I  was  unmarried,  and  I  had 
permitted  it,  though  always  disagreeable 
to  me,  because  I  believed  him  incapable 
of  wrong.  At  this  time,  however,  I  re- 
moved his  hand  each   time,  because  I  saw 


TRINITY  CnURCH.   NEW    YORK. 

he  was  not  liiniself.  The  bisliop  persisted 
in  putting  his  arm  about  me,  and  raised 
his  hand  so  as  to  press  my  bosom.  I  then 
rose  and  withdrew  tlie  arm  from  behind 
me,  and  laid  his  liand  upon  his  knee,  and 
said  to  him  in  a  raised  tone  of  voice,  hop- 
ing to  bring  him  to  himself,  and  wishing 
to  attract  Mr.  Butler's  attention,  that  a 
bishop's  hands  were  sacred  in  my  eyes, 
and  that  his  were  particularly  so,  because 


they  had  been  laid  upon  the  heads  of 
many  I  loved  in  confirmation,  and  were 
about  to  be  laid  upon  my  husband's  head 
in  ordination.  He  made  but  little  answer, 
but  for  some  little  time  let  me  alone. 
While  sitting  in  thought,  I  found  he  was 
again  moving:  I  waited  to  see  whether  he 
might  not  be  merely  steadying  himself  in 
his  seat,  as  the  roads  were  rough,  when  he 
suddenly  and  violently  again  brought  his 
hand  upon  my  bosom,  pressed  and  clasped 
it.  AVith  some  horror  I  struck  the  hand 
Avith  all  my  force,  and  he  Avithdrew  it ; 
but  immediately  grasped  my  leg  in  the 
most  indelicate  manner.  I  sprang  for- 
ward to  my  husband,  and  told  him  I  could 
no  longer  sit  with  the  bishop ;  I  must  sit 
with  him.  I  was  greatly  distressed,  and 
Mr.  Butler  held  me  on  his  knee  for  some 
time,  I  riding  sometimes  on  his  knee,  and 
sometimes  on  a  carpet-bag  at  his  feet. 
At  the  varioits  stopping-places  where  we 
got  out  and  rested,  my  whole  efforts  were 
needed  by  my  husband  to  soothe  him,  he 
being  violently  incensed. 

Miss  Jane  Rudderow,  another  witness 
for  the  prosecution,  gave  in  tlie  following 
statement: — On    the  thirteenth   of  June, 
1841,     Bishop     Onderdonk     visited     St. 
James's  church  in  this  city  (New  York). 
I  left  the  church  before  the  close  of  the 
morning  service,  in  consequence  of  a  ner- 
vous  headache.      He    returned    with   my 
sister  Helen  to  dine,  at  the  house  of  my 
brother.      I    went  down   to    the    drawing- 
room,    at    sister    Helen's    request,    to    see 
him.     He    was    standing    by    the    center- 
table  when   I   entered.      He   advanced  to 
meet   me   with   extended   hand,  and   said, 
'My  daughter,  I  must  cure  you  of  these 
nervous    headaches,'  and    led    me    to    the 
sofa.       I    sat    down  in  the    center    of    the 
sofa.        Bishop     Onderdouk     immediately 
thrust  his  hand  in  my  bosom.     I  moved 
to  the  other  end  of  the  sofa.      He  followed 
me,  and  repeated  the  insult.     I  was  afraid 
to    scream,  or  even  reprove  him  ;  for  my 
two  brothers  were  in  the  hall.     I  was  re- 
lieved by  the  entrance  of  my  sister-in-law. 
After  dinner  we  went   on   to  the  piazza. 
Bishop  Onderdonk  requested  me  to  show 


GKEAT  AND  .MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


451 


liim  'Sir.  Schermerhorii's  house,  wliich  I 
(lid  by  walking  to  tin-  north  end  of  the 
piazza.  He  threw  liis  arms  around  my 
neck,  and  I  retreated  into  the  drawing- 
room,  where  my  mother,  and  sister,  and 
sister-in-law,  immediately  followed  me. 
It  was  a  stormy  day,  and  I  went  to  the 
window-shade,  to  go  undei-neath  it,  to  see 
if  it  had  ceased  raining.  Much  to  my 
surprise,  Bishop  Onderdonk  was  imme- 
diately at  mj"^  side,  and  moved  his 
hand  in  such  a  manner  as  caused  me 
great  alarm.  I  threw  his  hand  away 
from  me,  and  retreated  from  under- 
neath the  shade.  I  observed  my  mother 
regarding  me  intently.  My  mother  after- 
wards asked  me,  'Jane,  what  did  the 
bishop  do  to  you,  that  made  3'ou  look  so 
when  you  came  from  the  window  ?  for  I  can 
read  your  face  like  a  book ;  and  3'ou  looked 
so  deeply  mortified.'  The  Rev.  Mr.  Dowd- 
ney  several  times  requested  us  to  have 
the  bishop  at  dinner,  on  his  visit,  June 
eighteenth,  1843,  but  I  answered,  and 
Helen  also,  'He  never  shall  dine  at  our 
house  again ;  or  if  so,  we  will  not  be 
present.' 

The  sister  of  the  preceding  confirmed 
the  testimony  given  by  that  witness,  and 
gave  this  account  of  the  bishop's  conduct 
while  she  rode  with  him  on  the  back  seat 
of  a  carriage  driven  by  Rev.  J.  C.  Rich- 
mond, from  St.  James's  church  : — We  had 
not  proceeded  very  far  from  the  church, 
when  Bishop  Onderdonk  put  his  arm 
around  my  neck,  and  otherwise  behaved  in 
a  familiar  manner;  this  he  continued  to 
do.  I  was  very  much  surprised  and  agi- 
tated, and  would  have  jumped  from  the 
carriage,  had  it  not  been  for  exposing  him 
to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Richmond.  He  kept 
repeating  the  offense,  until  we  reached 
home,  whei'e  he  was  to  dine  with  us.  I 
immediately  went  to  the  room  occupied 
by  my  sister  and  myself,  and  told  her 
what  had  happened.  1  entreated  her  to 
go  down  and  entertain  him,  as  the  family 
were  not  yet  prepared  to  do  so ;  she  con- 
sented, upon  condition  that  I  should  fol- 
low as  soon  as  I  could  sufficiently  compose 
myself. 


Of  similar  purport  was  the  evidence 
given  by  Mrs.  Beare,  wife  of  Rev.  H.  M. 
Beare,  rector  of  the  church  at  Bayside, 
L.  I.,  namely:  —  Rode  to  Zion  church, 
with  the  bishop,  where  he  was  to  perform 
confirmation.  My  husband's  mother  and 
his  nephew  sat  on  the  front  seat ;  the 
bishop  and  myself  on  the  back  one.  Dur- 
ing this  ride,  the  bishop  put  his  arm 
around  me  in  an  unbecoming  manner, 
which  caused  me  to  draw  from  him;  his 
hand  pressed  upon  my  bosom.  1  first 
communicated  the  knowledge  of  this 
transaction  to  my  husband.  1  told  him  I 
did  not  wish  to  ride  with  the  bislio[)  in 
the  afternoon,  as  I  thought  him  too 
familiar  in  his  manners.  He  asked  me  in 
what  way.  I  told  him  of  the  occurrence 
of  the  morning,  and  he  expressed  great 
surprise,  sa^-ing,  'If  you  can  avoid  it,  do 
not  let  it  alter  your  manner  towards  him 
while  he  is  in  our  house.'  The  bishop  dined 
at  our  house  after  the  morning  service. 
While  there,  the  bishop  put  his  arm 
around  me,  and  once  raised  my  head  by 
my  chin,  and  kissed  me.  After  the  after- 
noon service,  I  rode  with  Mr.  Thomas 
Beare,  my  husband's  brother ;  the  bishop 
rode  with  my  husband,  and  I  think  his 
nephew,  in  another  carriage.  We  went 
to  the  house  of  Mr.  Joseph  L.  Franklin. 
I  rode  as  far  as  the  top  of  the  lane  with 
Thomas  Beare ;  he  was  going  directly 
home  and  not  to  Mr.  Franklin's.  1  left 
his  vehicle  and  rode  the  remainder  of  the 
way  with  the  bishop  and  my  husband. 
Returned  from  IMr.  Franklin's  about  nine 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  in  a  one-horse 
family  barouche,  our  own,  with  two  seats 
to  accommodate  four  persons;  the  bishop 
and  myself  were  on  the  back  seat,  my  hus- 
band and  his  nephew  on  the  front.  On 
this  ride,  the  bishop  put  his  arm  around 
my  waist ;  then  raised  it,  and  put  it  across 
the  back  of  my  neck  ;  he  thrust  his  hand 
into  the  neck  of  m)'  dress,  down  into  my 
bosom.  I  threw  his  hand  from  there  ;  he 
immediately  put  it  upon  another  part  of 
my  person.  I  pushed  it  aside  from  there, 
and  he  then  with  the  other  h;ind  repeated 
the  same  movement  upon  the  other  side. 


452 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


and  this  he  continued  to  do,  with  much 
persistency,  and  with  the  same  indifference 
to  the  resistance  made  by  me,  from  the  be- 
ginning of  his  approaches,  by  all  the  means 
in  my  power.  I  went  immediately  to  my 
room,  when  we  reached  home.  My  husband 
soon  followed  me,  and  asked  the  cause  of 
my  agitation.  I  told  him  the  bishop  had 
insulted  me.  He  replied,  'Say  no  more 
now  ;  let  us  join  the  family,  and  have  our 
evening  devotions.'  I  calmed  myself,  and 
went  down  into  the  room.  On  the 
bishop's  departure,  he  approached  me  and 


adduced  to  this  end;  and  the  asserted  dis- 
crepancies and  inconsistencies  characteriz- 
ing some  of  the  statements  made  to  his 
prejudice,  were  mainly  relied  upon  by  the 
bishop's  counsel,  in  their  legal  manage- 
ment of  the  case. 

Long  before  the  matter  was  brought  to 
public  trial,  Bishop  Onderdonk  was  waited 
upon  in  private,  by  some  of  the  most  emi- 
nent and  venerable  clergymen  of  the  dio- 
cese, for  the  purpose  of  calling  his  atten- 
tion to  the  reports  which  were  then  in 
circulation.     These  clergymen  were  Rev. 


took  my  hand,  and  advanced — as  I  sup- 
posed, to  kiss  me;  I  drew  from  him,  and 
he  did  not  do  it.  I  did  not  extend  my 
hand ;  he  took  it.  After  he  was  seated  in 
the  carriage,  he  raised  his  hand  to  his 
lips,  and  waved  it  to  me. 

Against  all  the  charges  by  the  prosecut- 
ing bishops,  and  the  evidence  thus  brought 
forward  to  prove  them,  Bishoi)  Onderdonk 
entered  his  solemn  and  unequivocal  denial, 
so  far  at  least  as  those  charges  and  that 
evidence  alleged  any  impure  intention  on 
his   part.     Evidence   and   argument   were 


Drs.  Milnor,  Wainwright,  IMuhlenberg, 
and  Higbee.  The  interview  was  held  in 
the  bishop's  study,  Dr.  Milnor  opening  the 
conversation  in  regard  to  the  object  of  the 
visit,  namely,  an  allegation  made  by  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Beare,  of  improper  familiarities 
on  the  part  of  the  bishop  towards  his  wife  ; 
that  these  were  said  to  have  occurred  in  a 
carriage  in  which  he  rode  with  INIrs. 
Beare,  in  the  first  place  in  going  to  or 
from  the  church  in  the  forenoon,  the 
church  being  the  one  where  the  bishop 
confirmed  that  day  ;  that  familiarities  of  a 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


453 


still  more  objectionable  kind  had  been 
indulged  in  by  the  bislio[)  in  the  evening, 
in  ritling  from  a  house  where  they  had 
taken  tea — understood  to  be  the  house  of  a 
parisliioner — to  Mr.  Beare's  home;  that 
Mr.  Beare  had  communicated  the  facts  to 
Rev.  Dr.  Muhlenberg,  who  committed 
them  to  writing.  The  bishop  was  further 
informed  that  Dr.  Muhlenberg  had  advised 
j\[r.  Beare  to  have  the  matter  brought 
before  the  bishop, — Dr.  Muhlenberg  offer- 
ing to  come  down  to  the  city  to  attend  to 
the  business, — and  both  Dr.  Muhlenberg 
and  Dr.  Wainwright  requesting  Dr.  Mil- 
nor's  company  on  the  intended  visit. 

After  the  subject  had  thus  been  laid 
before  the  bishop,  he  positively  dcTiied  the 
charge;  and  expressed  his  astonishment, 
tliat  a  lady  of  respectable  character,  as  he 
presumed  Mrs.  Beare  to  be,  should  make 
such  assertions.  The  bishop  was  asked, 
whether  he  would  be  willing  to  see  Mr. 
Beare,  to  which  he  made  answer  that  he 
had  no  objection,  and  Dr.  Muhlenberg 
said  he  would  send  w^ord  to  Mr.  Beare  to 
come  down  the  next  day.  Messrs.  Milnor, 
Muhlenberg,  Higbee,  and  Beare,  visited  the 
bishop  on  that  day.  They  found  him  in 
his  study,  from  which  he  took  them  into 
the  back  room,  and  closed  tlte  door.  The 
bishop  took  Mr.  Beare  by  the  hand,  and 
said,  "  Mr.  Beare,  I  have  a  very  high 
regard  and  respect  for  you,  and  would  not 
wound  your  or  Mrs.  Beare's  feelings  inten- 
tionally. This  is  a  very  painful  subject." 
On  their  being  seated,  he  said,  "  I  can 
assure  j'ou  of  my  kind  feelings  towards 
you,  Mr.  Beare,  and  towards  your  wife." 
To  this,  Mr.  Beare  responded,  "  Do  you 
deny,  sir,  what  Mrs.  Beare  saj'^s  you  were 
guilty  of  ?  "  He  said,  "  /  do  not  deny  it. 
But  Mrs.  Beare  has  misunderstood  or  mis- 
construed my  viotines."  He  then  said, 
"  Offer  an  apology  to  Mrs.  Beare,  and  if 
she  demand  any  further  apology,  I  am 
ready  to  make  it." 

Tears  stood  in  the  eyes  of  the  bishop,  as 
he  made  this  declaration,  and  both  he  and 
Mr.  Beare  were  much  affected.  The  pro- 
testations of  the  bishop,  as  to  his  having 
no  improper  intention,  were  repeated  sev- 


eral times.  Dr.  Milnor  expressed  to 
Bishop  Onderdonk,  before  parting,  the 
hope  that  what  had  occurred  in  this 
instance  would  put  him  on  his  guard  in 
f  utnre.  To  which  the  bishop  replied,  "  In 
regard  to  rumors  of  this  kind,  doctor, 
about  clergymen,  there  are  few  who  have 
not,  at  some  time,  had  to  encounter  them." 
Dr.  Milnor  then  said,  "  I  do  not  know  how 
that  may  be,  but,  in  regard  to  myself,  I 
have  been  nearly  thirty  years  in  the  min- 
istry, and  have  never  had  occasion  to 
encounter  such  a  difficulty." 

The  church  and  the  communitj'  were 
filled  with  rumors  of  the  bishop's  conduct, 
a  considerable  period  preceding  any  initia- 
tion of  official  inquiry  into  the  case. 
When,  however,  things  took  a  legal  shape, 
according  to  the  canons  of  the  church,  and 
Bishop  Onderdonk  was  notified  by  the 
three  jiresenting  bishops,  of  their  action  in 
the  premises,  he  reiterated  his  absolute 
and  entire  innocence,  adding  :  "  You  have 
had  your  ears  open  to  all  the  gossip  and 
scandal  which  men  reducing  themselves  to 
the  low  caste  of  informers  and  panders, 
could  seek  out  and  scrape  together,  for  the 
use  of  my  inveterate  enemies.  It  being 
thus  known  that  there  were  bishops  here 
who  made  it  their  business  to  receive, 
examine,  and  sift  such  testimony,  has  done 
more  to  bring  public  scandal  on  the  church 
than  all  else  connected  with  this  business, 
and  has  given  an  intensity  of  malignant 
effort  to  men  desperately  set  upon  my 
ruin.  You  have  thus  been  the  means  of 
creating  the  public  rumor  which  is,  I 
understand,  an  assumed  ground  of  action 
for  the  defense  and  purifying  of  the  church. 
Thus  have  you  contributed  to  make  me,  and 
through  me  our  office,  our  church,  and  our 
religion,  a  scoffing  to  the  profane ;  and  done 
not  a  little  to  aggravate  my  wretchedness, 
and  help  the  purpose  of  my  enemies  to 
bring  on  my  ruin.  Contrast  with  all  this 
what  you  say  of  friendly  and  Christian 
feelings  towards  me.  You  speak  of  having 
been  enabled  to  clear  up  satisfactorily  one 
of  the  most  disacfreenhle  of  the  charges 
which  had  been  laid  before  you.  What 
this  is,  you  say  not.     Report,  before  I  left 


404 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


PliilaJelphia,  and  since  I  came  home, 
lias  said  that  you  were  in  possession  of  an 
affidavit  cliarging  me  with  pvetictice  in  a 
house  of  iU-fami'.  Tlie  report,  as  was  to 
be  expected,  spread  wild!}-.  As  was  also 
to  be  expected,  it  swelled  in  character 
until  the  net  was  niaguitied  into  a  habit. 
As  my  friends,  you  were  bound  to  give 
me  at  once  the  name  of  my  false  accuser, 
that  he  might  be  summarily  prosecuted  for 
his  villainy."  Such  was  the  storm  of 
accusation  which  the  bishop  had  to  breast, 
and  to  meet  which,  according  to  the  terms 
of  legal  investigation,  he  was  summoned 
before  his  peers. 

The  solemn  (convocation  Avas  held,  the 
anxiety  and  excitement  of  the  public  mind 
being  strained  to  their  utmost  tension. 
The  principal  evidence  in  support  of  the 
charges  has  already  been  cited.  Its 
extreme  improbability  was  a  leading  point 
in  the  masterly  argument  made  by  Mr. 
Graham,  in  defense  of  the  bishop.  "Is  it 
possible,"  said  Mr.  Graham,  "  that  any 
man  of  sense — without  saying  one  word — 
without  making  a  single  advance  in  the 
shape  of  language,  either  indelicate  or 
otherwise,  as  she  states — with  a  lady  of 
wdioni  111'  knew  very  little,  could  take  such 
liberties  as  those  described  ?  Is  it  at  all 
within  the  limits  of  possibility,  that  a  man 
could,  while  riding,  in  broad  daylight,  in 
company  with  a  clergyman  with  whom  he 
was  constantly  engaged  in  conversation, 
take  such  liberties  with  a  lady  sitting  by 
his  side — thrust  his  hand  into  her  bosom 
repeatedly,  and  keep  it  there — and  expect 
to  escape  detection  and  exposure?  Is  it 
possible  that  the  circumstances  could  have 
occurred,  consistently  with  any  of  the 
motives  wliich  ordinarily  attach  to  human 
action  ?  "  Mr.  Graham's  plea  was  very 
eloquent  throughout. 

In  reply  to  tliis  argument  of  impossibil- 
ity, the  counsel  for  the  prosecution,  Mr. 
Ketchum,  said:  "I  think  what  you  may 
regard  impossible  and  revolting,  wovdd  be 
testified  to  as  qmtn  possible  1)y  yonder 
man  who  stands  at  the  corner  watching  to 
betray  female  innocence,  day  after  day  ; 
and  by  thousands  in  this  city  who  are  in 


the  very  embraces  of  death.  Give  me  the 
man  with  strong  lustful  desires,  unre- 
strained by  moral  principle,  and  I  tell  you 
that  nothing  is  impossible  to  him.  He 
will  accomjdish  his  object,  and  that  in 
ways  utterly  unsuspected  and  unknown  by 
the  pure  and  virtuous  man.  The  difficulty 
in  the  case,  and  there  is  none  other,  is, 
that  the  bishop  would  do  the  thing  at  all. 
Now  I  may  speak  of  a  case  which  was 
notorious.  A  few  years  ago,  in  a  neigh- 
boring city,  there  dwelt  a  minister  of  the 
gospel,  not  an  Episcopalian,  learned,  ac^ 
complished — moving  in  the  best  society; 
and  3'et  that  man  would  start  with  his 
family  for  the  house  of  God,  and  return  on 
some  pretense  or  another  to  his  dwelling, 
and  there  perpetrate  the  most  shocking 
acts  with  his  negro  cook.  Why,  every  man 
said  that  was  inifynssih/c,  and  it  would  not 
have  been  believed  if  sworn  to  by  the  negro 
cook;  but  in  the  honesty  of  his  heart, 
when  he  was  found  guilty  of  other  offenses, 
he  confessed  the  whole.  He  laid  the 
whole  open — he  confessed  his  deeds,  black 
as  they  were — he  submitted  to  the  disci- 
pline of  his  church.  Now,  we  must  not 
talk  of  things  being  impossible." 

After  due  deliberation,  the  final  decision 
of  a  majority  of  the  court  was,  to  declare 
him  guilty  of  immorality  and  impurity. 
This  was  concurred  in  by  Bishops  Chase, 
Brownell,  Hopkins,  Smith,  Mcllvaine, 
Polk,  Lee,  Johns,  Eastburn,  Henshaw,  and 
Freeman ;  and  sentence  was  thereupon 
decreed,  suspending  the  accused  from  all 
exercise  of  his  functions  as  minister  and 
bishop.  Of  the  other  bishops  constituting 
the  court,  some  were  in  favor  of  a  verdict 
of  not  guilt}',  others  for  admonition,  etc. 
The  bishops  not  included  in  the  majority 
just  named,  were  Messrs.  Meade,  Ote}', 
Elliott,  Ives,  Doane,  Kemper,  DeLancey, 
Gadsden,  Wittingham.  The  final  sentence 
of  suspension,  however,  was  generall}'  ac- 
quiesced in. 

Outside  of  the  court,  it  was  charged  by 
the  friends  of  the  accused,  who  were  many, 
and  influential  and  unwavering,  that  per- 
sonal and  doctrinal  hostility  to  Bishoj) 
Onderdonk,  was  at  the  foundation  of  this 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


455 


movement.  The  bisliop,  supported  by 
siuli  men  as  Seabury,  Haight,  lierrian, 
MeVicai',  Price,  and  Shelton,  was  regarded 
as  ui)liolding  '  Higli  Church'  views;  op- 
jtosed  to  whicli  were  men  like  Anthon, 
Tyng,  Hawks,  Duer,  Oakley,  etc.  It  was 
alleged,  too,  that  this  same  theological  bit- 
terness was  the  cause  of  the  opposition  so 
strenuously  made  to  the  bishoj)'s  restora- 
tion to  the  episcopate  in  after  years,  not- 
withstanding the  efforts  put  forth  by  his 
friends  for  the  remission  of  his  sentence. 

Thus,  in  the  zenith  of  their  fame,  these 
two  powerful  bishops  were  struck  down 
from  the  highest  ecclesiastical  position 
known  in  the  Protestant  Church.  Bishop 
Onderdonk,  of  Pennsylvania,  received  a 
remission  of  his  sentence  after  the  lapse  of 
twelve  years ;  but  age  and  infirmity  pre- 
vented other  than  occasional  ministrations, 
and  he  died  soon  after,  in  the  seventieth 
year  of  his  age.  A':  the  same  age,  like- 
wise, died  the  suspended  bishop  of  New 
York,  namely,  on  the  thirtieth  of  April, 
1861.  His  funeral  took  place  at  Trinity 
church.  Dr.  Seabury  preaching  the  funeral 
sermon,  and  the  pall-bearers  were  Rev. 
Messrs.  Southgate,  Berrian,  Creighton, 
Brown,  Price,  Cutler,  Hawks,  Leonard, 
Porter,  Parker,  Johnson,  Gallaudet,  Dra- 
per, and  others.  All  parties  in  the  church 
united  to  do  honor  to  the  memory  of  the 
deceased. 

In  his  last  sickness,  the  bishop  of  New 
York,  though  very  weak  in  body,  was  fully 
possessed  of  his  mind,  and  conversed  quite 


freely.  On  being  visited  by  Rev.  Dr. 
Vinton,  Dr.  Vinton  suggested  that  if  the 
Ijisliup  desired  prayers,  it  woulil  be  gratis 
fying  to  him  to  minister  to  him  in  that 
way.  He  answered,  "Do  so,  doctor:  it 
would  be  very  comforting  and  desirable." 
The  "  Office  of  the  Visitation  of  the  Sick" 
was  used,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end, 
also  the  prayer  for  "  A  sick  j)erson  when 
there  appeareth  but  little  hope  of  recovery." 

The  bishop  made  every  response  audibly, 
while  lying  on  his  bed,  with  his  hands 
clasped  and  eyes  looking  up  to  heaven. 

Among  the  questions  to  be  asked  in  the 
Examination  of  the  Sick,  are  these  :  "Do 
you  repent  you  truly  of  your  sins  ?  Are 
you  in  charity  with  all  the  world  ?  "  The 
bishop  closed  his  eyes  while  he  spoke  of 
himself  as  a  sinner,  both  in  thought,  word, 
and  deed;  saying  that  "in  his  most  earn- 
est endeavors  to  live  for  Christ  and  the 
church,  as  well  as  in  exercising  himself  to 
have  a  conscience  void  of  offense  towards 
God  and  towards  man,  he  saw  infirmity 
a]id  pollution," — then,  opening  his  eyes, 
he  added,  "but  the  holiest  man,  equally 
with  the  most  sinful,  finds,  in  the  hour  of 
death,  that  every  hope  on  which  he  relies 
for  salvation  is  dispersed  but  one — all  but 
one — our  Savior,  Jesus  Christ.  He  is  the 
Rock  of  Ages."  Then,  looking  Dr. 
Vinton  in  the  face,  the  bishop  said  with 
solemn  earnestness,  "  Of  the  crimes  of 
which  I  have  been  accused  and  for  which 
I  have  been  condemned,  my  conscience 
acquits  me,  in  the  sight  of  God." 


"it  stixoei'h  like  A>'  addeu.' 


LII. 

mSCOVERY  OF  THE  INHALATION  OF  ETHER  AS  A  PRE- 
VENTIVE   OF   PAIN.— 1846. 


Performance  of  Surgical  Operations  Involving  the  Intensest  Torture,  During  the  Happy  Unconscious- 
ness of  the  Patient. — Account  of  the  First  Capital  Denionstration  Before  a  Crowded  and  Breathless 
Assembly. — Its  Signal  Success. — Thrill  of  Enthusiastic  Joy  — Most  Beneficent  Boon  Ever  Conferred 
by  Science  upon  the  Human  Race. — Instinctive  Dread  of  Pain  — Fruitless  Search  Hitherto  for  a  Pre- 
ventive.— Terror  of  the  Probe  and  Knife. — Heroes  Quail  Before  Them. — Case  of  the  Bluff  Old 
Admiral. — Discovery  of  the  Long-sought  Secret. — Sulphuric  Ether  the  Prize. — Bliss  During  Ampu- 
tation — Honor  Due  to  America. — A  Whole  World  Elated. — Medical  Men  Exultant. — Curious  Relig- 
ious Objections — Test  Case  in  Surgery. — Startling  and  Romantic  Interest. — Value  in  Public  Hos- 
pitals.— War-Sufferings  Ameliorated  — Various  Effects  white  Inhaling. — Amusing  and  Extraordinary 
Cases.— "  Thocht  the  Deil  had  a  Grip  o'  her !  "—Odd  Talk  of  an  Innocent  Damsel.— Old  Folks 
Wanting  to  Dance  — Awards  to  the  Discoverers. 


'■  The  fierce  extremitf  of  sufferine  has  been  steeped  in  the  vraters  of  forgetfulneas,  and  the  deepest  furrow  in  the  knotted  brow  o( 
agony  bus  been  smoothed  forever."— Prof.  O.  W.  Holues. 


UMANITY  — even  tlie  hardiest 
and  bravest  portions  of  it  —  in- 
stinctively shrinks,  with  dread, 
from  the  pain  attendant  u[)on  a 
deliberate  cutting  of  the  living 
flesh  by  surgical  instruments. 
The  case  is  related  of  a  bluff 
old  English  admiral — one  of  the 
stoutest  hearts  that  ever  beat,  in 
a  service  whose  men  of  every 
grade  are,  to  a  proverb,  daunt- 
KKLiicvmo  PAIN  nv  TiTE  USE  OF  F.THFR.  Icss, — wlio,  iu  tlic  opcuiug  of  liis 

distinguished  career,  had  been  engaged  in  cutting  out  an  enemy's  frigate.  From  the 
gun-boat,  he  climbed  up  the  ship's  steep  side,  and,  foremost  of  his  crew,  had  reached  the 
bulwarks,  when,  receiving  a  stunning  blow,  he  fell  into  his  boat  again,  striking  his 
back  with  great  violence.  Years  afterwards,  a  tumor  had  grown  on  the  injured 
part;  and  at  length  the  admiral — gray,  and  bent  in  years — found  it  advisable  tbat 
this  growth  should  be  removed.  The  man  that  never  feared  death  in  its  most  ghastly 
and  ai)palling  form,  now  shrank  from  the  surgeon's  knife  ;  the  removal,  contemplated  by 
the  man  of  many  battles  with  feeling  almost  akin  to  childish  fear,  was  long  deferred; 
and  at  length,  half  stupefied  by  opium  though  he  was,  a  most  unsteady  patient  did  he 
prove  during  the  operation. 


GREAT  AND  JMEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


457 


Numberless  instances  liave  there  been, 
too,  of  women — mothers — who,  for  their 
kindred,  have  been  at  any  time  ready  to  sac- 
rifice tlieir  lives,by  watcliing  and  i)rivation, 
in  loathsome  and  tainted  chambers  of  infec- 
tious disease,  but,  when  themselves  be- 
came victims  of  that  which  they  knew  re- 
quired a  surgical  operation,  and  which, 
without  this,  they  were  well  assured  must 
miserably  consume  them  away, —  even 
these  noble  minds,  resolute  in  the  prospect 
of  death,  have  yet  quailed  under  the  fear 
of  surgical  suffering;  they  have  studiously 
concealed  their  malady  from  their  nearest 
friends,  and  deliberately  preferred  the 
misery  of  a  fatal,  and  unchecked,  and 
gnawing  cancer,  to  the  apprehended  tor- 
ture of  an  operation,  temporary  though  it 
be.  This  feeling  has  been  universal,  in 
all  ages,  among  the  victims  of  keen  physi- 
cal suffering. 

From  time  immemorial,  means  have 
been  sought,  and  with  partial  success,  to 
relieve  and  even  to  destroy  pain,  during 
the  manipulations  of  practical  surgery. 
For  this  purpose,  opium,  Indian  hemp, 
mesmerism,  and  nitrous  oxide  gas  and 
alcohol,  have  been  employed,  and  all  in 
their  turn  abandoned,  except  that  opium 
in  many  cases,  and  mesmerism  in  a  few, 
still  continued  to  be  used  with  imperfect 
success,  and  almost  always  with  the  subse- 
quent disadvantage  of  headache,  feverish- 
ness,  or  other  general  disorder. 

It  ivas  rtiseroed  for  the  slinjile  inhala- 
tion of  a  certain  gas  — pure  sulpliii.ric 
ether — to  achieve  in  surgery  that  for  which 
surgeons  had  for  centuries  labored,  and 
labored  in  vain  ! 

This  was  in  1846.  A  certain  old  gentle- 
man, however, — as  the  case  is  narrated, — 
was  not  altoorether  a  stranger  to  the  com- 
forting  effects  of  this  same  anodyne  pro- 
cess, some  forty  years  previously.  He  had 
discovered  that  the  fumes  of  ether  could 
lull  him  into  forgetfulness  of  the  pains 
and  disquietude  of  a  bustling  and  check- 
ered life.  He  was  a  man  of  research  in 
his  way ;  curious  in  beds,  baths,  and  pro- 
fessing to  understand  disease  and  its  cure 
better  bj'  far  than  his   fellows.     But  he 


was  loose  in  principle,  as  well  as  weak  in 
science,  and  no  doubt,  most  deservedly, 
had  many  roughnesses  in  life  which  he 
could  wisli  to  rub  away.  His  mode  was 
this :  Obtaining  an  ounce  or  two  of 
ether,  he  leisurely  sniffed  up  its  v;ipor,  sit- 
ting softly  the  while,  and  manifestly  en- 
joying a  tinie  of  calmness  and  repose, 
greatly  to  his  liking.  Indeed,  on  being 
interrogated,  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
blandly  answering,  "  soothing,  sir,  sooth' 
ing  to  an  immeasurable  degree."  In  this 
oblivion  to  the  disgusting  harassments 
of  life,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  indulging 
many  times  a  day.  He  had  curiously  dis- 
covered that  the  fumes  of  ether  could 
relieve,  temporarily,  from  the  pains  of  a 
mind  ill  at  ease  ;  but  he  was  not  to  know 
that  it  could  still  more  wonderfully 
assuage  the  body's  worst  suffering. 

The  divulgement  of  this  most  beneficent 
boon  to  the  world  since  man's  moral  re- 
demption— by  which  the  :nost  dreaded  of 
surgical  operations  can  be  performed  dur- 
ing a  happy  unconsciousness  of  the  patient 
— not  merely  with  little  suffering,  but  ab- 
solutely with  none — is  due  to  three  Ameri- 
cans, namely,  Drs.  Morton,  Jackson,  and 
Wells  ;  but  to  which  of  these  is  due  the 
priority  or  chief  merit  of  the  discovery,  is 
a  question  long  and  bitterly  discussed,  and 
still  undecided.  Certainly,  however,  the 
proceedings  of  each  of  these  gentlemen,  in 
connection  with  the  discovery,  show  un- 
doubted scientific  acuteness,  ingenuity, 
zeal  and  perseverance. 

The  enthusiasm  with  which  the  an- 
nouncement of  this  marvelous  discovery 
was  received  may  well  be  described  as 
unbounded.  Wafted  across  the  Atlantic, 
it  was  at  once  hailed  with  rapturous  ex- 
ultation in  England,  and  speedily  adopted 
in  most  of  the  large  hospitals  throughout 
the  kingdom — also,  in  the  vast  hospitals 
of  Paris,  and  in  the  numerous  institutions 
of  like  character  in  Germany,  including 
those  so  celebrated  at  Vienna  and  Berlin. 

Still,  there  were  not  wanting  those  who 
regarded  the  discovery  with  distrust,  and 
some  of  the  public  medical  institutions 
barred  their  doors  against  the    new  alle- 


458 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


viating  agent.  Objections  based  on  relig- 
ious grounds  were  urged  against  the  em- 
ployment of  ether.  Pain,  it  was  argued, 
was  the  natural  and  intended  consequence 
of  the  primal  sin,  and  therefore  any  attempt 
to  do  away  with  it  must  be  wrong.  These 
objectors  failed  to  see  that  their  argument, 
if  it  prov^ed  anything,  proved  too  much, 
since  it  held  with  equal  cogency  against 
any  and  every  remedial  agency,  in  all 
cases  whatsoever.  Others  opposed  the 
anaesthetic  on  the  ground  that  pain  is  sal- 
utary, and  that  its  annihilation  would  be 


this,  it  was  alleged  that  the  new  agent 
might  be  used  for  infamous  purposes.  "  A 
fatal  habit,"  it  was  said,  ''  had  sprung  up 
of  using  ether,  like  opium,  for  purjjoses  of 
exhilaration,  to  all  intents  intoxication. 
A  burglar  forced  his  way  into  a  mansion 
when  all  its  occupants  were  in  profound 
slumber,  and,  applying  ether  to  them,  he 
had  the  house  all  to  himself."  Frequeiit 
accidents,  moreover,  resulted  from  the  use 
of  impure  ether  by  unskillful  hands,  so  fre- 
quent, indeed,  that  prosecution  was  threat- 
ened for  administering  it  at  all. 


THE  THREE  CLAIMANTS  OF  THE  DISCOVERY  OF  PAINLESS  SURGERY,   BY  ETHER. 


hazardous  to  the  patient.  And  an  emi- 
nent physiologist  expressed  the  doubt 
whether  there  were  a  true  advantage  in 
suppressing  pain.  "  It  is  a  trivial  mat- 
ter," said  this  stoic,  "to  suffer,  and  a  dis- 
covery whose  object  is  the  prevention  of 
pain  is  of  slight  interest." 

Then,  too,  letters  came  pouring  in  upon 
the  discoverer  from  all  over  the  civilized 
world,  upbraiding  him  with  having  an- 
nounced the  claims  of  a  humbug.  He 
also  received  constant  visits  from  profes- 
sional gentlemen,  who  questioned  the  ac- 
curacy of  the  experiments.     "Worse   than 


But  the  domain  of  the  grim  demon, 
Pain,  having  once  been  successfully  in- 
vaded, humanit}'  and  science  were  ill-dis- 
posed to  yield  the  vantage  ground.  One 
of  the  most  eminent  professors  of  surgery 
in  America,  Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes,  said : 
"  The  knife  is  searching  for  disease — the 
pulleys  are  dragging  back  dislocated 
limbs — nature  herself  is  working  out  the 
primal  curse,  which  doomed  the  tenderest 
of  her  creatures  to  the  sharpest  of  her 
trials ;  but  the  fierce  extremity  of  her 
suffering  has  been  steeped  in  the  waters 
of  forgetfulness,  and  the  deepest    furrow 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


450 


in  the  knotted  brow  of  agony  lias  been 
smoothed  forever."  So,  too,  that  world- 
renowned  surgeon  and  anatomist,  Dr. 
John  C.  AVarren,— -grave,  venerable,  and 
dispassionate, — exclaimed : 

"  Who  could  haoe  iiiiaf/ined,  that  draiv- 
ing  the  knife  over  the  delicate  skin  of  the 
face  might  produce  a  sensation  of  un- 
mixed delight! — tJutt  the  turning  and 
twisting  of  instruments  in  the  most  sensi- 
tive bladder  might  be  accompanied  bij  a 
beautiful  dream!'''' 

It  was  natural  enough,  certainly,  that 
benevolence  should  prompt  the  humane 
surgeon  to  such  utterances  of  congratula- 
tion, for  it  supplied  to  him  a  desideratum, 
long  sought,  for  the  relief  of  the  excrucia- 
ting pain  they  were  necessarily  obliged  to 
inflict  in  the  practice  of  their  profession. 
For  screaming,  and  struggles,  and  intense 
suffering  under  the  surgeon's  knife,  ether- 
ization substituted  complete  exemption 
from  pain,  associated  in  some  with  the 
quietude,  mental  and  corporeal,  of  deep 
sleep ;  in  others,  with  pleasing  dreams, 
imaginar}^  busy  scenes,  and  sweet  music  ; 
and  in  others,  with  a  perfect  consciousness 
of  surrounding  objects  and  events.  The 
obstetrician  finds  in  it  the  means  of  alle- 
viating that  distress  with  which  woman 
has  always  been  afflicted,  when  in  the 
act  of  becoming  a  mother.  To  the  physi- 
cian it  affords  one  of  the  most  useful,  as 
it  is  one  of  his  most  prompt,  remedies. 
He,  before,  had  no  reliable  means  of  re- 
lieving the  spasms  of  tetanus;  he  not 
unfrequently  failed  to  procure  sleep,  in 
delirium  tremens,  when  the  question  was 
one  of  sleep  or  death ;  his  before  pallia- 
tive remedy,  opium,  for  the  j^ain  of  colic, 
too  often  purchased  temporary  relief  at  the 
expense  of  an  aggravation  of  the  cause  of 
the  disease,  and  of  increased  difficulties  in 
its  cure ;  and  he  occasionally  witnessed 
the  breaking  up  of  the  system  of  a  neu- 
ralgic patient,  more  as  a  consequence  of 
repeated  large  doses  of  opium,  than  of  the 
disease  itself. 

Heretofore,  also,  the  shock  of  all  serious 
operations  had  been  formidable.  The 
patient,  however  resigned  and  courageous, 


Avas  deeply  impressed  in  .system ;  the 
jiulse  became  feeble,  the  surface  cold  and 
pale,  the  eye  dim,  i-espiration  troubled, 
and  the  whoje  powers  of  life  brought  low. 
With  the  use  of  ether,  this  is  otherwise. 
Parturition  may  take  [>lace,  thighs  may  be 
amputated,  stones  extracted,  tumors  re- 
moved, dentistry  in  all  its  branches  per- 
formed ;  the  chief  deviations  from  the  nor- 
mal characters  of  health  being,  in  all  these 
cases,  such  as  are  known  to  be  the  effects  of 
ether — and,  accordingly,  both  manageable 
and  transient.  In  the  ai'my,  it  has  been 
found  of  incalculable  service,  in  cases  re- 
quiring the  iise  of  the  probe  and  and  knife, 
— th«  sadly  ample  opportunity  in  this  field 
during  the  war  in  the  Crimea,  in  Mexico, 
and  on  the  battle-grounds  of  the  South, 
adding  fresh  triumphs  to  the  discovery. 

It  will  be  interesting  to  give,  at  this 
point,  an  account  of  the  first  surgical 
operation  ^yerformed  under  the  influence 
of  ether,  the  result  of  which  so  fully  de- 
monstrated this  glorious  truth  of  science. 
It  occurred  at  the  Massachusetts  General 
Hospital,  the  operator  being  Dr.  Haj^ward. 

In  his  own  narration  of  the  circum- 
stances of  this  deeply  interesting  and  most 
important  occasion.  Dr.  Hay  ward  says  :  "  It 
was  my  fortune  to  perform  the  first  capital 
operation  on  a  patient  rendered  insensible 
by  the  inhalation  of  sulphuric  ether.  It 
rarely  falls  to  the  lot  of  a  professional 
man  to  be  the  witness  of  a  scene  of  more 
intense  interest.  The  operating-room  was 
crowded  ;  many  were  obliged  to  stand. 
Besides  the  class  of  students  in  attend- 
ance on  the  lectures,  numbering  more  than 
one  hundred,  and  many  of  the  principal 
l^hysicians  and  surgeons  of  the  city  and 
neighborhood,  there  were  present  several 
clergymen,  lawyers,  and  other  individuals, 
from  the  various  callings  of  life.  When 
I  entered  the  theater,  before  the  patient 
was  brought  in,  I  found  it,  to  my  surprise, 
filled  in  every  part,  except  the  floor  on 
which  the  table  stood,  with  persons  on 
whose  countenances  was  depicted  the  al- 
most painful  anxiety  Avith  which  they 
awaited  the  result  of  the  experiment  they 
were  about  to  witness.     I  simply  told  them 


460 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


that  I  had  decided,  with  the  advice  of  my 
colleagues,  to  allow  the  patient  on  whom  I 
was  to  operate,  to  inhale  an  article  which 
was  said  to  have  the  jjower  of  annulling 
pain.  The  patient  was  then  brought  in. 
She  was  a  delicate  looking  girl  of  about 
twenty  years  of  age,  who  had  suffered  for 
a  long  time  from  a  scrofulous  disease  of 
the  knee-joint.  It  had  at  length  sui> 
purated ;  there  were  extensive  openings 
into  the  cavity  of  the  joint ;  the  cartilages 
were  ulcerated,  and  partly  absorbed  ;  the 
bones  carious,  and  symptoms  of  hectic 
fever  had  already  made  their  appearance. 
As  soon  as  she  was  well  arranged  on  the 
table  I  told  her  that  I  should  let  her 
breatlie  something  which  I  hoped  would 
prevent  her  from  suffering  much  from  the 
operation,  and  that  she  need  not  be  afraid 
of  breathing  it  freely."  The  critical 
nature  of  this  case  can  easily  be  appre- 
ciated, even  by  the  unprofessional  mind, 
and  the  result  is  fraught  with  deep  and 
romantic  interest. 

It  being  desirable  that  the  amputation 
should  be  performed  as  rapidly  as  possible, 
Dr.  Hay  ward  decided  to  accomplisli  it 
by  means  of  the  flap  operation.  One  per- 
son was  to  compress  the  artery,  another  to 
withdraw  the  flaps,  a  third  to  hand  the  in- 
struments, a  ad  a  fourth  to  watch  the  pulse. 
Dr.  HajMvard  grasped  the  patient's  limb 
with  his  left  hand,  and  held  the  amputat- 
ing knife  behind  him  in  his  right,  care- 
fully concealed  from  her  view.  The 
mouth-piece  of  the  inhaling  instrument 
was  then  put  into  her  mouth,  and  she  was 
directed  to  take  long  inspirations.  After 
breathing  in  this  way  a  short  time,  the 
nostrils  were  compressed,  so  that  all  the 
air  that  went  into  the  lungs  must  first 
pass  through  the  machine,  and  of  course 
be  mixed  with  the  vapor  of  the  ether. 
Slie  breathed  with  perfect  ease,  and  with- 
out struggling,  and  in  about  three  minutes 
from  the  time  the  instrument  was  put 
into  her  mouth,  Dr  Morton  said,  'She  is 
ready.'  A  death-like  silence  reigned  in 
the  room ;  no  one  moved,  or  hardly 
breathed.  The  doctor  passed  the  knife 
directly  through  the  limb,  and   brought  it 


out  as  rapidly  as  he  could,  and  made  the 
upper  flap.  The  patient  gave  no  sign  of 
feeling  or  consciousness,  but  looked  like 
one  in  a  deep,  quiet  sleep.  Every  other 
person  in  the  room  took  a  full  inspiration 
that  was  distinctly  audible,  and  seemed  to 
feel  that  they  could  now  bi'eathe  again. 
The  second  flap  was  then  made,  the  bone 
sawed,  five  arteries  were  tied,  and  as  the 
doctor  was  tightening  the  ligature  upon 
the  sixth  and  last  she  groaned,  being  the 
first  indication  of  sensibility  that  had 
been  given.  Nothing  more  was  done  than 
to  bring  the  flaps  together,  cover  the 
stump  with  cloths  dipi)ed  in  cold  water, 
and  apply  two  or  three  turns  of  a  roller  to 
\s.eep  them  in  place.  Her  consciousness 
soon  returned ;  she  was  wholhj  i'jiiontnt 
that  the  operation  liad  been  done!  For 
some  time  she  would  not  believe  it,  and 
said  that  she  had  felt  nothing  till  the 
doctor  tied  the  last  artery.  The  operation 
lasted  a  minute  and  three-quarters. 

The  phenomena,  or  effects,  produced  by 
the  administration  of  ether,  are  extremely 
various,  depending  much,  of  course,  upon 
the  temperament,  habits,  and  condition  of 
the  patient.  Sometimes  the  dream  is  ex- 
quisitely charming,  and  the  patient  seems 
passed  into  another  and  a  better  world. 
Sometimes  the  opposite  state  obtains,  the 
patient  betraj'ing  manifest  uneasiness 
while  in  the  trance,  by  restless,  staring, 
anguished  eye-balls,  by  groaning,  and  by 
wrestling  movements  of  the  body.  And 
these  are  not  loath  to  emerge  from  the 
effects  of  the  drug,  while  the  former  part 
with  them  grudgingly.  One  poor  girl,  for 
instance,  had  struggled  hard  during  an 
amputation,  _yet  felt  no  pain  ;  and,  on  com- 
ing to  herself,  thunkfrdness  was  expressed 
in  every  feature,  as  well  as  by  her  blithe 
tongue,  for  .'^he  "  thocltt  the  deli  had  a 
yripo'  hi'v  (C  the  tltneP 

In  some  cases,  the  dreamer  is  falling  from 
a  great  height  rapidly,  down  and  down  into 
some  unfathomable  abyss.  In  otlier  cases, 
the  dream  is  warlike ;  personal  to  the 
dreamer;  or  of  by-gone  days,  implicating 
some  great  military  demonsti-ation  ;  and 
the  crack  of  tooth-pulling  has  thus  passed 


GREAT  AND  IMEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


461 


off  as  the  din  of  ordnance.  Sometimes,  in 
youth,  the  dream  has  been  "  all  fun  ;"  and 
the  dreamer  has  been  anxious  to  be  back 
into  the  midst  of  his  pleasant  pastime 
again,  even  at  the  cost  of  another  tooth- 
drawing.  The  patient,  if  a  wanderer,  and 
then  in  a  strange  land,  may  dream  pleas- 
antly of  home — "  she  had  been  home,  it 
was  beautiful,  and  she  had  been  gone  a 
month  ; "  so  said  one  poor  woman  in  the 
midst  of  what,  without  the  ether,  would 
have  been  agony. 

Sometimes  the  dream  passes  steadily  on 
to  completion,  sometimes  it  is  abruptly 
closed  by  some  critical  procedure  on  the 
part  of  the  operator — the  extraction  of  a 
tooth,  with  a  sudden  Avrench,  for  example. 
A  soldier  dreams  of  guns  and  bayonets, 
and  strife,  and  clamor  ;  a  sailor,  of  ships, 
and  storms,  and  grog ;  an  Irishman  of 
whiskey  and  shillalahs,  and  a  "  skrim- 
mage  ;  "  a  boy  of  marbles,  tops,  and  "lots 
of  fun  ;  "  a  mother,  of  home  and  children ; 
a  girl,  of  gala-days  and  finery. 

A  tippler  fancies  he  is  in  the  grog-shop, 
and  there  he  may  enjoy  himself  hugely — 
or  he  may  dream  "  his  wife  came  to  fetch 
him."  Quarrelsome  men  grow  pugilistic, 
and  coats  may  be  doffed  with  appropriate 
accompaniment  of  word  and  action. 
Young  men,  having  some  one  in  their  list 
of  female  acquaintance  dearer  than  the 
rest,  grow  active  lovers,  and  in  lone  walks, 
earnest  conversations,  or  soft  whisperings, 
seem  to  make  rare  progress  in  their  suit. 
The  swearing  and  dissolute  may  indulge 
in  oaths  and  profane  jests.  The  man  of 
fervent  piety,  who  is  habitually  looking 
heavenward,  may  not  only  suppose  himself 
translated  to  the  realms  of  bliss,  but  may 
take  part  in  imagined  exercises  there.  A 
patient  of  this  class  was  known  thus  to 
employ  himself  immediately  after  a  pain- 
ful operation  ;  four  verses  of  a  psalm  were 
sung  by  him  very  loudly,  with  his  eyes 
fixed,  his  body  in  a  tremor,  and  intense 
fervor  shown  in  every  movement ;  he 
would  not  be  interrupted,  and  could 
scarcely  be  prevailed  upon  to  leave  the 
operation-room,  seeing  that  he  found  him- 
self so  wonderfully  happy  there — said  he 


had  been  in  heaven,  and  had  seen  his 
Savior;  on  reaching  his  bed,  he  fell  on  liis 
knees  and  was  rapt  in  prayer. 

Not  always,  however,  is  the  dream  con- 
sistent with  the  character.  Among  the 
instances  showing  this,  is  that  of  a  young, 
simpering  and  innocent  damsel,  who, 
addressing  a  most  amiable  and  excellent 
dentist,  knitting  her  brow  into  something 
more  than  a  frown,  clenching  her  fist,  and 
scowling  defiance,  vowed  in  the  most  up- 
roarious tone  and  manner,  that  if  he  ven- 
tured near  her  with  his  profane  touch, 
"big  blackguard,  as  he  was,  s/ie'd  knock 
him  doivny  And  so,  too,  staid,  demure, 
elderly  persons,  have,  in  most  abandoned 
gayety,  insisted  on  the  operator  forthwith 
joining  them  in  a  joyous  polka ! 

In  plain  language,  as  in  plain  fact — says 
an  English  reviewer,  whose  interesting 
resume  is  here  quoted  —  the  j^f^itient  is 
drunk.  Sometimes  the  consciousness  of 
this  condition  is  made  apparent  by  the 
sensations  which  are  induced  in  the  early 
period  of  inhalation.  "  You'll  have  me 
drunk  !  "  cried  one  ;  "  Oh,  you  rascals  !  I 
know  what  you  are  ;  "  evidently  supposing 
that  he  had  fallen  into  loose  societ}^,  and 
that  his  companions  had  a  design  on  him. 
But  it  is  on  coming  out  of  the  trance,  that 
the  intoxication  shows  most.  The  patient 
sways  as  he  tries  to  stand  ;  is  garrulous, 
sprightly,  and  humorous;  and  often  in- 
sists on  shaking  hands  with  all  and 
sundry.  The  unsteadiness  of  gait,  and 
lightness  of  head,  sometimes  have  an 
inconvenient  duration,  as  is  illustrated  in 
the  case  of  a  most  worthy  lady,  who,  leav- 
ing the  dentist  too  soon,  had  to  grope  her 
way  along  the  railing  of  the  street,  in 
noonday,  and  ran  no  slight  risk  of  losing 
all  reputation  for  sobriety. 

Among  the  many  amusing  examples  of 
the  effect  produced  by  the  administration 
of  the  antesthetic — in  addition  to  its  pri- 
mary quality  of  annulling  pain — the  follow- 
ing may  be  cited  :  An  Irish  woman,  who 
had  never  heard  of  ether  previous  to  call- 
ing upon  the  dentist  for  the  purpose  of 
having  a  large  molar  tooth  extracted,  took 
it  on  being  told  that  she  would  suffer  no 


462 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876 


pain,  and  would,  probably,  have  an  inter- 
view witli  her  friends  in  the  old  country. 
Just  as  its  influence  commenced,  the 
doctor  remarked  that  he  would  like  to 
have  her  observe  what  occupation  her 
friends  were  engaged  in,  if  she  succeeded 
in  finding  them.  The  tooth  was  drawn ; 
she  moved  not  a  muscle  of  the  face,  but 
remained  as  in  a  quiet  sleep,  for  about  one 


machinery,  declared  herself  unhurt  by  the 
operation,  and  wished  the  doctor  to  see  if 
there  was  not  '^'^  another  tooth  xchat  wanted 
to  he  draic.^^ 

Another  example  of  this  class,  was  that 
of  a  middle-aged  Irishman,  who  had  sus- 
tained compound  fracture  of  the  leg.  The 
fracture  had  not  united,  in  consequence  of 
the  presence  of  a  dead  piece  of  bone,  and 


MONUMENT  ERECTED  IN  HONOR  OF  THE  DISCOVERY  OF  ETHER. 


minute.  Upon  opening  her  eyes,  she 
exclaimed,  "I  have  seen  all  my  friends; 
they  were  engaged  in  spinning — and  don't 
I  hear  their  wheels  now,  sure  ? "  She 
said  it  appearel  to  her  as  though  she  hud 
been  absent  many  months.  Slie  recol- 
lected that  she  went  home  in  a  steam 
vessel,    heard    the    noise    of    steam   and 


it  became  necessary  to  remove  this  by  a 
painful  operation,  in  the  following  manner : 
The  patient  was  seated  on  a  table,  and 
the  inhalation  was  applied.  At  first,  little 
effect  was  produced,  but  after  some  min- 
utes, tlie  jiatient  fell  backwards,  as  in  a 
swoon.  Tlie  operator  was  then  about  to 
proceed :    but    the    man    immediately   ob- 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  E^rENTS. 


463 


jected,  saying  that  "he  was  not  asleep,  and 
that  lie  trusted  nothing  would  be  done 
till  he  was  asleep."  For  full  twenty  min- 
utes more  the  inhalation  went  on,  the  man 
confused  and  talkative,  but  wide-awake, 
and  occasionally  expressing  verj^  emphati- 
cally his  conviction  that  "  it  would  not  do." 
At  length,  however,  while  in  this  wakeful 
state,  the  operation  was  begun.  Incisions 
were  made  on  the  shin,  and  flaps  were  dis- 
sected off  so  as  to  expose  the  bone  beneath. 
A  portion  of  this  was  sawn  and  clipped 
through,  and  then  the  dead  bone  was 
removed.  Only  during  the  clipping  of  the 
bone  with  strong  straining  pliers  did  any 
sign  of  feeling  escape  from  the  patient, 
who  was  busy  inhaling  all  the  while,  and 
now  and  then  protesting  that  "it  wouldn't 
do."  The  operation  occupied  about  ten 
minutes,  and,  from  the  highly  sensitive 
nature  of  the  parts  involved,  must  have 
been  attended  with  excruciating  suffering 
under  ordinary  circumstances.  After  it 
was  over,  the  operator  said  to  the  patient — 

"I  suppose  you  won't  let  me  operate 
to-day  ?  " 

"Certainly  not,"  replied  the  patient, 
"it  won't  do;  I  must  be  asleep.  The 
thing  hasn't  succeeded  with  me,  and  I  am 
sure  it  can't  succeed  with  any  one  else,  for 
I  did  everything  I  could  to  get  asleep,  for 
my  own  sake,  and  I'd  do  anything  to  plase 
you." 

"  Then  you  won't  even  let  me  make  a 
cut  into  the  leg  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  must  be  asleep ;  we  can  try  it 
another  time." 

This  plain  proof  of  his  utter  unconscious- 
ness of  the  operation  having  been  per- 
formed was  acknowledged  by  the  specta- 
tors in  a  hearty  round  of  applause.  The 
patient  then  sat  up,  and,  seeing  the  wound, 
burst  into  an  immoderate  fit  of  laughter, 
saying— 

"No  doubt  there^s  blood,  or  something 
very  like  it;  but  I  haven't  felt  a  single 
thing  done  to  my  leg.  That  hates  the 
globe  !  " 

On  being  asked  decidedly  as  to  his 
having  felt  anything,  he  repeatedly  an- 
swered "Not  a  ha'  porth."     He  got  into 


amazing  spirits,  and  refused  to  leave  the 
room  until  he  had  told  ''all  al)Out  the  tol- 
drums  of  the  business."  And  then,  with 
the  manner  of  a  tipsy  man,  and  very 
happy,  he  kept  surgeons  and  students  in  a 
roar  of  laughter  for  some  minutes  witli  a 
narrative  of  his  condition  during  the  in- 
halation, which,  Irish-like,  seemed  to  have 
an  interminable  medley  of  imaginary 
fights  and  "killings"  going  on  around 
him. 

It  has  already  been  stated,  that  Drs. 
Jackson,  Morton,  and  Wells,  respective!}', 
claim  the  honor  of  having  discovered  this 
great  fact  in  chemical  and  medical  science, 
and  the  claim  of  each  is  supported  by  a 
formidable  army  of  names  and  evidence. 
One  of  the  most  candid  investigators  of 
the  character  and  weight  of  these  several 
and  conflicting  claims,  has  presented  the 
case  in  this  light,  namely:  That  to  Dr. 
Wells  unquestionably  belongs  the  merit 
of  having  first  demonstrated  the  happy 
idea  of  deadening  sensibility  in  jiainful 
oj^erations,  by  using  both  nitrous  oxide 
and  sulphuric  ether;  that  to  Dr.  Jackson, 
the  thanks  of  the  world  are  due  for  lend- 
ing that  influence  which  his  well-earned 
reputation  qualified  him  to  do,  in  estab- 
lishing confidence  in  the  public  mind  in 
the  use  of  sulphuric  ether,  as  a  substitute 
for  the  nitrous  oxide  ;  and  that,  to  Dr. 
Morton's  indefatigable  exertions  in  secur- 
ing the  attention  of  leading  medical  men 
to  the  subject,  was  due  the  rapid  adoption 
of  suljduiric  ether  in  connection  with  the 
practice  of  surgery.  But,  singularly 
enough,  though  the  French  Academy  has 
acknowledged,  by  jiecuniary  and  honorary 
awards,  the  indebtedness  of  mankind  to 
the  American  discoverers  of  this  vast 
blessing  to  humanity,  the  American  gov- 
ernment has  thus  far  failed  to  confer  any 
reward  upon  any  one  of  the  distinguished 
claimants.  A  costly  and  superb  monu- 
ment, designed  and  executed  with  con- 
summate skill  by  Ward,  the  eminent 
sculptor,  and  erected  at  the  cost  of  a 
wealthy  citizen  of  Boston,  in  honor  of  this 
great  discovery,  now  adorns  the  public 
garden  of  that  cit}'. 


LIII. 

INVENTION  OF  THAT  WONDROUS  PIECE  OF  MECHANISM, 

THE    SEWING-MACHINE.— 1846. 


Eomantic  Genius  and  Perseverance  Displayed  in  its  Production  — Toils  of  the  Inventor  in  His  Garret. 
— World  Wide  Introduction  of  the  Device  — Upwards  of  One  Tliousand  Patents  Taken  Out  in  the 
United  States  — Tiie  Industrial  Interests  of  tlie  Country  Affected  to  the  Amount  of  $500,000,000 
Annually. — The  Humble  Inventor  Becomes  a  Millionaire. — The  Main  Princijjle  Involved. — Compari- 
son with  Hand  Sewing — How  it  was  Suggested, — Listening  to  Some  Advantaj:e. — History  of  Mr 
Howe's  Efforts — Ingenuity,  Struggles,  Triumphs. — Value  of  a  Friend  in  Need  — A  Machine  at  Lai-t. 
— Its  Parts,  Capabilities,  etc. — Reception  by  the  Public. — Doubt  Succeeded  by  Admiralion. — Great 
Popularity  and  Demand. — Wearisome  Litigation  with  Rivals — Interesting  Question  of  Priority  — 
Decided  in  Howe's  Favor — He  Rises  to  Affluence — Improvements  by  Others — Unique  and  Useful 
Devices. — Number  of  Maciiines  Produced. — Time  and  Labor  Saved. — Effect  Upon  Prices — New 
Avenues  of  Labor  Opened. 


"The  invention  all  admired. 

And  each  how  he  to  be  the  inventor  misled. 

So  phiiii  It  seeniC'l  oni-e  tound — which  yet  un-found. 

Must  would  have  tliuught  impossible." 


-  J 

THE  INVENTOK  TOIUXO  IN  HIS  0.\RUET. 


IFFEEENCE  of  opinion  there  may 
be,  'svitli   regard   to    tlie    abstraot 
question,  wlio  first  conceived  tlie 
^^^^ —      peculiar     principle     involved    in 
sewing  by  inacbinery,   and  even 
in   respect  to   who  was  the  original  con- 
structor of  a  machine  capable  of  fulfilling 
this  idea  ;  but,  so  far  as  actual  demonstra- 
tion of  its  feasibleness  and  titility  is  con- 
cerned,  and  for  the   great   results    which 
have  followed  that  demonstration,  the  world 
must  be    considered    as  indebted  to  Elias 
Howe,  Jr.,  a  Massachusetts  mechanic,  born 
and  reared  in  obscure  circumstances,  and 
at   an    early   age    thrown    upon   his   own 
resources  of  industrious  endeavor,  for  simple    sub- 
sistence. 

It  may  be  remarked,  as  a  general  fact,  that  the 
peculiar  or  original  principle  characterizing  the 
modern  sewing-machine,  consists  in  the  use  of  two 
threads,  one  being  fed  by  a  needle,  and  the  other — 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


465 


the  wrong  side  tliroad,  or,  as  it  has  been 
termed,  the  auxiliary  thread — being  sup- 
plied by  a  shuttle  and  bobbin.  The  needle 
is  secured  to  a  stock,  whose  movement, 
caused  by  arms  and  levers,  drives  its  point 
throusli  the  material  to  be  sewed:  the 
eye  of  the  needle,  at  a  moderate  distance 
from  the  point,  carries  the  thread  through 
and  then  retires  leaving  a  loop,  through 
wh'.eh  loop  a  shuttle  is  passed,  on  the 
under  side  of  the  material  to  be  sewed; 
this  shuttle  carries  a  quantity  of  thread 
upon  a  spool,  which  it  supplies  as  the  seam 
progresses.  The  needle  on  retiring  draws 
up  the  loop,  and  thus  closes  the  seam, 
Avhich  on  the  upper  or  face  side  of  the 
work  presents  the  appearance  of  what  is 
called  a  'row  of  stitching,'  and  on  the 
under,  a  close  resemblance,  but  differing 
slightly.  The  return,  or  rotation  of  the 
shuttle  in  its  orbit,  is  a  matter  of  course, 
and  the  work  thus  goes  on  continuously 
and  with  great  rapidity. 

The  feed,  or  the  progressive  movement 
of  the  material  to  be  sewed  under  the 
needle,  is  accomplished  in  various  ways — 
primarily,  by  means  of  the  friction  of  a 
feeding  wheel,  whose  roughened  surface 
creates  sufficient  adhesion  to  move  the 
material  forward  at  the  requisite  intervals. 
This  feed  is  effected  by  the  ordinary 
means  of  a  racket- wdi eel  and  click,  or  paul, 
the  latter  being  capable  of  adjustment 
through  shifting  levers,  so  as  to  give  a 
longer  or  shorter  stitch,  at  the  wall  of  the 
operator,  or  the  requirements  of  the  work. 

These  devices  and  arrangements,  wdtli 
such  improved  modifications  as  experience 
and  ingenuity  have  suggested  from  time  to 
time,  constitute  the  American  sewing- 
machine. 

Although  the  use  of  the  sewung-machine 
has  become  general  only  within  a  compar- 
atively recent  period,  the  instrument  is, 
in  a  certain  sense,  an  old  invention.  The 
needle  with  the  eye  in  the  center,  and 
double-pointed,  is  beautifull}'  employed  in 
the  embroidery  machine,  which  is  an  old 
French  device.  This  machine  worked 
upon  cloth  as  many  as  sixty  similar  figures 
or  flowers  at  the  same  time ;  the  whole 
30 


being  directed  by  one  hand,  who,  by  the 
aid  of  a  pentagraphic  guide  on  a  prepared 
I^attern,  pointed  the  needles  to  their  appro- 
priate place  of  entrance,  and  returned  them 
with  unerring  certainty  and  exactitude. 
The  earliest  form  of  stitch  made  use  of 
was  the  'chain  stitch,'  which  is  still 
employed  for  ornamental  purposes,  but  is 
not  approved  of  where  strength  and  dura- 
bility are  required.  The  next  stitch  in 
order  was  the  '  running  stitch,'  and  was 
accomplished  by  means  of  a  needle  having 
an  eye  in  the  middle  and  points  at  each 
end  ;  this  has  been  extensively  used  for 
the  cheaper  kinds  of  work,  but  does  not 
insure  durabilit}'.  The  next  form  of  stitch 
is  that  already  described,  as  formed  by 
means  of  two  threads,  with  a  needle  and 
shuttle  ; — and  this  opens  up  the  wonderful 
era  of  modern  sewing-machines,  beginning 
with  the  introduction  to  the  public  of  that 
by  Mr.  Howe. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  follow  Mr. 
Howe  through  all  the  details  of  his  varied 
experience  during  his  early  years.  Suffice 
it  to  say,  that  it  was  at  Boston,  when  in 
his  twentieth  year,  and  after  he  had 
learned  the  rudiments  of  his  trade  in  one 
of  the  machine  shops  of  Lowell,  and  sub- 
sequently in  Cambridge,  working  side  by 
side  with  Nathaniel  P.  Banks,  that  the 
thought  of  sewing  by  machinery  was  first 
suggested  to  his  mind.  As  related  by 
Mr.  Parton,  in  his  admirable  magazine 
sketch  of  Howe,  this  singularly  fortuitous 
incident  happened  in  this  wise : — In  the 
year  1839,  two  men  in  Boston,  one  a 
mechanic  and  the  other  a  capitalist,  were 
striving  to  produce  a  knitting-machine, 
which  proved  to  be  a  task  beyond  their 
strength.  When  the  inventor  was  at  his 
wit's  end,  his  capitalist  brought  the 
machine  to  the  shop  of  Ari  Davis,  to  see 
if  that  eccentric  genius  could  suggest  the 
solution  of  the  difficulty,  and  make  the  ma- 
chine work.  The  shop,  resolving  itself  into 
a  committee  of  the  whole,  gathered  about 
the  knitting-machine  and  its  proprietor, 
and  were  listening  to  an  explanation  of  its 
principle,  when  Davis,  in  his  wild,  extrava« 
gaut  way,  broke  in  with  the  question — 


466 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


"  What  are  you  bothering  yourselves 
Avitli  a  knitting-machine  for  ?  Wliy  don't 
you  make  a  sewing-machine  ?  " 

'•  I  wish  I  could,"  said  the  capitalist : 
"but  it  can't  be  done." 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  can,"  said  Davis ;  "  I  can 
make  a  sewing-maichine  myself." 

"Well,"  said  the  other,  "you  do  it, 
Davis,  and  I'll  insure  j'ou  an  independent 
fortune." 

Among  the  workmen  -who  stood  hy  and 
listened  to  this  conversation — and  in  this 
instance  at  least  the  old  adage  concern- 
ing listeners  apj)ears  to  have  been  reversed 
— says  Parton,  was  Howe  ;  and  from  that 
time   he  was  in  the  habit,  in  his  leisure 


and  reflection  he  produced  the  first  Ttia- 
chine  that  ever  sewed  a  seam,  and  he  was 
soon  the  wearer  of  a  suit  of  clothes  made 
hij   its    assistance.       This    first    machine, 
which  is  one  of  great  beauty  and  fmisli,  is 
still  in    existence,  an   object   of   peculiar 
interest  to  the  curious  who  inspect  it;  and 
it  will  sew  ten  times  as  fast  as  a  woman 
can  sew  by  hand.     Having  patented  the 
machine,  and  finding  the  tailors  of  Amer- 
ica averse  to  its  introduction,  ho  went  to 
England,    Avhere  he   succeeded  in   selling 
two  machines;  but  found  so  little  encour- 
agement that  he  would  have  starved  to 
death  but  for  the  aid  of  friends,  and  he 
resolved  to  return  home,  or  at  least  to  send 
his  family.     So  pinched  was  he, 
while    in    London,    that    he    fre- 
quently borrowed  small    sums  of 
his    friend,    Mr.    Inglis — on   one 
occasion  a  shilling,  with  which  he 
bought   some    beans,  and  cooked 
and  ate  them  in  his  own  room, — 
and  through    him    also   obtained 
some  credit  for  provisions.     Ar- 
riving home,  after  an  absence  of 
about  two  3^ears,  he  found  that  the 
sewing-machine  was  a  conspicuous 
object  of  public  attention ;  doubt 
had  been  succeeded  by  admiration 
of  its  qualities ;  and  seA'eral  ingen- 
ious   men   having   experimented, 
had  finally  improved  upon  the  ma- 
chine   as   oriffinallv    constructed. 


-r-y^  t,:: 


moments,  of  meditating  devices  for  sewing 
by  machinery.  Having  inherited  a  con- 
stitution hardly  strong  enough  for  the 
w'ork  of  a  machinist,  and  burdened  oven 
in  his  opening  manhood  with  the  caro  of  a 
growing  family,  his  attention  was  more 
and  more  concentrated  upon  the  project 
of  building  a  machine  which  would  furnish 
him  a  liveliliood  more  easily  earned.  In 
December,  1845,  upon  a  small  capital,  pro- 
vided by  the  generosity  of  an  old  friend, 
he  shut  himself  up  in  a  garret  at  Cam- 
bridge, and  set  himself  seriously  to  the 
task  of  inventing  a  sewing  machine. 
After  about  six  months  of  incessant  labor 


ar  of  litigation  ensued,  and, 
several  years,  Mr.  Howe's 
claim  to  be  the  original  inventor  was 
legally  and  irreversibly  established,  the 
judge  deciding  that  'there  was  no  evidence 
which  loft  a  shadow  of  doubt  tliat,  for  all 
the  benefit  conferred  upon  the  ])ublic  by 
the  introduction  of  a  sowing-inacliine,  the 
public  are  indebted  to  INIr.  Howe.'  To 
him,  therefore,  all  other  inventors  or 
improvers  had  to  ]>ay  tribute.  From 
being  a  poor  man,  Howe  became,  in  a 
few  years,  one  of  the  most  noted  mil- 
lionaires in  America  ;  and  his  Imst,  exe- 
cuted by  Ellis,  shows  a  man  of  marked 
personal  appearance  and  striking  natural 
endowments. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


467 


Bat  liere  the  very  singular  circumstances 
relating  to  the  alleged  priority'  of  Mr. 
AValter  Hunt's  invention,  as  described  by 
a  graphic  and  well-informed  writer  in  the 
New  York  Galaxy, — showing  how  preca- 
rious, at  best,  is  the  basis  upon  which 
even  the  most  impartial  of  legal  conclu- 
sions are  arrived  at, — may  well  be  pre- 
sented, as  exhibiting  the  trials  of  inventors 
and  public  benefactors  :  It  was  between 
the  years  1832  and  1834,  that  Mr.  Hunt, 
in  his  own  workshop  in  Amos  street,  New 
York  city,  invented,  built,  and  put  into 
full  and  effective  operation  a  machine  for 
sewing,  stitching,  and  seaming  cloth. 
This  first  machine  was  made  principally 
by  the  inventor's  own  hands.  It  was  the 
pioneer  sewing-machine  of  America,  and 
the  first  really  successful  one  of  the  world. 
There  had  already  been  a  French  inven- 
tion, a  tambour  machine  for  ornamenting 
gloves;  but  it  Avas  of  very  little  general 
utility.  These  machines  of  "Walter  Hunt 
all  contained  the  invention  of  the  curved 
needle  with  the  eye  near  the  point,  the 
shuttle  and  their  combination,  and  they 
originated  the  famous  interlocked  stitch 
with  two  threads.  Many  samples  of  cloth 
were  perfectly  sewn  by  these  machines, 
and  many  of  the  friends  and  neighbors  of 
the  inventor  came  to  see  them  work.  At 
length,  one  G.  A.  Arrowsmith  was  so  well 
satisfied  with  the  working  of  the  machines, 
that  he  bought  them,  in  1834,  and  there- 
with the  right  to  obtain  letters-patent. 
But  no  sooner  had  Arrowsmith  got  this 
right,  than  he  became  impressed  both  witli 
the  vastness  of  the  undertaking  and  with 
the  prejudice  which  any  scheme  appar- 
ently tending  to  impoverish  poor  seam- 
stresses would  awaken.  At  the  same  time 
he  became  involved  in  pecuniary  disaster, 
and  for  years  did  nothing  with  the 
machine.  Fortunately  for  Mr.  Hunt's 
fame,  many  persons  had  seen  his  machines 
work,  and  had  seen  them  sew  a  good, 
strong  and  handsome  stitch,  and  form 
seams  better  than  hand-sewing.  Of  these, 
no  less  than  six  directly  testified  to  this 
fact  in  a  suit  afterward  brought,  and 
established  the  fact  beyond  question  that 


Walter  Hunt  invented  the  first  sewing- 
machine,  and  that  it  contained  the  curved, 
eye-pointed  needle  at  the  end  of  a  vibrat- 
ing arm  with  a  shuttle.  The  case  itself 
was  decided  upon  another  point.  These 
affidavits  are  still  in  existence.  But  this 
was  not  all.  Fifteen  j'ears  after  he  had 
sold  his  machines  to  Arrowsmith,  who  lost 
a  fortune  and  a  name  in  not  devoting  him- 
self to  their  reproduction,  Walter  Hunt 
from  memory  gave  a  sworn  written  de- 
scription of  his  first  machine  in  every  part, 
and,  to  clinch  the  matter,  afterward  con- 
structed a  machine  from  that  description, 
which  was  the  counterpart  of  the  machine 
of  1834,  and  worked  perfectly.  Finally, 
one  of  the  original  machines  sold  to  Arrow- 
smith  in  1834,  was  and  is,  still  preserved, 
though  in  a  dilapidated  condition.  Walter 
Hunt  then  undertook  to  make  a  new 
sewing-machine,  which  should  be  an  oper- 
ative instrument,  and  should  contain 
all  the  parts  which  were  preserved  of 
the  old  machine,  with  such  others  as  were 
necessarj^  to  present  the  machine  in  the 
same  shape  that  the  original  one  pos- 
sessed. He  did  this  successfully,  and 
the  restored  machine,  still  operative  and 
ready  to  sew  good,  strong  seams,  is  yet  in 
existence. 

AVithout  drawing  further,  however,  from 
this  curiously  interesting  chapter  in  the 
history  of  the  machine,  involving  a  ques- 
tion of  the  deepest  interest  to  inventors, 
it  is  time  to  describe  the  instrument — its 
parts  and  peculiar  features,  and  modus 
operandi, —  invented  by  Mr.  Howe,  and 
which  transformed  him  from  an  obscure 
and  struggling  mechanic  to  one  of  the 
foremost  manufacturers  and  millionaires 
in  America  Seating  ourselves  therefore 
before  this  wonderful  elaboration  of  artis- 
tic genius  and  skill,  as  it  has  come  fresh 
from  the  hands  of  the  toilsome  but  at  last 
successful  inventor,  and  Avitnessing  its 
weird  and  agile  movement  while  its  enthu- 
siastic proprietor  essays  to  sew  a  seam,  we 
find  that  two  threads  are  employed,  one  of 
which  is  carried  through  the  cloth  by 
means  of  a  curved  needle,  the  pointed  end 
of   which    passes   through   the   cloth ;  the 


468 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


THE  OLD  AND   NEW 

noeJle  used  lias  the  eye  that  is  to  receive 
:he  thread  witliin  a  small  distance,  say  an 
eighth  of  an  inch,  of  its  inner  or  pointed 
end,  the  other  or  outer  end  of  the  needle 
being  held  by  an  arm  that  vibrates  on  a 
pivot  or  joint  pin,  the  curvature  of  the 
needle  being  such  as  to  correspond  with 
the  length  of  the  arm  as  its  radius. 

When  the  thread  is  carried  through  the 
cloth,  which  may  be  done  to  the  distance 
of  about  three-fourths  of  an  inch,  the  thread 
will  be  stretched  above  the  curved  needle, 
something  in  the  manner  of  a  bowstring, 
leaving  a  small  open  space  between  the 
two.  A  small  shuttle,  carrying  a  bobbin 
filled  with  silk  or  thread,  is  then  made  to 
pass  entirely  through  this  open  space, 
between  the  needle  and  the  thread  which 
it  carries ;  and  when  the  shuttle  is  re- 
turned, which  is  done  by  means  of  a  picker 
staff  or  shuttle-driver,  the  thread  which 
^vas  carried  in  by  the  needle  is  surrounded 
by  that  I'eceivcd  from  the  shuttle  ;  as  the 
needle  is  drawn  out,  it  forces  that  which 
was  received  from  the  shuttle  into  the 
body  of  the  cloth  ;  and  as  this  operation 
is  repeated,  a  seam  is  formed  which  has  on 


SEWI.NG    BY    HAND  AND   MACHINE. 

each  side  of  the  cloth  the  same  appearance 
as  that  given  by  stitching,  with  this  pecu- 
liarity, that  the  thread  sewn  on  one  side 
of  the  cloth  is  exclusively  that  which  was 
given  out  by  the  needle,  and  the  thread 
seen  on  the  other  side  is  exclusivel}'  that 
which  was  given  out  by  the  shuttle. 

Thus,  according  to  this  arrangement,  a 
stitch  is  made  at  every  back  and  forth 
movement  of  the  shuttle.  The  two  thick- 
nesses of  cloth  that  are  to  be  sewed,  are 
held  upon  pointed  wires,  Avhich  jjroject  out 
from  a  metallic  plate,  like  the  teeth  of  a 
comb,  but  at  a  considerable  distance  from 
each  other, — say  three-fourths  of  an  inch, 
more  or  less, — these  pointed  wires  sustain- 
ing the  cloth,  and  answering  the  purpose  of 
ordinary  basting.  The  metallic  plate  from 
which  these  wires  project  has  numerous 
holes  through  it,  which  answer  the  purpose 
of  rack  teeth  in  enabling  the  plate  to  move 
forward,  by  means  of  a  pinion,  as  the 
stitches  are  taken.  The  distance  to  which 
the  said  plate  is  moved,  and,  consequently, 
the  length  of  the  stitches,  may  be  regu- 
lated at  pleasure. 

One    of   the    most    formidable   of   ^Ir. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


459 


Howe's  competitors,  as  a-  successful  in- 
ventor and  niauufacturei",  was  Mr.  I.  M. 
Singer.  His  biographer  speaks  of  him  as 
a  mechanic  of  some  ingenuity  but  of  small 
means,  who,  taking  up  with  a  casual  sug- 
gestion made  to  liim  by  a  comrade,  that  a 
sewing-machine  capable  of  doing  a  greater 
vnrleti/  of  work  would  be  a  profitable 
thing,  ceased  all  other  labor,  and,  borrow- 
ing forty  or  fifty  dollars  of  iiis  friend  Mr. 
Zieber,  applied  himself  unremittingly  to 
tlie  accomplishment  of  his  task.  He 
worked,  as  he  states,  day  and  night,  sleep- 
ing but  three  or  four  hours  out  of  the 
twenty-four,  and  eating  generally  but 
once  a  day,  knowing  that  he  must  get  a 
machine  made  for  forty  dollars,  or  not  get 
it  at  all.  The  machine  was  completed  the 
night  of  the  eleventh  day  from  the  day  it 
was  commenced.  About  nine  o'clock  that 
evening  the  parts  of  the  machine  were 
finally  put  together,  and  a  trial  commenced 
with  it.  The  first  attempt  to  sew  was 
unsuccessful,  and  the  workmen,  who  were 
tired  out  with  almost  unremitting  work, 
left  him  one  by  one,  intimating  that  the 
thing  was  a  failure.  Singer  continued, 
however,  trying  the  machine,  with  Zieber 
to  hold  the  lamp  for  him  ;  but,  in  the  ner- 
vous condition  to  which  he  had  become 
reduced  by  incessant  toil  and  anxiety,  was 
unsuccessful  in  getting  the  machine  to 
sew  tight  stitches.  About  midnight, 
Singer  started  for  the  hotel  where  he  then 
boarded,  accompanied  by  Zieber.  Upon 
the  way,  they  sat  down  on  a  pile  of  boards, 
and  Zieber  asked  Singer  if  he  had  noticed 
that  the  loose  loops  of  thread  en  the  upper 
side  of  the  cloth  came  from  the  needle. 
It  then  flashed  upon  Slnge)''s  mind  that 
he  had  forgotten  to  adjust  the  tension  upon 
the  needle  thread  !  They  both  started  for 
the  shop  again.  Singer  adjusted  the  ten- 
sion, tried  the  machine,  and  sewed  five 
stitches  perfectly,  when  the  thread  broke. 
The  perfection  of  those  stitches,  however, 
satisfied  him  that  the  machine  was  a 
success,  and  he  therefore  stopped  work, 
went  to  the  hotel,  and  had  a  sound  sleep. 
By  three  o'clock  the  next  day,  he  had  the 
machine  finished,  and  started  with  it   to 


New  York,  taking  immediate  steps  to 
secure  a  patent.  It  brought  li'uii,  in  a  few 
1/ears,  princeltj  wealth.  Tlic  peculiarity 
of  this  machine  is  the  chain  stitch  or 
single  thread  device,  but  with  the  emi)]oy- 
ment  of  an  eye-pointed  needle,  and  other 
appliances,  so  as  to  make  it  admirably 
adapted  for  the  general  purposes  of  sewing. 
On  a  similar  principle  are  the  Ladd  and 
Webster,  and  Finkle  and  Lyon,  machines. 

Other  improvements  or  modifications  of 
the  machine  have  been  patented  by  INIcssrs. 
Grover  &  Baker,  Blodgett,  Lerow,  AVilson, 
Morey,  Johnson,  Cliapin,  Gibbs,  Leavitt, 
Watson,  Clark,  Weed,  Arnold,  McKay, 
Langdon,  and  others,  but  whicli  can  only 
be  alluded  to  here.  The  principle  of  the 
double- thread  self- regulating  machine 
brought  forward  by  Mr  Martin,  stopping 
whenever  the  thread  breaks  or  a  loop  is 
missed,  is  claimed  by  several  parties.  A 
number  of  the  machines  patented  after 
Howe's,  use  needles  of  a  different  kind  from 
his,  but  produce  the  same  stitch ;  most  of 
these  instruments  are  equally  correct  in 
respect  to  mechanical  principles,  but  differ 
widely  in  certain  particulars,  one  being 
vertical  and  the  other  horizontal,  one  car- 
rying its  own  cloth  and  another  requiring 
that  it  should  be  carried  by  handj  with 
other  differences. 

But  one  of  the  most  ingenious  and  orig- 
inal devices  in  this  line  remains  to  be 
mentioned,  namely,  a  combination  of  the 
sewing-machine  and  the  melodeon,  by 
Wheeler  and  Wilson,  and  by  them  exhib- 
ited, on  its  completion,  to  an  admiring 
public.  The  apparatus  had  the  appear- 
ance, externally,  of  a  small  parlor  side- 
board or  other  similar  piece  of  furniture. 
On  lifting  the  front,  there  was  seen  a 
handsome  set  of  piano  keys.  On  closing 
it,  and  turning  back  a  hoop  on  the  top, 
there  opened  to  the  view  a  complete 
sewing-machine,  conveniently  arranged. 
Concealed  below,  within  side  doors,  were 
two  pedals,  one  for  the  music,  the  other 
for  the  sewing-machine.  Thus,  by  the 
use  of  one  of  these  ingenious  contrivances, 
when  the  lady  operating  the  machine 
became   tired  of  playing  at    sewing,   she 


470 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


could  change  her  foot  to  the  other  pedal, 
open    the    melodeon    part,    and    discourse 


music 


The  'rotating  hook'  and  feeding 


apparatus  of  the  Wilson  machine  consti- 
tute an  admirable  feature  ;  and  the  same 
may  be  said  of  the  Grover  &  Baker  or 
'double  loop'  stitch. 

Though  at  first  looked  upon  as  of  doubt- 
ful utility,  the  value  of  the  sewing-machine 
was  in  a  short  time  abundantly  demon- 
strated. Curiosity  and  doubt  were  suc- 
ceeded by  admiration,  and  soon  the  demand 
became  extensive  both  at  home  and  abroad, 
until,  at  the  present  time,  the  annual  pro- 
duction of  machines  is  thought  to  approx- 
imate to  half  a  million.  Active  minds 
were  also  not  slow  to  devise  what  they 
deemed  to  be  improvements  in  the  ma- 
chine and  its  appurtenances;  and  to  this 
end,  the  number  of  patent-claims  filed  up 
to  the  present  time  does  not  vary  much 
from  one  thousand,  though  only  an 
extremely  small  proportion  of  these  are  of 
any  really  practical  importance. 

Such  a  revolution  in  the  processes  and 
results  of  national  industry  as  that  effected 
by  this  machine  could  have  entered  into 
no  man's  mind — not  even  the  mind  of  one 


given  to  the  wildest  romancing. 


Thus,  in 


the  brief  period  of  some  dozen  years 
merely,  from  the  time  of  the  introduction 
of  the  machine  to  the  public,  the  value 
and  practical  results  of  the  invention  may 
be  understood  from  the  following  facts, 
which  appeared  in  evidence  in  the  contest 
before  the  commissioner  of  patents,  for  the 
extension  of  Howie's  patent — namely  : 

At  that  time,  tlie  amount  of  the  boot  and 
shoe  l)usiness  of  Massachusetts  was  fifty- 
five  million  dollars  annually,  and  of  this 
amount,  the  ladies'  and  misses'  gaiter- 
boots  and  shoes  involved  one-half.  About 
one-eleventh  of  the  sum  total  above  named 
was  paid  for  sewing  labor.  From  this 
proportion  it  appeared  that  the  annual 
expenditure  for  sewing  upon  ladies'  and 
misses'  gaiter-boots  and  shoes  was  two  and 
a  half  million  dollars,  and  thai;  it  v/ould 
have  cost  four  times  as  much  if  done  by 
hand, — so  that  the  saving  in  a  single  year, 
in  one  state,  by  this  invention,  in  the  man- 


ufacture of  one  special  article  only,  was 
nearly  eight  million  dollars. 

Similarly  conclusive  evidence  was  given 
in  regard  to  the  making  of  shirts,  by  an 
extensive  manufacturer  in  Connecticut, 
who  stated  that  his  factory  turned  out 
about  eight  hundred  dozen  per  week  ;  that 
he  used  four  hundred  sewing-machines, 
and  that  one  machine,  with  an  attendant, 
would  do  the  work  of  five  hand-sewers  at 
least,  and  do  it  better.  He  paid,  at  least, 
four  dollars  per  week  ;  but,  reckoning  it 
at  three  dollars, — the  old  price  for  sewing 
before  machines  were  introduced,  —  it 
showed  a  saving,  in  this  single  manufac- 
tory, of  two  hundred  and  forty  thousand 
dollars.  Allowing,  then,  the  males  of  the 
United  States,  at  that  time,  to  wear  out 
two  shirts  a  year  apiece,  a  proportional 
saving  would  amount  to  the  large  sum  of 
between  eleven  and  twelve  million  dollars 
annually,  in  making  the  single  article  of 
shirts. 

Another  witness,  representing  the  firm 
of  Brooks  Brothers,  of  New  York  city, 
manufacturers  of  clothing,  stated  that  that 
house  alone  did  a  business,  at  the  period 
named,  of  over  a  million  dollars  annually, 
using  twenty  machines  in  the  store, 
besides  patronizing  those  that  others  used, 
and  doing  about  three-fourths  of  all  their 
sewing  by  machines,  and  paying  annually 
for  sewing  labor  about  two  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars ;  seventy-five  thousand  dollars 
of  this  was  saved  by  machines, — that  is, 
the  machines  saved  seventy-five  thousand 
dollars  on  every  two  hundred  thousand 
])aid  for  sewing  labor.  But  the  great 
manufactures  of  this  house  did  not  consti- 
tute, at  most,  but  one-hundredth  part  of 
the  machine-made  clothing  produced  in 
that  city  ;  which  fact,  putting  the  proi)or- 
tion  at  one-hundredth  part,  made  the  busi- 
ness of  manufacturing  machine  clothing  in 
the  city  of  New  York  one  hundred  million 
dollars  i")or  annum  ;  and  thus,  at  the  rate 
])aid  by  that  house  for  sewing,  it  brought 
the  cost  of  sewing  in  that  branch  of  tlie 
business  in  that  city,  —  even  with  the 
assistance  of  the  sewing-machines, — uj)  to 
twenty    million    dollars.       Applying    the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


471 


same  ratio  to  the  estimated  amount  of  this 
branch  of  business  in  the  United  States, 
the  total  would  reacli  tlu^  sum  of  seventy- 
tive  million  dollars.      All  this,  be  it  remem- 


bered, was  in  the  comparative  infancy  of 
the  machine.  Its  pecuniary  importance, 
as  a  labor  af:fent,  is  now  estimated  to  reach 
$500,000,000  annually. 


V 


LIY. 
SPIRITUAL  KNOCKINGS  AND  TABLE-TIPPINGS .— 1847. 


Familiar  Intercourse  Claimed  to  be  Opened  between  Human  and  Disembodied  Beings  — Alleged  Reve- 
lations from  the  Unseen  World. — Singular  and  Humble  Origin,  in  a  Secluded  N.  Y.  Village,  of  this 
Great  Modern  Wonder. — Its  Development  among  All  Nations  in  All  Lands. — Astonishing  and 
Inexplicable  Character  of  the  Manifestations. — First  Rappings  in  H^desville,  N.  Y  — Time,  Manner, 
Circumstances. — A  Murdered  Man's  Spirit — How  the  Mystery  was  Solved. — Happings,  the  Spirit 
Language. — Its  Interpretation  Discovered. — Two  Young  Girls  the  "  Mediums." — Their  Harassed 
Experience — Public  Efforts  to  Sift  the  Matter. — No  Clue  to  any  Deception  — The  Family  go  to 
Rochester. — Kiiockings  Accompany  Them. — New  Forms  of  "  Manitestations." — Many  Mediums 
Spring  Up — Things  Strange  and  Startling — Universal  Wonder  Excited. — Theories  of  Explanation. 
— Investigations  and  Reports — Views  of  Agassiz,  Ilerschel,  Etc. — Press  and  Pulpit  Discussions. — 
Dilferent  Opinions  as  to  the  Tendency  of  the  Phenomena — Thirty  Years'  History. 


"1  cannot  dispose  of  another  man's  facts,  nor  allow  him  to  dispose  of  mine."— Emersoit. 


OCHESTER,  K  Y.,  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  and  tliriving  of  Ameri- 
can inland  cities,  has  long  Lome 
the  celebrity  which  attaches  to 
what  are  now  known,  the  world 
over,  as  "  spiritual  manifesta- 
tions,"— hnockings,  rap^^ings,  ta- 
ble-movings,   sjjirit     communica- 

HOUSE  IN  WHICn  SPIRITUAL  KAPPINGS  ORIGINATED.  tloUS        aud       tllC       lilvC.  But        ill 

reality,  to  the  secluded  and  unambitious  village  of  Hydesville,  in  the  town  of 
Arcadia,  Wayne  county,  K  Y.,  belongs  the  pre-eminent  distinction  of  being  the  place 
where  originated,  in  a  manner  most  casual,  and  seemingly  insignificant  for  the  time, 
in  respect  to  duration  or  results,  this  most  mysterious,  wonderful,  and  wide-spread 
physico-psychological  phenomenon  since  the  world  began.  It  was  from  Hydesville  that 
these  manifestations  were  introduced — so  to  speak — in  the  city  first  named,  and  where, 
by  the  great  notoriety  which  soon  characterized  them,  they  came  to  be  known, 
universally,  as  the   "  Rochester  Knockings." 

The  starting  point  of  all,  in  the  history  of  this  astonishing  movement — one  which 
has  extended  to  the  remotest  bounds  of  the  known  world,  which  has  challenged  the 
scrutiny  and  excited  the  wonder  of  monarchs,  savants,  popes,  philosophers,  divines, 
councils  and  synods, — is  the  humble  house  in  Hydesville,  occupied,  in  1847,  by  Mr. 
Michael  Weekman,  who,  at  different   times  that  year,  heard  rappings  upon  his  door, 


GREAT  AND  IMEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


473 


but  on  every  occasion  failed  to  discover 
any  person  present,  or  any  producing 
source  or  cause,  notwitlistanding  tlie 
most  vigilant  watch  was  kept  up  and  the 
niitst  industrious  search  instituted,  by  tlie 
family  and  neighbors.  Under  these 
stramxe  and  uncomfortable  circumstances, 
Mr.  Weekman  left  the  premises,  which, 
however,  were  soon  tenanted  by  the  family 
of  Mr.  John  D.  Fox.  But,  so  far  from 
a  change  of  occupants  being  attended  by 
a  cessation  of  the  rappings,  the  very 
reverse  was  the  fact.  From  March,  1848, 
the  house  was  disturbed,  from  night  to 
night,  by  the  same  constantly  recurring 
sounds — rappings,  tappings,  knocks,  and 
even  shuftiing  of  furniture, — and  which 
could  not  be  accounted  for  on  the  hypothe- 
sis of  natural  agency. 

Nor  were  these  knockings  now  con- 
fined to  the  door  of  the  house,  but  per- 
vaded every  part,  depriving  the  inmates 
of  their  regular  sleep.  In  this  state  of 
wakefulness,  and  the  source  of  the  noises 
appearing  to  be  in  close  proximity  to  the 
bed  occupied  by  two  of  the  Fox  girls,  it  is 
related  tliat  one  of  them,  some  ten  or 
eleven  years  of  age,  thought  she  would 
just  try  the  experiment,  sportively,  ot  re- 
sponding to  the  raps  by  as  close  and 
accurate  a  repetition  of  them  as  was  pos- 
sible with  her  fingers.  Her  efforts  were 
so  far  successful  as  to  elicit  reciprocal 
sounds  from  the  invisible  agency.  In  a 
little  while,  the  parties  were  enabled  to 
open  a  distinct  communication,  by  means 
of  the  following  simple  method,  and  with 
the  accompanying  results,  as  narrated  by 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Fishbough,  an  early  investi- 
gator of  tlie  phenomena.  After  mutual 
responses  had  been  opened,  one  of  the 
girls  said  : 

"  Now  do  as  I  do  ;  count  1,  2,  3,  4,  5, 
6,"  at  the  same  time  striking  her  hands 
together,  the  girl  acting  more  in  sport, 
than  in  expectation  of  what  really  fol- 
lowed. The  same  number  of  raps  re- 
sponded, and  at  similar  intervals.  The 
mother  of  the  girls  then  said :  "  Count 
ten ;  "  and  ten  distinct  raps  were  heard ; 
"Count    fifteen,"    and    that    number    of 


sounds  followed.  She  then  said,  "  Tell 
us  the  age  of  Cathy  (the  youngest  daugh- 
ter) by  rapping  one  for  each  year,"  and 
the  number  of  years  was  rapped  correctly. 
Tlien,  in  like  manner,  the  age  of  each 
of  the  other  children  was  by  request  in- 
dicated by  this  invisible  agent.  Startled 
and  somewhat  alarmed  by  these  manifes- 
tations of  intelligence,  Mrs.  Fox  asked  if 
it  was  a  human  being  who  was  making 
that  noise,  and  if  it  was,  to  manifest  the 
fact  by  making  the  same  noise.  There 
was  no  sound.  She  then  said,  "  If  you 
are  a  spirit,  make  tiro  distinct  sounds." 
Two  raps  were  accordingly  heard.  The 
members  of  the  family  had  by  this  time 
all  left  their  beds,  and  the  house  was  again 
thoroughly  searched,  as  it  had  been  be- 
fore, but  without  discovering  anything 
that  could  explain  the  mystery  ;  and  after 
a  few  more  questions,  and  responses  by 
raps,  the  neighbors  were  called  in  to 
assist  in  further  efforts  to  trace  the  phe- 
nomenon to  its  cause  ;  but  these  persons 
were  no  more  successful  than  the  family 
had  been,  and  they  confessed  themselves 
thoroughly'  confounded.  For  several  sub- 
sequent days  the  village  was  in  a  turmoil 
of  excitement,  and  multitudes  visited  the 
house,  heard  the  raps,  and  interrogated 
the  apparent  intelligence  which  controlled 
them,  but  without  obtaining  any  clue  to 
the  discovei-y  of  the  agent,  further  than 
its  own  persistent  declaration  that  it  was 
a  spirit.  About  three  weeks  after  these 
occui-rences,  David,  a  son  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Fox,  went  alone  into  the  cellar  where 
the  raps  were  then  being  heard,  and  said, 
"  Jf  y^^f-  <^''^  ^^^^  spirit  of  a  hiwian  heivg, 
who  once  lived  on  the  earth,  can  you  rap 
tlie  letters  that  will  spell  your  name? 
and  if  so,  rap  noio  three  times"  Three 
raps  were  promptly  given,  and  David  pro- 
ceeded to  call  the  alphabet,  writing  down 
the  letters  as  they  were  indicated,  and  the 
result  was  the  name  '  Charles  B.  Rosma,' 
a  name  quite  unknown  to  the  famil}',  and 
which  they  Avere  afterward  unable  to 
trace.  The  statement  was  in  like  manner 
obtained  from  the  invisible  intelligence, 
that  he  was  the  spirit  of  a  peddler  who  had 


474 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


been  murdered  in  that  house  some  years 
previous.  It  is  said  that,  at  first,  the  raps 
occurred  in  the  house  even  when  all  the 
members  of  the  family  were  absent,  but 
subsequently  they  occurred  only  in  the 
presence  of  the  two  younger  daughters, 
Catharine  and  Margaretta ;  and,  on  the 
family  removing,  soon  after,  to  the  neigh- 
boring city  of  Rochester,  the  manifesta- 
tions still  accompanied  them  ;  tlie  family 
took  up  their  abode  with  a  married  sis- 
ter, JMrs.  Fish,  who  subsequently  became 
celebrated  as  a  medium,  through  whom 
the  manifestations  were  exhibited. 

The  original  method  of  communication 
— the  spirit  langliage — it  would  appear, 
consisted  in  conveying  an  afiSrmative  by  a 


THE   MISSES  FOX. 


single  rap  (though  perhaps  emphasized 
by  more),  and  a  negative  was  indicated  by 
silence.  Five  raps  demanded  the  alpha- 
bet, and  this  could  be  called  over  by  the 
living  voice,  or  else  in  a  printed  form  laid 
upon  a  table,  and  the  finger  or  a  pencil 
slowly  passed  along  it — when,  on  arriving 
at  the  required  letter,  a  rap  was  heard  ; 
the  querist  then  recommenced,  until  words 
and  sentences  were  spelled  out — upon  the 
accurao}'  or  intelligence  displayed  in 
which,  dc'[)eiided,  in  a  great  degree,  the 
amount  of  faith  popularly  accorded  to  the 
manifestations.  It  was  with  this  key,  the 
conception  of  which  as  adapted  to  the 
mastery  of  the  strange  phenomenon  is 
utterly  incomprehensible,  that  the  above 


information  was  evoked  from  the  mur- 
dered peddler,  who  also  further  .stated  that 
the  number  of  the  years  of  his  fleshly  pil- 
grimage had  been  thirty-one  ;  that  he  had 
been  murdered  in  that  house,  and  buried 
in  the  cellar ;  and  that  the  murderer  was 
alive,  as  were  also  the  children  of  Rosma, 
his  victim. 

Such  revelations  as  these,  which,  as 
soon  as  received  by  the  interlocutors,  were 
freely  given  to  the  world,  excited  pro- 
digious interest,  far  and  near.  The  cel- 
lar was  dug  to  a  great  depth,  to  discover, 
if  possible,  some  evidence  of  murder  hav- 
ing been  committed ;  the  premises  and 
neighborhood  examined  with  great  thor- 
oughness ;  and  inquiries  made  in  all 
directions.  But  all  these  efforts 
failed  to  elicit  any  disclosure  of 
fact  or  circumstance,  bearing  in  the 
slightest  degree  uj)on  such  a  trans- 
action. 

At  length,  on  the  fourteenth  of 
November,  1849,  in  accordance,  as 
was  said,  with  directions  from  '  the 
si^irits,'  a  public  lecture  on  the 
origin  and  character  of  the  mani- 
festations was  given  in  Corinthian 
Hall,  Rochester,  at  which  the  '  me- 
diums '  were  present.  Manifesta- 
tions were  had,  and  a  committee 
was  chosen  from  the  audience  to 
make  thorough  examination  into 
their  nature  and  origin,  and  re2)ort 
at  an  adjourned   meeting  the  next  even- 


ing. 


Intense  interest  was  felt  in  regard  to 
the  result  of  this  committee's  j^roceedings, 
and  in  due  time  their  report  was  made  to  a 
crowded  and  breathless  assembly.  In  this 
report,  the  committee  stated  that  they 
had  made  such  investigations  as  seemed 
necessary  and  practicable ;  that  the  me- 
diums had  apparently  afforded  every 
facilit}'  for  the  most  minute  and  ample 
examination  ;  but  that  they — the  com- 
mittee— had  utterly  failed  to  discover  in 
what  manner  the  mysterious  sounds  or 
ra[)S  were  produced,  or  what  was  their 
cause  or  origin,  there  being  no  visible 
agency  whatever  to  v/hicli,  by  any  process 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


475 


of  ordinary  reasoning,  tlie  phenomena 
could  be  attributed. 

Other  committees  of  gentlemen  arrived 
at  the  same  conclusion  ;  whereupon  a  com- 
mittee of  ladies  was  appointed,  who  took 
the  3'oung  lady  mediums  into  a  private 
room  of  a  hotel  to  which  they  were 
strangers,  and  tliere  disrobed  and  searched 
them.  The  mediums  were  then  made  to 
stand  on  pillows,  with  handkerchiefs  tied 
tightly  around  their  ankles.  The  raps 
were  repeated,  and  intelligent  answers  to 
unpremeditated  questions  were  rapped  in 
the  usual  way. 

But  the  manifestations  —  ^spiritual' 
manifestations,  as  they  were  now,  and 
have  since  continued  to  be,  called — were 
not  long  confined  to  the  Fox  family.  In- 
deed, so  rapid  and  wide-spread  was  the 
development   of  the    phenomena,  that,  in 


D.  D.   HOME. 


the  short  space  of  two  or  three  years,  it 
was  calculated  that  the  number  of  recog- 
nized "  media  "  practicing  in  various  parts 
of  the  United  States,  was  not  less  than 
thirty  thousand. 

Various  theories  continued  to  be  pro- 
pounded as  from  the  first,  though  now 
more  learned  and  scientific,  in  explanation 
of  the  moving  of  tables  and  other  pon- 
derable substances  and  objects,  as  well  as 
the  knockings.  Concerning  the  latter,  it 
has  been  argued  that,  in  spiritualism,  it  is 
the  mind  of  the  person  charging  the 
medium  who  exhibits  all  the  intelligence — 
or  it  may  be  some  one  en  rapport  after  the 
medium  has  been  charged  to  that  degree 
that  the  electricity  overflows  in  raps,  and 


these  raps  are  of  the  same  character  as 
detonations  of  electricity  when  a  positive 
and  negative  cloud  meet  in  mid  air  and 
produce  thunder. 

Another  theory  of  the  cause  of  the  rap- 
2)ings  is  that  of  a  too  great  redundancy  of 
electricity  congregated  upon  the  involun- 
tary nerves,  through  passivity  of  mind, 
and  thus  imparting  to  them  extraordinary 
force. 

The  theory  presented  with  such  philo 
sophical  ability  by  Professor  Mahan,  is, 
that  there  is  in  nature  a  power,  termed, 
scientifically,  the  odylic  or  mesmeric  force, 
which  is  identical  with  the  cause  of  all  the 
mesmeric  and  clairvoyant  phenomena,  on 
the  one  hand,  and  with  the  immediate 
cause  of  these  manifestations,  on  the  other ; 
that  by  reference  to  the  properties  and 
laws  of  this  force  as  developed  in  the  spirit 
circles,  and  to  its  relations  to  the  minds 
constituting  the  same,  every  kind  of  spirit 
phenomena  can  be  most  fully  accounted 
for,  without  the  supposition  of  the  presence 
or  agency  of  disembodied  spirits ;  and  that 
the  entire  real  facts  of  spiritualism  demand 
the  supposition  that  this  force,  in  the  pro- 
duction of  these  communications,  is  con- 
trolled exclusively,  for  the  most  part 
unconsciously,  by  the  minds  in  the  circles, 
and  not  by  disembodied  spirits  out  of  the 
same. 

As  indicating  most  clearly,  according  to 
this  theory,  the  presence  and  action  of  an 
invisible  but  purely  physical  cause  —  a 
cause  connected  with  the  organism  of  par- 
ticular individuals,  its  advocates  do  not 
hesitate  to  cite  all  the  various  wonders  of 
spiritual  manifestation,  whether  mental  or 
material,  not  excepting  the  astonishing 
occurrences  which  transpired  in  Stamford, 
Conn.,  in  1850,  and  which  made  the  name 
of  the  occupant  of  the  house,  Eev.  Dr. 
Phelps,  for  a  long  time  so  famous  through- 
out the  land.  In  this  case,  the  phenomena 
consisted  in  the  moving  of  articles  of  fur- 
niture in  a  manner  not  only  unaccounta- 
ble, but  baffling  all  description. 

By  Professor  Agassiz,  the  knockings 
and  rappings  were,  from  the  very  first, 
pronounced  a  delusion  ;  an  opinion  shared. 


476 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


perhaps,  by  the  whole  body  of  learned 
men  in  the  country.  Professor  Faraday, 
of  England,  claimed  to  demonstrate  that  it 
is  by  pliysical  jjower,  and  not  by  any  mag- 
netic fluid,  that  tables  move  on  being 
pressed  by  the  fingers.  Herschel  sug- 
gested that  there  might  be  a  fluid  which 
served  to  convey  the  orders  of  the  brain  to 
the  muscles. 

Suffice  it  to  add,  that,  as  no  authority 
in  resjDect  to  these  phenomena  is  held  in 
higlier  repute  among  the  disciples  of  the 
new  system,  than  that  of  Mr.  Andrew 
Jackson  Davis,  the  Poughkeepsie  seer,  his 
opinion  that  the  producing  agencies,  in  the 
moving  of  tables  and  other  inorganic  sub- 
stances by  spirits,  are  terrestrial  magnet- 
ism and  electricity,  maj'  be  cited  as  rep- 
resenting the  views  of  a  large  portion, 
probably,  of  the  spiritualists  in  this 
country. 

The  variety  of  phenomena  known  by  the 
general  term  of  '  spiritual  manifestations,' 
is  very  numerous.  Some  of  the  principal, 
as  enumerated  by  Mr.  Ballou  under  five 
several  distinctions,  and  which  is  perhaj^s 
as  fair  and  complete  an  exposition  as  the 
literature  of  spiritualism  affords,  are  the 
following : — 

First — making  peculiar  noises,  indica- 
tive of  more  or  less  intelligence,  such  as 
knockings,  rappings,  jarrings,  creakings, 
tickings,  imitation  of  many  sounds  known 
in  the  different  vicissitudes  of  human  life, 
musical  intonations,  and,  in  rare  instances, 
articulate  speech.  Some  of  these  various 
sounds  are  very  loud,  distinct,  and  forcible ; 
others  are  low,  less  distinct,  and  more 
gentle,  but  all  audible  realities. 

Second — the  moving  of  material  sub- 
stances, with  like  indications  of  intelli- 
gence, such  as  tables,  sofas,  light-stands, 
chairs,  and  various  other  articles,  shaking, 
tipping,  sliding,  raising  them  clear  of  tlie 
floor,  placing  them  in  new  positions,  (all 
this  sometimes  in  spite  of  atldetic  and 
heavy  men  doing  their  utmost  to  hold 
them  down ;)  taking  up  the  passive  body  of 
a  person,  and  carrying  it  from  one  position 
to  another  across  the  room,  througli  mid- 
air; opening  and  shutting  doors;  thrum- 


ming musical  instruments ;  undoing  well- 
clasped  pocket-books,  taking  out  their 
contents,  and  then,  by  request,  replacing 
them  again  ;  writing  witli  pens,  pencils, 
and  other  substances,  both  liquid  and  solid 
— sometimes  on  paper,  sometimes  on  com- 
mon slates,  and  sometimes  on  the  ceilings 
of  a  room,  etc. 

Third — causing  cataleps}',  trance,  clair- 
voyance, and  various  involuntary  muscu- 
lar, nervous,  and  mental  activit}^  in  medi- 
ums, independent  of  any  will  or  conscious 
psychological  influence  b}"  men  in  the  flesh, 
and  then  through  such  mediums,  speak- 
ing, writing,  preaching,  lecturing,  philoso- 
phizing, prophes^'ing,  etc. 

Fourth  —  presenting  apparitions:  in 
some  instances,  of  a  spirit  hand  and  arm  ; 
in  others,  of  the  whole  human  form ;  and 
in  others,  of  several  deceased  persons  con- 
versing together  ;  causing  distinct  touches 
to  be  felt  by  the  mortal  living,  grasping 
and  shaking  their  hands,  and  giving  many 
other  sensible  demonstrations  of  their 
existence. 

Fifth — through  these  various  manifes- 
tations communicating  to  men  in  the  flesh 
numberless  affectionate  and  intelligent 
assurances  of  an  immortal  existence,  mes- 
sages of  consolation,  and  annunciations  of 
distant  events  unknown  at  the  time,  but 
subsequently  corroborated ;  predictions  of 
forthcoming  occurrences  subsequently  ver- 
ified, forewarnings  against  impending 
danger,  medicinal  prescriptions  of  great 
efficacy,  wholesome  re[)roofs,  admonitions, 
and  counsels,  expositions  of  si)iritual,  theo- 
logical, religious,  moral,  and  philosophical 
truths  appertaining  to  the  present  and 
future  states,  and  important  to  liuman  wel- 
fare in  every  sphere  of  existence,  some- 
times comj)rised  in  a  single  sentence,  and 
sometimes  in  an  amjile  book. 

It  is  taught  by  writers  on  s[)iritualism, 
that  it  is  a  grand  religious  reformation, 
designed  and  destined  to  correct  theologi- 
cal errors,  to  remove  sectarian  barriers, 
and  to  excite  more  warmly  the  religious 
element  among  mankind.  This  claim  is 
denied  by  those  opposed  to  the  movement, 
who  charge  it  as  aiming,  or  tending,  to  do 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


477 


away  with  tlio  Biltlo,  to  ovevtlirow  Chris- 
tianit}',  and  destroy  tlie  Cliurcli  and  its 
institutions,  —  indeed,  to  break  up  the 
whole  framo-work  of  society  as  at  })resent 
constituted.  The  discussion  lias  engaged, 
in  the  press  and  pulpit,  and  on  either  side, 
the  profoundest  adepts  in  theology,  science, 
and  philosoi)hy ;  and,  though  none  dispute 
that  fraud  and  imposture  have  jdayed  their 


their  own  thoughts,  without  any  knowl- 
edge at  the  time,  on  his  part,  of  either 
ideas  or  subject ;  the  hand-writing  of  each 
was  unlike  that  of  the  other,  and,  though 
both  were  written  by  Dr.  Dexter's  hand, 
they  were  both  wholly  unlike  his,  and  this 
characterized  the  whole  of  the  volumin- 
ous communications,  according  to  these 
authors'  statement. 


CORA  L.  V.   HATCH. 


A.  J.  DAVIS. 


JUDGE  EDMONDS. 


part,  in  multitudes  of  instances,  in  con- 
nection with  the  matter,  it  is  admitted 
that  the  plienomena,  under  reputable 
auspices,  exhibit  great,  novel,  and  aston- 
ishing facts. 

Since  the  initiation  of  the  movement,  or 
phenomena,  in  1847,  by  the  Misses  Fox, 
the  most  distinguished  mediums  have  been 
A.  J.  Davis,  D.  D.  Home,  Mrs.  Cora  L.  V. 
Hatch,  etc.,  etc. ;  the  most  widely  cele- 
brated authors,  A.  J.  Davis,  Judge  Ed- 
monds, and  George  T.  Dexter,  Adin  Ballou, 
and  some  others.  The  learned  work  bear- 
ing  the   joint   authorship   of  Judge   Ed- 


monds and  Dr.  Dexter  is  generally  pro- 
nounced one  of  the  ablest  productions, 
devoted  to  the  philosophy  of  these  modern 
wonders.  A  notable  feature  in  the  con- 
tents of  this  work  are  the  alleged  communi- 
cations received  from  Swedenborg  and  Lord 
Bacon,  written,  in  their  own  hand-writing, 
from  the  spirit  world, — -they  using  Dr. 
Dexter's  hand  as  the  instrument  to  convey 


The  different  kinds  of  mediums  are 
classified,  by  Judge  Edmonds,  into  those 
who  disturb  the  equanimity  of  material 
objects,  without  any  intelligence  being 
necessarily  or  usually  communicated 
through  them,  for  the  purpose  of  address- 
ing to  the  human  senses  the  idea  of  a 
physical  communion  with  a  power  out  oi 
and  beyond  mere  mortal  agency;  con- 
nected with  this  class,  though  with  the 
addition  of  an  intelligent  communion 
between  the  mortal  and  the  invisible 
power,  are  the  mediums  for  table-tippings; 
another  class  consists  of  those  who  write, 


their  hands  being  affected  by  a  power 
manifestly  beyond  their  own  control,  and 
not  emanating  from  or  governed  by  their 
own  will ;  a  fourth  species  are  speaking 
mediums,  some  of  whom  speak  when  in 
the  trance  state,  and  some  when  in  their 


478 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


normal  or  natural  condition,  in  which 
cases  the  invisible  intelligence  seems  to 
take  possession  of  the  mind  of  the  medium, 
and  compel  the  utterance  of  its  ideas, 
sometimes  in  defiance  of  the  will  of  the 
mortal  through  whom  it  is  talking; 
impressible  mediums  are  those  who  re- 
ceive impressions  in  their  minds  to 
which  they  give  utterance,  either  by 
writing  or  speaking,  their  faculties  be- 
ing entirely  under  their  own  control;  still 
Another  class  are  those  who  see,  or  seem 


to  see,  the  objects  presented  to  their  con- 
sideration. 

In  all  the  nations  of  Europe,  Asia,  and 
Africa,  the  phenomena  of  spiritualism 
have  become  widely  prevalent ;  and,  only 
ten  years  subsequent  to  the  first  develop- 
ment, its  newspapers  estimated  the  number 
of  its  avowed  adherents  at  one  and  a  half 
million,  with  one  thousand  public  advo- 
cates, forty  thousand  public  and  private 
mediums,  and  a  literature  of  five  hundred 
different  works. 


LY. 

VOYAGE    OF   THE    UNITED    STATES    SHIP   JAMESTOWN, 
WITH  A  CARGO  OF  FOOD  FOR  THE  STARVING  IN 

IRELAND.— 1847. 


Famine,  Pestilence,  Woe  and  Death  Sweep  Frightfully  Over  That  Land. — Appeal  to  the  Sympathy  of 
Nations. — The  Tale  of  Horror  Borne  Across  the  Atlantic. — Spontaneous  Generosity  of  America. — A 
Ship-ofWar  Converted  Into  a  Ship  of  Peace,  and  Laden  with  Free  Gifts  for  the  Siifferinfi;. — Total 
f'ailure  of  the  Potato  Crop. — A  Universal  Scourge. — Disease  Added  to  Destitution. — Ghastly  t^cencs 
on  every  Side. — Multitudes  Perish  in  tlie  Streets. — Parliament  Grants  $50,000,000. — The  Message  of 
Humanity. — America's  Readj'  Bounties. — Use  of  the  Jamestown  Granted. — Food  Substituted  for 
Guns. — Interesting  Bill  of  Lading. — Departure  from  Boston. — Enthusiastically  Cheered  — Only  Fif- 
teen Days'  Passage. — Going  up  the  Harbor  of  Cork. — Throngs  of  Famished  Spectators. — Tumultu- 
ous Greetings  on  Arrival. — Public  Welcomes  and  Honors. — A  Tour  of  Inspection. — Indescribable 
Horrors. — Distribution  of  the  Cargo. — The  Mission  a  Great  Success. 


"  And  thou,  raiKhty  ehip,  liuiU  by  raan  to  destroj. 
Thou,  the  first  of  thy  race,  bear'st  an  errand  of  joy.' 


,  „,,,,  WING  to  the  failure  of  the  potato  crop  in  Ireland,  in  the  year  1846,  a  great 
'7tdn     famine  fell  upon  that  unfortunate  land,  and,  during  tliat  and  the  succeeding 
year,  thousands  perished  with  hunger.     Notwithstanding  the  successive 
grants  of  relief  made  by  parliament,  amounting  in  the  aggregate  to  fifty 
millions  of  dollars,  together  with  the  munificence  of  the  Avealthy,  desti- 
tution, famine,  and  disease  pervaded  almost  the  entire  population.    Such, 
ideed,  was  the  fearful  mortality  in  some  of  the  townS;  that  one-third  of 
le  inhabitants  fell  victims,    their   corpses   being   found,    in   frequent 
instances,  lying  in  the  streets,  uncoffined  and  unknown. 
As  illustrating  the  frightful  character  and  circumstances 
distinguishing  this   scourge,   one  of  the  official  visitors  to 
these  scenes  of  woe  states  that  on  entering  one  of  the  famiiie 
hovels  in   Kennare,  he  found  five   or  six  of  the 
inmates  lying  in  fever,  huddled  together  on  the 
damp  and  cold  ground,  with  scarce  a  wisj)  of  straw 
under  them  ;  in  another  cabin,  four  or  five  unfor- 


tunate beings,  just  risen  from  fever,  crouched  over 
a  small  pot  of  sea-weed  boiling  on  the  fire,  that  one 
of  them  had  crawled  to  the  shore  to  collect  fw 
their  dinner.  An  equally  ghastly  case  was  that  of 
a  poor  fellow,  whose  mother  lay  beside  him  dead 
two  days;  he  was  burning  with  rage  to  think  she 
should  have  come  to  such  an  end,  as  to  die  of  starv- 
ation. But  a  more  distressing  object  still,  was 
SCENE  OF  MISERY  DURING  THE  FAMINE.      that  of  a  sick   uiother,   bcsidc   whom  lay  a  child 


480 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


dead,  for  tlie  twenty-four  hours  previous  ; 
two  otliers  lay  close  by,  just  expiring,  and, 
to  add  to  the  horrors  of  the  sight,  a  fam- 
ished cat  got  upon  the  bed,  and  was  only 
prevented  by  timely  intervention  from 
gnawing  the  corpse  of  the  deceased  infant. 
Perhaps  the  spread  and  extent  of  this 
calamity  can  be  best  comprehended  by  the 
manner  in  which  it  affected  the  Cork  dis- 
trict. In  the  year  1840,  under  the  law  for 
the  relief  of  the  poor,  a  work-house  was 
provided  in  Cork,  sufficient  to  meet  the 
wants  of  some  two  thousand  persons,  and, 
until  the  year  1845,  such  accommodation 
was  abundant.  In  1846,  however,  things 
began  to  alter,  when  the  destruction  of  the 
potato  crop  began  to  be  experienced. 
Soon,  the  work-house  filled  to  overflowing. 
Additional  buildings  were  erected — they 
too  were  filled.  Accommodation  was  then 
provided  for  twelve,  and  subsequently  for 
eighteen  hundred  people,  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  work-house.  Every  inch  of 
space  was  occupied,  so  soon  as  it  was  avail- 
able ;  and  yet  the  aj^plicants  for  admission 
crowded  pantingly  at  the  doors.  They 
were  not  repelled  until  more  than  five 
thousand  and  three  hundred  human  beings 
were  crowded  into  a  space  originally  meant 
to  receive  two  thousand.  As  a  necessary 
consequence,  a  pestilence  was  genei-ated, 
which  destroyed  life  to  an  extent  unheard 
of  —  and  still  the  admissions  went  on! 
The  vacancies  created  by  death  or  other- 
wise, were  immediately  filled,  by  eager 
applicants,  who,  in  their  turn,  and  speed- 
il}',  fell  beneath  the  stroke  of  death.  And 
this  pestilence,  though  of  course  raging 
fiercest  within  the  work -house,  was  not 
confined  to  its  precincts  and  beneficiaries; 
the  guardians,  chaplains,  and  physicians, 
all  shared  in  the  visitation  of  the  destroyer, 
and  the  attendant  frightful  mortality.  It 
was  a  matter  of  inevitable  necessity-,  to 
crowd  the  fever  patients  together  so 
thickly,  that  they  were  forced  to  lie  three 
and  four  in  one  bed ;  and  frequently  it  was 
necessary  to  administer  the  last  consola- 
tions to  the  dying,  in  tlic  very  bed  in 
which  lay  a  corpse.  When  it  was  thus  in  a 
public  institution  supported  and  regulated 


by  law,  imagination  can  readily  picture  the 
scenes  in  tbose  dreary  cabins  of  the  j^oor 
that  cover  the  land. 

But  the  picturings  of  the  imagination 
merely,  may  well  be  spared,  in  A'iew  of  tlie 
gaunt  array  of  awful  facts  which  make  up 
this  tragedy  of  human  woe.  Having  placed 
the  miseries  of  Cork  in  the  foreground  of 
this  brief  narrative,  some  reference  is  like- 
wise due  to  the  condition  of  those  districts 
which,  being  mountainous  and  largely 
populated,  Avere  exposed  to  a  peculiar 
intensity  of  privation,  and  of  consequent 
suffering.  Among  these  districts — and  it 
furnishes  simply  a  type  of  all  the  others 
which  might  be  cited,  did  space  permit. — 
was  that  of  Kilworth,  which  comprises 
that  very  extensive  range  of  upland, 
known  as  the  Kilworth  mountains,  and 
the  small  extent  of  low  land  attached  to  it. 
Out  of  a  total  population  of  nine  thousand 
and  eight  hundred  souls,  there  were  at  one 
time  over  seven  thousand  in  the  greatest 
state  of  misery  and  distress,  and,  of  these, 
five  thousand  had  not,  unless  given  them, 
a  single  meal  with  which  to  satisfy  their 
hunger.  This  arose,  as  in  the  other  dis- 
tricts, from  the  total  failure  of  the  potato, 
upon  Avhich  the  people  solely  relied,  to- 
gether with  the  additional  misfortune  of  an 
unj^roductive  oat  crop.  Some  were  found 
dead  in  the  fields,  others  dropped  down 
dead  by  the  side  of  the  roads,  and  multi- 
tudes expired  in  their  miserable  cabins 
from  cold,  hunger,  and  nakedness.  Only 
now  and  then  was  any  coroner  called,  the 
deaths  being  too  numerous  to  admit  of 
formal  investigation  into  each.  At  one  of 
the  inquests,  however,  it  appeared  that  a 
poor  man  named  James  Carth}',  in  the 
last  stage  of  weakness  and  exhaustion, 
having  been  given  a  small  quantity  of 
meal  took  it  home,  Avhere  his  unfortunate 
wife  Avas  confined  to  her  bed  of  straw  by 
want  and  fever.  Having  made  a  fire,  he 
attempted  to  cook  some  'stir-about,'  but 
his  strength  failed  him;  he  grew  giddy, 
and  fell  with  his  face  into  the  fire.  Tlie 
poor  wife  perceiving  that  he  could  not 
extricate  liimself,  in  vain  attempted  to 
leave  her  bed  to  assist  him.     She  had  not 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


481 


the  strength  to  move.  She  heard  the 
crackling  of  tlie  fire,  and  she  saw  her  hus- 
band writhe  and  expire.  The  effect  upon 
her  mind  and  body  was  too  mucli  for  her 
to  bear,  and,  in  just  an  hour  afterwards, 
she  also  was  a  corpse.  Such  instances  as 
this,  of  terrible  individual  suffering,  were 
not  at  all  peculiar  or  rare.  Every  day 
furnished  its  sad  tales,  and  the  living 
heard,  and  endeavored  to  drive  from  their 
minds,  as  soon  as  they  could,  the  horrify- 
ing particulars  that  were  related. 

And  now  it  was,  that,  in  the  midst  of 
her  four-fold  horrors  of  destitution,  pesti- 
lence, famine,  and  death,  the  cry  of  poor 
Ireland,  appealing  to  the  charity  of  nations 
and  of  individuals,  winged  itself  across  the 
Atlantic,  and  enlisted  the  generous  sympa- 
thies of  fair  Columbia.  On  the  twenty- 
second  of  February,  1847,  certain  Boston 
merchants  petitioned  congress  to  lend  one 
of  the  national  ships-of-war,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  carrying  to  Ireland  a  cargo  of  pro- 
visions;  and  on  the  third  day  of  March, 
the  last  stormy  day  of  the  session,  when 
the  attention  of  every  mind  in  congress 
Avas  taken  up  in  the  discussion  of  momen- 
tous qviestions  pertaining  to  finance  and 
war,  the  peojile  of  the  United  States,  be  it 
said  to  their  honor,  voted  through  their 
representatives,  the  loan  of  the  frigate 
Macedonian  to  Captain  George  C.  DeKay, 
of  New  Jersey,  and  the  loan  of  the  sloop- 
of-war  Jamestown  to  Captain  Robert  Ben- 
nett Forbes  ;  and  by  a  joint  resolution  of 
both  houses  of  congress,  the  president  and 
the  secretary  of  the  navy  were  authorized 
to  send  these  vessels  at  the  expense  of  the 
United  States,  or  to  put  them  into  the 
hands  of  the  gentlemen  named,  for  the 
purpose  indicated.  The  secretary  of  the 
navy,  Hon.  John  Y.  Mason,  in  view  of  the 
demand  for  all  the  resources  of  the  cfov- 
ernment  to  carry  on  operations  against 
Mexico,  chose  the  latter  alternative. 
Much  credit  was  due  to  the  efforts  of  Hon. 
Robert  C.  Winthrop,  in  congress,  for  this 
favorable  result. 

In  view  of  the  splendid  success  which. 

from    first    to   last,    attended    this    grand 

national  charity,  in  connection  especially 
31 


with  the  voyage  of  the  Jamestown  under 
the  gallant  and  honored  Forbes,  this  sketch 
will  detail  the  circumstances  attending 
the  career  of  that  noble  pioneer  ship  and 
her  distinguished  commander,  deviating  as 
little  as  possible  from  the  official  narrative- 
Five  days  after  the  passage  of  the  resolu- 
tion of  congress,  the  secretary  of  the  navy 
ordered  Commodore  Parker,  of  the  Charles- 
town  navy  yard,  to  prepare  the  Jamestown 
by  the  removal  of  her  armament,  and 
deliver  her  to  Captain  Forbes.  This  order 
came  to  hand  on  the  eleventh  of  March, 
and  on  the  seventeenth,  being  St.  Patrick's 
day,  the  ''Laborers'  Aid  Society,"  of  Bos- 
ton, composed  principally,  if  not  entirely, 
of  poor  Irishmen,  j^ut  their  hands  and 
minds  to  the  holy  work,  and  in  the  course 
of  that  day,  one-seventh  part  of  the  cargo 
was  stowed  away ;  and  b}'^  the  twenty- 
seventh,  notwithstanding  the  interruption 
by  bad  weather,  the  ship  was  full,  drawing 
nearly  twenty  feet,  and  having,  with  her 
stores,  about  eight  thousand  barrels  bulk, 
of  provisions,  grain,  meal,  etc.,  on  board, — 
the  voluntary,  free  and  hearty  contribu- 
tions, from  all  classes  and  sects,  to  the 
suffering  people  of  Ireland, — all  intrusted 
to  the  care  of  one  of  the  truest  men  and 
most  skillful  nautical  commanders  in  all 
America. 

The  cargo  thus  in  readiness,  was  in- 
voiced as  "provisions,  breadstuffs,  and 
clothing,  shipjjed  by  the  Boston  relief 
committee,  on  board  the  United  States 
Sldp  of  Peace,  Jamestown,  R.  B.  Forbes 
commander,  and  to  him  consigned."  As 
such  a  bill  of  lading,  purelj'  in  the  inter- 
ests of  international  charity,  was  probably 
never  before  identified  Avith  the  history  of 
a  government  naval  vessel,  the  record  of 
its  contents  may  well  have  a  place  in  these 
pages,  to  gratify  the  laudable  curiosity  of 
the  humane.  But  even  this  constitutes 
but  a  portion — the  first  shipment  only — of 
the  gifts  of  the  citizens  of  New  England 
and  the  United  States,  namely  :  four  hun- 
dred barrels  jiork ;  one  hundred  tierces 
hams ;  six  hundred  and  fifty-five  barrels 
corn  meal ;  two  thousand  five  hundred  and 
one  bags  ditto,   of   one-half   barrel   each  ; 


482 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


four  hundred  and  seventy-five  bags  ditto, 
of  sixty  pounds  each ;  two  hundred  and 
sixty  bags  ditto,  of  one-quarter  barrel  eacli ; 
one  thousand  four  hundred  and  fifty-two 
bags  ditto,  of  one-eighth  barrel  each ;  one 
thousand  four  hundred  and  ninety-six 
bags  northern  corn,  one  thousand  three 
hundred  and  seventy-five  barrels  of  bread, 
three  hundred  and  fifty-three  barrels  beans, 
■eighty-four  barrels  peas,  eight  hundred 
emptj^  bags.  The  items  thus  enumerated 
pertain  to  the  Boston  contributions  sent 
by  the  Jamestown ;  the  remaining  schedule 
of  articles  embraces  gifts  from  other  towns 
in   New   England,  namely :  five    hundred 


'§^f£9^;;'V<a:> 


CORN  FOK  THE   LAND  OF  WANT  AND   WOK. 

and  thirty-three  barrels  of  corn,  one-half 
barrel  of  pork,  eighteen  barrels  corn  meal, 
one-half  barrel  oatmeal,  ten  barrels  oat- 
meal, eighty-four  barrels  potatoes,  one  bag 
ditto,  five  hundred  and  forty-seven  bags 
corn,  one  barrel  flour,  one  barrel  rye,  ten 
bags  rye,  one  box  rye,  one  barrel  oats,  one 
box  oats,  three  bags  wheat,  one  tierce 
dried  apples,  three  tierces  beans,  one  bag 
beans,  six  boxes  fish  ;  two  hundred  bags 
meal,  one-eighth  barrel  each ;  one-half 
barrel  meal,  sixteen  barrels  clothing,  one- 
half-barrel  ditto,  nine  boxes  ditto,  two 
bundles  ditto;  fifty  barrels  flour,  one-half 
barrel    ditto,  one  hundred  ditto  rice,  fifty 


barrels  corn  meal,  two  barrels  bread,  sixty 
barrels  beans,  one-half  barrel  ditto,  four 
barrels  peas,  four  boxes  clothing. 

This  was  the  bill  of  lading  which  cov- 
ered the  freight  of  the  Jamestown, — that 
ark  of  charity, — commissioned,  by  a  nation 
possessed  at  the  time  of  but  few  ships  of 
war,  and  at  that  very  moment  engaged  in 
a  contest  requiring  all  her  disposable 
naval  force,  to  proceed  to  the  city  of  Cork. 
The  last  time  the  war-flag  of  America 
floated  in  the  British  seas  was  in  1812. 
England  and  the  United  States  were  then 
in  hostile  collision.  But  in  every  encoun- 
ter of  the  latter  power,  in  the  guardianship 
of  her  rights  and  the  defense  of  her  honor, 
she  showed  that  irrepressible  character 
which  belongs  to  an  energetic  nation  once 
fairly  roused;  and,  notwithstanding  all 
the  unfavorable  circumstances  of  a  hurried 
organization,  defective  vessels,  wretched 
equipment,  and  want  of  arsenals,  docks, 
system,  combination,  trained  ofiicers,  and 
naval  discipline,  England  had  never  be- 
fore met  with  an  enemy  so  destructive  to 
her  trade  as  America  proved.  During  the 
first  two  years  of  privateering  that  fol- 
lowed the  declaration  of  war,  many  hun- 
dred sail  of  British  merchantmen  were 
captured.  But  now,  all  this  is  changed 
and  reversed.  An  American  war  vessel  is 
sent  to  cruise  up  the  Irish  channel,  but  it 
is  on  a  cruise  of  mercy;  though  a  "vessel 
of  wrath,"  fitted  for  the  work  of  destruc- 
tion, she  has  been  disarmed,  and  converted 
into  a  ministering  messenger  of  succor  to 
the  famished.  She  bears  no  secret  and 
spying  orders,  but  her  mission  is  open  as 
day.  Her  caliber  can  be  estimated  from 
the  weight  she  bears  of  corn — not  can- 
non ;  her  discharges  are  not  to  be  of  "  iron 
rain,"  but  to  descend  in  peaceful  manna. 
In  a  word,  she  goes  laden  with  food  to 
those  who  are  ready  to  perish  ;  and,  having 
consummated  her  great  work,  and  having 
achieved  a  nobler  triumph  than  ever  yet 
crowned  the  most  successful  ship  of  prey 
and  blood,  she  will  return  with  no  red- 
dyed  pennon  flaunting  from  her  mast-head, 
but,  rather,  with  the  grateful  esteem  and 
affectionate  attachment  of  one  of  the  most 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


483 


varm-hearted  people  on  the  face  of  the 
globe,  and  with  the  gracious  smile  and 
blessing  of  lieuven. 

On  the  twenty-seventh  of  March,  Cap- 
tain Forbes  gave  a  receipt  for  the  ship 
and  her  apparel,  etc.,  the  officers  of  the 
navy  yard  having  rigged  her  while  the 
cargo  was  being  received.  The  outfit  was 
Tery  complete,  and  on  Sunday,  March 
twenty-eighth,  at  half-past  eight  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  the  ship  cast  off,  amid  the 
hearty  cheers  and  fervent  prayers  of  the 
assembled  crowd,  and  made  sail  on  her 
course.  At  three  o'clock,  the  noble  ship 
had  passed  the  Highlands  of  Cape  Cod, 
and  w^as  fairly  launched  on  the  broad 
Atlantic,  on  a  voj'age  full  of  hope  and 
jjleasure.  Forbes,  the  large-hearted,  brave 
and  skillful  commander — whose  time  and 
services  for  the  expedition  were  a  free-will 
offering  to  the  cause  of  humanity, — said 
that  it  was  to  him  a  day  full  of  mingled 
amotions  of  satisfaction,  unalloyed  by  any 
unhappy  feeling,  save  that  momentary  and 
easily  forgiven  weakness  that  comes  over 
a  man  when  parting  from  his  family ! 
Grand,  nohle-liearted  Forbes! 

Thus  auspiciously  under  way,  the  ship 
of  peace,  though  three  feet  or  more  deeper 
than  her  usual  man-of-war  trim,  sailed  and 
■worked  admirabl}',  and  altlior^^h  her  crew 
proved  very  light  and  not  altogether  effi- 
cient, she  sped  on  successfully,  crossed  the 
Banks  in  forty-three  and  one-half  degrees, 
against  the  will  of  her  navigators,  wdth 
south,  south-east,  and  southerly  winds, 
and  a  dense  fog,  the  thermometer  varying 
several  degrees  in  the  air  and  water,  indi- 
cating the  proximity  of  ice, — and  after  a 
succession  of  rainy,  dirty  weather,  and 
variable  winds,  the  good  bark  cast  anchor 
in  Cork,  outer  harbor,  on  the  twelfth  of 
April,  exactli/  fifteen  days  and  three  hours 
from  the  navy  yard  at  Charlestown,  with- 
out having  lost  a  rope  yarn. 

The  Jamestown  was  xevy  soon  visited 
by  Lieutenant  Commanding  Protheroe,  of 
her  majesty's  flag-ship,  the  Ci'ocodile, 
under  Rear  Admiral  Sir  Hugh  Pigot,  who 
came  to  say  that  everj^thing  would  be 
done,  within  the  admiral's  power,  to  expe- 


dite the  delivery  of  the  cargo,  and  for  the 
dispatch  of  the  ship  on  her  return  to  the 
United  States.  Intimation  was  accord- 
ingly given,  that  the  timely  aid  of  a 
steamer  would  be  very  acceptable,  to  take 
the  ship  to  the  government  warehouses  at 
Haulbowline.  Unfortunately,  no  steamer, 
belonging  to  the  public  service,  was  just 
then  at  Cork  or  Cove,  and  it  was  therefore 
necessary  to  wait  patiently  until  Tuesday 
afternoon,  when  the  steam  sloop  Geyser 
was  expected  to  arrive  ;  but  just  after  the 
Jamestown  had  weighed  anchors,  in  prep- 
aration, and  no  steamer  coming,  the 
Sabrina,  Captain  Parker,  came  along,  she 
being  a  packet  running,  and  then  bound,  to 
Bristol.  Captain  Parker  shaved  the  ship's 
stern  so  close  as  to  take  off  her  spanker- 
boom,  and  hailing,  asked  the  commander 
if  he  wished  to  be  towed  up ;  a  hearty 
affirmative  was  the  response.  The  Sabrina 
forthwith  towed  her  honored  consort  up  to 
the  government  stores  at  Haulbowline, 
opposite  the  town  of  Cove,  and  seven  or 
eight  miles  below  the  city  of  Cork,  forming 
a  truly  beautiful  harbor. 

Meanwhile,  the  tidings  of  the  approach 
of  the  good  ship,  with  her  rich  and  weighty 
freight  of  food  for  the  perishing,  was  spread 
far  and  wide,  and  many  were  they  who 
watched  anxiously  from  the  shore,  the 
form  of  that  noble  craft  as  she  passed 
along,  and  which  was  now  their  only  hope. 
Even  before  the  anchor  had  fairlj'  bitten 
the  soil,  a  deputation  of  the  citizens  of 
Cove,  consisting  of  all  parties  in  politics 
and  all  creeds  of  religion,  waited  on  Cap- 
tain Forbes,  with  an  address  of  welcome, 
to  which  he  promptly  and  handsomely 
responded.  The  Cove  Temperance  Band 
came  and  remained  on  board  all  daj-,  dis- 
coursing sweet  music,  Yankee  Doodle  and 
Lucy  Long  being  performed  with  especial 
frequency  and  vim.  A  plenty  of  men 
came  from  the  Crocodile  to  assist  in 
weighing  the  shijj's  anchors,  and  at  night 
the  town  of  Cove  was  illuminated.  As  the 
Jamestown  passed  up  the  harbor  in  tow  of 
the  packet,  she  received  the  cheers  of  thou- 
sands who  lined  the  hills  and  quay,  and 
innumerable  ladies  waved  their  handker- 


484 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


chiefs  in  token  of  delight.  Wlien  parting 
with  Captain  Parker  and  his  very  service- 
able packet,  the  crew  and  passengers  of  the 
latter  joined  in  a  rousing  salute  to  the 
American  visitors,  which  was  answered 
heartily  and  lustily  from  the  Jamestown 
as  well  as  from  the  assembled  throng. 

On  Wednesday,  the  fourteenth,  the 
work  of  discharging  the  cargo  into  the 
government  warehouses  commenced,  with- 
out any  form  of  entry  or  detention  other- 
wise. Captain  Forbes  called  on  the  United 
States  consul,  noted  his  protest,  and  tlien 
went  to  Cork  in  company  with  that  good 
and  great  man,  Theobald  Mathew,  and 
his  brother  ;  was  by  him  introduced  to  the 
collector,  and  to  other  gentlemen  of  note, 
and  had  a  very  warm  reception  from  all. 
On  Thursday,  the  fifteenth  of  April,  the 
citizens  of  Cove  invited  Captain  Forbes  to 
a  banquet.  The  brilliant  company  assem- 
bled at  six  o'clock,  and,  after  the  usual 
regular  toasts, — 'The  Queen,'  and  'Prince 
Albert  and  the  Royal  Family,'  — the  chair- 
man, Hon.  Mr.  Power,  introduced  the 
health  of  the  guest,  with  some  flattering 
encomiums  on  the  generosity  of  the  people 
of  New  England  ;  these  courtesies  were 
acknowledged  by  Captain  Forbes,  in  a 
speech  which  elicited  unbounded  applause. 
Great  harmony  and  enthusiasm  prevailed, 


all  classes  in  politics  and  religion  in  the 
town  uniting  to  do  honor  to  the  occasion 
and  the  guest,  for  the  name  of  Forbes  had 
everywhere  become  a  household  word  of 
honor  and  admiration,  such  as  any  prince 
of  the  kingdom  might  envy. 

An  invitation  having  been  extended  to 
Captain  Forbes  to  meet  the  Temperance 
Institute  at  Cork,  on  the  nineteenth, — the 
institute  of  which  Father  Mathew  was 
both  parent  and  president,  —  Captain 
Forbes  accepted  the  same.  The  occasion 
was  one  specially  made  for  an  expression 
of  gratitude  to  the  people  of  America.  In 
consequence  of  the  distress  out  of  doors, 
the  regular  soirees  had  been  omitted  ;  but 
at  this  time  the  hall  was  beautifully  orna- 
mented with  the  flags  of  England,  Ire- 
land, and  the  United  States,  and  an 
accomplished  choir  discoursed  Yankee 
Doodle,  Lucy  Long,  Jim  Crow,  Hail 
Columbia,  and  sundry  national  Irish  mel- 
odies. The  chairman  and  others  presented 
eloquent  addresses,  the  ladies  clapped 
their  gentle  hands,  and  their  kerchiefs 
waved  welcome  and  gratitude  to  America. 
Captain  Forbes  made  a  brief  reply,  in 
which  he  told  the  ladies,  that,  having  vis- 
ited Blarney  Castle  and  kissed  the  stone, 
he  had  a  great  deal  to  say,  but  found  his 
feelings  too  much  excited  to  admit  of  his 
saying  much.  Father  Mathew,  after  having 
had  his  health  proposed,  made  a  short  and 
feeling  address,  appropriately  conveying 
to  the  people  of  America,  the  expressions 
of  deep  and  heartfelt  thankfulness,  "more 
for  the  sentiment  of  remembrance  than 
for  the  intrinsic  value  of  the  gifts."     The 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


485 


ladies  having  been  presented  to  Captain 
Forbes,  that  galhmt  sailor  was  ever  after- 
wards ready  to  vouch  for  the  fact,  that  the 
ladies  of  Cork  do  shake  liands  like  men  ; — 
no  formal  touching  of  the  ends  of  the  fin- 
gers, chilling  the  heart,  but  a  regular 
grip  of  feeling.  It  was  at  this  assembly 
also,  that  the  commander  of  the  James- 
town was  presented  by  some  of  the  city 
artists  with  a  finely  executed  likeness  of 
that  ship,  representing  her  as  she  ap- 
peared just  after  the  Sabrina  had  cast  off 
the  tow  ropes,  and  a  few  moments  before 
the  anchor  was  drojiped  at  the  government 
dock-yard.  From  the  ladies,  too,  Captain 
Forbes  was  the  recipient  of  numerous 
poetical  effusions  laudatory  of  the  James- 
town's humane  mission,  and  they  presented 
bim  with  some  choice  specimens  of  their 
handywork,  to  carry  as  souvenirs  to  his 
home.  On  AVednesday,  the  twenty-first 
of  April, — twenty-four  days  after  leaving 
Boston, — the  cargo  was  out  and  the  ship 
ready  for  sea.  On  that  day,  Captain 
Forbes  was  "  at  home  "  to  the  ladies  and 
gentlemen  of  Cork  and  Cove,  by  special 
invitation,  from  twelve  to  three.  The 
company  assembled,  in  large  numbers,  and 
an.  entertainment,  sui  generis,  was  pro- 
vided by  the  host.  Knowing  that  it 
'would  be  impossible  for  him  to  give  such 
a  multitude  a  feast,  and,  indeed,  not  de- 
siring to  do  so  in  a  time  of  famine.  Cap- 
tain Forbes  nevertheless  determined  to 
give  them  something  appropriate,  and 
accordingly  displayed  on  the  table  a  barrel 
of  best  American  bread,  in  the  cask,  flanked 
on  each  side  by  a  huge  piece  of  Fresh 
Pond  ice, — which  latter  the  host  declared 
was  manufactured  expressly  for  the  occa- 
sion on  the  twenty-fifth  of  March.  These 
principal  ingredients  were  helped  out  with 
a  plenty  of  ice  water,  iced  lemonade,  with 
a  little  sprinkling  of  champagne  and 
bread  (baked  on  board  but  rivaling  the 
b)est),  to  say  nothing  of  a  box  of  Boston 
gingerbread,  which  the  ladies  partook  of 
sparingly,  but  carried  away  with  them  in 
dainty  bits,  to  show  at  home  what  could 
be  done  in  Yankee  land.  The  temperance 
band  played   some  of  their  choicest    airs, 


and,  previous  to  breaking  np,  the  ladies, 
with  their  red-coated  and  blue-coated  part- 
ners, sported  the  light  fantastic  toe,  on  the 
spotless  decks  of  the  noble  ship. 

Among  the  deputations  from  the  dif- 
ferent municipalities  received  by  Captain 
Forbes,  was  a  special  one  from  the  citizens 
of  Cork,  who  delivered  to  him  a  banner 
for  presentation  to  the  city  of  Boston. 
This  was  accompanied  by  an  address 
couched  in  the  most  appropriate  language 
of  personal  and  public  gratitude.  Indeed, 
the  praises  of  free,  happy,  generous 
America,  were   sounded  by  every  tongue. 

The  arrangements  made  by  Captain 
Forbes  for  the  distribution  of  the  cargo 
were  with  a  committee  of  gentlemen  of 
the  very  highest  character  and  represent- 
ing all  shades  of  politics  and  all  creeds  in 
religion,  thus  guaranteeing  that  the  seed 
would  be  sown  to  good  account  both  in  the 
hearts  and  stomachs  of  the  poor  Irish,  as 
well  as  in  the  remembrance  of  the  better- 
off  classes.  That  the  necessities  of  Ire- 
land at  this  time  were  not  at  all  exagger- 
ated by  the  cry  and  wassail  that  went 
forth  from  her  bosom,  into  the  ears  of 
the  civilized  world,  Captain  Forbes  fully 
affirms  from  his  personal  routine  of  ob- 
servation. He  states  that,  in  company 
with  Father  Mathew,  he  went,  on  a  cer- 
tain day,  only  a  few  steps  out  of  one  of 
the  principal  streets  of  Cork,  into  a  lane  ; 
it  was  more  than  the  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death, — it  was  the  valley  of  death  and 
pestilence  itself.  Enough  was  to  be  seen 
in  five  minutes  to  appall  the  stoutest 
heart — hovels  crowded  with  the  sick  and 
dying,  without  floors,  Avithout  furniture, 
and  with  beds  of  dirty  straw  covered  with 
still  more  filthy  shreds  and  patches  of 
humanity  ;  some  called  for  water  to  Father 
Mathew,  and  others  for  a  dying  blessing. 
From  this  very  small  sample  of  the  pre- 
vailing destitution,  the  visitors  proceeded 
to  a  public  soup  kitchen,  under  a  shed, 
guarded  by  police  officers ;  here  a  large 
boiler  containing  rice,  meal,  and  so  forth, 
was  at  work,  while  hundreds  of  specters 
stood  without,  begging  for  some  of  this 
soup,  which  Captain  Forbes  did  not  hesi- 


486 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


tate  afterwards  to  declare  would  be  refused 
by  well-bred  pigs  in  his  own  country  I 

With  reference  to  the  last  observation, 
however,  it  ma\'  be  remarked  that  it  was 
made  with  not  the  least  disrespect  to  the 
benevolent  who  provided  the  means  and 
who  ordered  the  ingredients.  Indeed,  the 
demand  for  immediate  relief  was  so  great, 
that,  if  the  starving  could  be  kept  alive, 
it  was  all  that  could  be  expected.  The 
energies  of  the  poor  had  become  so 
cramped  and  deadened  by  want  and  suf- 
fering of  every  type,  that  they  cared  only 
for  sustenance,  and  they  were  unable  to 
earn  it ;  crowds  flocked  in  from  the  coun- 
try to  the  city,  and  the  hospitals  and  jails 
and  poor-houses  were  full  to  overflowing, 
the  numbers  that  died  daily  simply  mak- 
ing room  for  those  who  were  soon  also  to 
die.  Every  corner  of  the  streets  was  filled 
with  pale,  care-worn  creatures,  the  weak 
leading  and  supporting  the  weaker,  women 
assailing  the  passer-by  at  every  turn,  with 
famished  babes,  imploring  alms — and  woe 
to  the  man  who  gave  to  them !  Captain 
Forbes  himself  tried  it !  He  gave  six- 
pences, with  which  to  the  extent  of  a  pound 
sterling  he  had  provided  himself;  occa- 
sionally, as  pursued  with  Father  Mathew 
in  company,  he  cast  a  sixpence  back  to  the 
crowd,  and  like  the  traveler  who  was  pur- 
sued by  hungry  wolves,  and  who  threw 
out  a  little  something  to  distract  their 
attention,  the  captain  passed  on  at  a 
quicker  pace  until  protection  could  be 
found  from  the  heart-rending  appeals  of 
the  poor  creatures,  by  going  into  a  store 
and  finally  escaping  by  the  back  door; 
they,  however,  finding  the  man  who  thus 
had  silver  to  give,  unearthed,  renewed  the 
pursuit,  and  lie  finally  took  shelter  on 
board  a  steamer. 

At  half-past  three,  of  the  afternoon 
of  April  twenty-second,  the  Jamestown 
started  from  Cork,  in  tow  of  her  majesty's 
steamer    Zephyr,    on  her  return    voyage, 


which  she  accomplished  by  the  fifteenth 
of  May,  after  an  absence  of  seven  weeks 
and  one  hour  from  the  navy  yard,  during- 
which  time  there  were  resting  upon  her 
the  best  wishes  and  prayers  of  millions, — 
and  it  seemed  as  if  heaven  particularly 
smiled  upon  the  noble  vessel,  in  her 
speedy  passage  out  and  her  safe  return. 
The  mission  must  always  be  regarded  as 
one  of  the  grandest  events  in  the  history 
of  nations, — one  of  the  noblest  charities 
on  record.  In  token  of  their  gratitude 
and  esteem,  the  people  of  Cork  and  its 
vicinity  presented  to  Captain  Forbes  a 
large  and  massy  salver  of  solid  silver, 
measuring  thirty  inches  in  length  by 
twenty  in  breadth,  a  rich  and  most  beauti- 
ful piece  of  workmanship,  valued  at  nearly 
one  thousand  dollars,  and  inscribed  as 
follows  :  '  Presented  to  Robert  Bennett 
Forbes,  Esq.,  of  Boston,  United  States, 
by  the  Inhabitants  of  the  County  and 
City  of  Cork,  Ireland,  in  acknowledgment 
of  his  philanthropic  mission  to  their 
countrj^,  and  successful  exertions  for  the 
relief  of  their  suffering  fellow  country- 
men during  the  fearful  famine  of  1846-7, 
Avhen,  mainly  through  the  instrumen- 
tality of  Captain  Forbes,  large  supplies 
of  food,  the  voluntary  contributions  of 
the  inhabitants  of  the  United  States, 
more  particularly  of  New  England,  were 
carried  to  Ireland  in  the  United  States 
ships-of-war  Jamestown  and  Macedonian 
(the  former  granted  to  him  personally  by 
the  American  Government,  although  en- 
gaged in  a  Mexican  war),  the  Reliance 
and  Tartar,  and  distributed  amongst  a 
starving  and  grateful  people.'  Accom- 
panying this  magnificent  j^iece  of  plate, 
was  a  Memorial  Address,  inclosed  in  a 
splendidly  ornamental  frame,  representing 
the  Irish  Harp,  and  surmounted  by  the 
American  Eagle,  the  Irish  and  American 
Flags,  and  a  figure  of  the  Jamestown,  all 
ajjpropriately  grouped. 


LVI. 

GENERAL    SCOTT    IN    THE    HALLS    OF    THE    MONTEZU- 
MAS,    AS    THE    CONQUEROR    OF    MEXICO.— 184T. 


General  Taylor's  Unbroken  Series  of  Victorious  Battles,  from  Palo  Alto  to  Buena  Vista. — Flight  of 
Santa  Anna  in  tlie  Dead  of  Midnight. — The  Stars  and  Stripes  Float  Triumphantly  from  the  Towers 
of  the  National  Palace. — First  Foreign  Capital  Ever  Occupied  by  the  United  States  Army. — Peace 
on  the  Invaders'  Own  Terms. — Original  Irritation  between  the  Two  Powers. — Disputed  Points  of 
Boundary. — Mexico  Refuses  to  Yield. — General  Taylor  Sent  to  the  Rio  Grande. — A  Speedy  Collision. 
— Declaration  of  War  by  Congress. — Santa  Anna  Leads  the  Mexicans. — Battles  of  Palo  Alto  and 
Resaca  de  la  Palma. — Raging  Fight  at  Monterey  :  Its  Fall. — Santa  Anna's  Warlike  Summons — It  is 
Treated  with  Contempt. — His  Awful  Defeat  at  Buena  Vista. — Doniphan's  March  of  Five  Thousand 
Miles. — Vera  Cruz,  Cerro  Gordo,  Contreras,  Churubusco,  etc  — Scott's  Order,  "  On  to  Mexico  ! " — 
Huzzas  and  a  Quickstep.— Terrific  Storming  of  Chapultepec. — Scott  Holds  the  Key  to  Mexico. — 
The  Last  Obstacle  Overcome. — Grand  Entrance  of  the  Victors. — Territorial  Gain  to  the  United  States. 


"Under  the  favor  of  God,  the  valor  of  this  army,  after  many  glorious  victories,  haa  hoisted  the  flag  of  our  country  in  the  Capital  of  Mei- 
fco,  and  on  the  Palace  of  ita  Oovernment."— General  Scott  to  his  Army,  September  14th. 


^^f^€^^^=^ 


^^■^"^ 


V 


HIEFLY,  if  not  solel}^,  owing 
to   the  annexation  of  Texas 
to  tlie  United  States,  war  broke  ovit  between 
this  country  and  Mexico,  in  1846,  under  proc- 
lamation by  President  Polk,  in  pursuance  of  formal  declar- 
ation of  hostilities  in  May  of  that   3'ear,  promulgated  by 
congress.     Claiming  Texas  as  a  portion  of  its  own  domain, 
Mexico  had  sturdily  resisted  its  separation  from  her  con- 
trol, either  as  an  independent  i)ower,  or  as  a  portion  of  the 
United  States.     But,   being  forced,  finally,  to   yield   these   points, 
fresh  troubles  soon  succeeded,  arising  from  the  disputed  question  of  '  \ '^ 
boundary.     Mexico  claimed  to  the  Neuces,  and  the  United  States  '"^ 
to  the  Pio  Grande  del  Norte.     Santa  Anna,  then  at  the  head  oi'-.Q^ 
Mexican   affairs,    insisted    on    the   vigorous   assertion   of    Mexico's  ^/>^p«"-j  '':^»,*». 


488 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


claims,  and  military  force  was  brought  into 
requisition  to  this  end.  It  was  this  pro- 
ceeding, as  alleged,  that  induced  counter 
military  movements  on  the  part  of  the 
United  States,  under  the  lead  of  General 
Taylor,  and  in  a  short  time  collision  and 
open  war  followed,  the  belligerents  putting 
their  best  armies  and  officers  into  the  field, 
the  contest  finally  culminating  in  the  occu- 
pancy of  the  Mexican  capital  by  a  victori- 
ous army  under  General  Scott,  and  in  the 
signing  of  a  treaty  by  which  the  United 
States  came  into  possession — for  a  mere 
nominal  pecuniary  equivalent  —  of  the 
whole  of  Texas,  New  Mexico,  and  Uj)per 
California. 

The  principal  battles  and  other  military 
movements  which  rendered  this  conflict 
memorable,  were  the  siege  of  Fort  Brown, 


^C   U^c>--^/^ 


the  battles  of  Palo  Alto  and  Resaca  de  la 
Palma,  the  fall  of  Monterey,  the  battle  of 
Buena  Vista,  Doniphan's  expedition  to 
Chihuahua  and  march  of  five  thousand 
miles,  the  reduction  of  Vera  Cruz,  the  bat- 
tles of  Cerro  Gordo,  Contreras,  and  Chu- 
rubusco,  the  storming  of  Chapultepec,  and 
the  entrance  of  Scott  into  the  halls  of 
the  Montezumas,  as  the  conqueror  of  the 
enemy's  chief  city, — the  first  instance  of  a 
foreign  capital  being  entered  by  the  army 
of  the  United  States.  The  latter  event, 
and  the  battle  of  Buona  Vista,  formed  the 
most  important  movements  during  the 
campaign,  and  have  earned  a  conspicuous 


place — as  have  also  their  heroes,  Taylor, 
and  Scott, — in  American  militar}^  history. 
It  was  on  the  twenty-second  of  February, 
1847,  that  Taylor  made  those  final  dispo- 
sitions of  his  troops  that  ended  in  the  fa- 
mous victory  of  Buena  Vista,  and  which, 
in  the  brief  lapse  of  three  years  thereafter, 
carried  the  victor  to  the  presidential  chair, 
as  chief  magistrate  of  the  United  States. 

The  first  evidence  directly  afforded  the 
United  States  troops  of  the  presence  of 
Santa  Anna,  was  a  white  flag,  dimly  seen 
fluttering  in  the  breeze,  and  which  proved, 
on  the  arrival  of  its  bearer,  to  be  what  the 
Americans  ironically  termed  a  benevolent 
missive   from    Santa   Anna,  proposing    to 
General  Taylor  terms  of  unconditional  sur- 
render ;   promising  good  treatment ;    stat- 
ing  that   his   force    amounted   to  twenty 
thousand  men  ;  that  the  defeat  of  the 
invaders  was  inevitable,  and  that,  to 
spare  the  effusion  of  blood,  his  propo- 
sition should  be  complied  with. 

But,  strange  to  say,  the  American 
general  showed  the  greatest  ingrati- 
tude ;  evinced  no  appreciation  what- 
ever of  Santa  Anna's  kindness,  and 
informed    him,    substantially,    that 
whether  his  force  amounted  to  twenty 
thousand  or  fifty   thousand,  it   was 
equallj^  a  matter  of  indifference — the 
terms   of   adjustment    must   be  ar- 
ranged by  gunpowder .    Santa  Anna's 
rage  at  this  response  to  his  conceited 
summons  was  at  the  boiling  point. 
Skirmishing  continued  until  night- 
fall, and  was  renewed  at  an  earlj^  hour  the 
next  morning,  the  struggle  deepening  in  in- 
tensity as  the  day  advanced,  until  the  battle 
raged  with  great  fury  along  the  entire  line. 
After  various  successes  and  reverses,  the 
fortunes  of  the  day  showed  on  the  side  of 
the    Americans.       Santa    Anna   saw   the 
crisis,  and  true  to  his  instincts,  sought  to 
avert  the  result  by  craft  and  cunning.     He 
sent  a   white   flag   to   General   Taylor,  in- 
quiring, in  substance,  "what  he  wanted." 
This   was  at  once  believed  to  be  a  mere 
ruse  to  gain  time  and  re-collect  his  men ; 
but  the  American  general   thought  fit  to 
notice  it,  and  General  Wool  was  deputed 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


489 


to  meet  the  representative  of  Santa  Anna, 
and  to  say  to  liim  that  what  was  "  wanted  " 
was  peace.  Before  the  interview  could  be 
had,  tlie  Mexicans  treacherously  re-opened 
their  fires.     The  flag,  however,  had  accom- 


I 


Ji'  plished  the  ends  which  its  wily  originator 
designed — a  re-enforcement  of  his  cavalry 
during  the  parley, — and,  with  his  courage 
thus  restored,  he  determined  to  charge 
Taylor's  line.  Under  cover  of  their  artil- 
lery, horse  and  foot  advanced  ixpon  the 
American  batteries,  the  latter,  against  all 
disadvantages,  nobly  maintaining  their  po- 
sitions, by  the  most  brilliant  and  daring 
efforts.  Such  was  the  rapidity  of  their 
transitions  that  officers  and  pieces  seemed 
empowered  with  ubiquity,  and  upon  cav- 
alry and  infantry  alike,  wherever  they 
appeared,  they  poured  so  destructive  a  fire 
as  to  silence  the  enemy's  artillery,  compel 
his  whole  line  to  fall  back,  and  soon  to 
assume  a  sort  of  subdued  movement,  indi- 
cating anything  but  victory. 

Again,  the  spirits  of  Taylor's  troops  rose 
high.  The  Mexicans  appeared  thoroughly 
routed;  and  while  their  regiments  and 
divisions  were  flying  in  dismay,  nearly  all 
the  American  light  troops  were  ordered 
forward,  and  followed  them  with  a  most 
terrible  fire,  mingled  with  shouts  which 
rose  above  the  roar  of  artillery.  The  pur- 
suit, however,  was  too  hot,  and,  as  it 
evinced,  too  clearly,  the  smallness  of  the 
pursuing  force,  the  Mexicans,  with  a  sud- 


denness which  was  almost  magical,  rallied, 
and  turned  back  with  furious  onset.  They 
came  in  myriads,  and  for  a  while  the  car- 
nage was  dreadful  on  both  sides,  though 
there  was  but  a  handful  to  oppose  to  the 
frightful  masses  so  rapidly  hurled  into  the 
combat,  and  which  could  no  more  be  re- 
sisted than  could  an  avalanche  of  thunder- 
bolts. "  All  is  lost  /  "  was  the  cry — or  at 
least  the  thought — of  many  a  brave  Amer- 
ican, at  this  crisis. 

Thrice  during  the  day,  when  all  seemed 
lost  but  honor,  did  the  artillery,  by  the 
ability  with  which  it  was  maneuvered,  roll 
back  the  tide  of  success  from  the  enemy, 
and  give  such  overwhelming  destructive- 
ness  to  its  effect,  that  the  army  was  saved 
and  the  glory  of  the  American  arms  main- 
tained. 

The  battle  had  now  raged  with  variable 
success  for  nearly  ten  hours,  and,  by  a  sort 
of  mutual  consent,  after  the  last  carnage 
wrought  among  the  Mexicans  bj^  the  artil- 
lery, both  parties  seemed  willing  to  pause 
upon  the  result.  Night  fell.  Santa  Anna 
had  been  repulsed  at  all  points  ;  and  ere 
the  sun  rose  again  upon  the  scene,  the 
Mexicans  had  disappeared,  leaving  behind 
them  only  the  hundreds  of  their  dead  and 
dying,  whose  bones  w^ere  to  whiten  their 
native  hills.  The  loss  w-as  great  on  both 
sides,  in  this  long,  desperate,  and  sanguin- 
ary conflict,  the  force  of  the  Mexicans  be- 
ing as  five  to  one  of  the  Americans. 

Santa  Anna  was  bold  and  persevering, 
and  turned  Taylor's  left  flank  by  the 
mountain  paths  with  a  large  force,  when 
all  seemed  to  be  lost.  But  the  light  artil- 
lery and  the  mounted  men  saved  the  day. 
Throughout  the  action  General  Taylor  was 
where  shots  fell  hottest  and  thickest,  two 
of  which  passed  through  his  clothes.  He 
constantly  evinced  the  greatest  quickness 
of  perception,  fertility  of  resource,  and  a 
cool,  unerring  judgment  not  to  be  baftled. 

One  of  the  bravest  deeds  of  this  struggle 
was  that  performed  by  Major  Dix,  who, 
when  the  air  was  rent  with  shouts  of 
triumph  from  the  enemy,  over  the  inglori- 
ous flight  of  an  Indiana  regiment,  dashed 
off  in  pursuit  of  the  deserters,  and  seizing 


490 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  colors  of  the  regiment  as  he  reached 
them,  appealed  to  the  men  to  know 
whether  they  had  determined  thus  to  turn 
their  backs  upon  their  country !  He  was 
answered  by  three  cheers.  A  portion  of 
the  regiment  immediately  rallied  around 
him,  and  was  reformed  by  the  officers. 
Dix,  in  person,  then  led  them  towards  the 
enemy,  until  one  of  the  men  volunteered 
to  take  the  flag. 

Admiration  and  honor  were  showered 
upon  Taylor,  who  had  thus,  with  his  little 
army  of  between  four  and  five  thousand 
men,  met  and  completely  vanquished 
Santa  Anna,  the  greatest  of  Mexican  sol- 


diers, with  his  army  of  twenty  thousand. 
It  was  a  contest  which,  with  his  other  vic- 
torious battles  at  Palo  Alto,  Resaca  de  la 
Palma,  and  Monterey,  covered  the  hitherto 
almost  unknown  name  of  Taylor  with  a 
halo  of  glory  from  one  end  of  the  land  to 
the  other;  gave  immense  prestige  to 
American  arms ;  and  created,  perhaps  too 
largely,  the  feeling  that  the  conquering 
party  might  now  go  on  and  overrun  the 
country,  and  dictate  its  own  terms  of  peace. 
Put  there  were  strong  positions  yet  to  be 
mastered,  and  gory  fields  yet  to  be  won, 
before  that  most  of  all  coveted  achieve- 
ment— the  capture  and  occupation  of  the 
Mexican   cajjital — was   to  crown   the   suc- 


cesses of  the  invaders  and  prove  that  the 
enemy's  country  was  at  their  mercy. 

As  events  proved,  the  last  named  great 
act  in   this   military  drama  was  reserved 
for  General  Scott,  who  had  been  appointed 
by    the    government    at   Washington,   su- 
preme commander  of  the  army  in  Mexico. 
Taylor  had  led   the  way,  by  his  splendid 
movements   and  victories,  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  all  that  yet  remained  to  be 
done.     Vera  Cruz,  the  key  to  the  Mexican 
capital,  with  the  almost  impregnable  fort- 
ress of  San  Juan  de  Ulloa,  soon  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  Americans,  after  a  terri- 
bly destructive  cannonade.     A  similar  fate 
befell  nearly  all  the  principal  ports. 
Again  was  Santa  Anna  defeated  on 
the    embattled    heights   of    Cerro 
Gordo,  in  which  tremendous  strong- 
hold he  had  attempted  with  fifteen 
thousand  men,  but  in  vain,  to  op- 
pose Scott,  who  had  only  six  thou- 
sand.    To  this  succeeded  the  battle 
of  Contreras,  in  which  the  Mexi- 
cans, led  by  General  Valencia,  who 
had  an  army  of  some  eight  thou- 
sand,   were    routed    with    terrible 
slaughter,  by   Gen.   P.   P.   Smith. 
In  a  few  months  from  this  time^ 
the  plains  of  Churubusco  witnessed 
another  battle,  the  deadly  carnage 
and   mortal   results   of   which,   no 
pen  could  adequately  portray,  the 
Americans    taking    possession    of 
every  point,  as  triumphant  victors. 
The  prize  was  not  yet  won,  but  orders 
were  in  due  time  given  by  General  Scott 
to  march  to  the  capital.     Deafening  cheers 
and  a  quickstep)  greet ed  this  order,  on  its 
promulgation.     Two    strong    positions  of 
the  enemy  .vere,  however,  yet  to  be  over- 
come, namely,  that  of  Molino  del  Re^-,  and 
the  strong  castle  of  Cliapultepec,  before 
the    city    could    be    reached.       The    first- 
named  was  captured  by  General  Worth, 
after  a  most   bloody   fight,   and   with  the 
loss  of  nearly  one-fourth   of  his  men,  the 
latter  having  at  last  found  it  necessar}^  to 
burst  open  an  entrance,  and  with  the  bay- 
onet to  meet  the  enemy  hand  to  hand. 
New  and  more  terrible  struggles  were 


cu 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


491 


soon  to  take  place.  On  the  eleventh  of 
September,  the  cavalry  were  ordered  to 
make  a  movement  on  the  sloping  plains 
above  Chapultepec  and  Tacubaya,  and 
attack,  if  possible,  the  latter  place.  How- 
ever, the  enemy  kept  a  diligent  look-out, 
and  no  sooner  did  the  cavalry  begin  to 
move  out  of  town  than  their  scouts  ap- 
peared upon  the  spot,  and,  soon  aftei',  a 
small  force  appeared  to  dispute  the  ap- 
proach. 

On  the  twelfth,  the  cannon  began  to 
roar  again,  south  and  west,  at  the  garita 
of  San  Antonio  and  Chapultepec,  but  it 
soon  became  evident  to  them  Avhere  the 
real  attack  was  intended,  for  on  the  south 
side   the   fire    was  slackened,  and  after  a 


time  it  left  off  altogether — while,  on  the 
west  it  grew  more  and  more  violent,  until, 
at  about  eight  o'clock,  the  Americans 
opened  their  battery  of  mortars  upon  the 
castle,  and  began  to  throw  shell  with  terri- 
ble precision. 

General  Pillow's  approach,  on  the  west 
side,  lay  through  an  open  grove,  filled  with 
sharpshooters,  who  were  speedily  dis- 
lodged ;  when,  being  up  with  the  front  of 
the  attack,  and  emerging  into  open  space, 
at  the  foot  of  a  rocky  acclivity,  that  gal- 
lant leader  was  struck  down  by  an  agoniz- 
ing wound.  The  broken  acclivity  was  still 
to  be  ascended,  and  a  strong  redoubt, 
midway,  to  be  carried,  before  reaching  the 
castle  on  the  heights.     The  advance  of  the 


brave  men,  led  by  brave  officers,  though 
necessarily  slow,  was  unwavering,  over 
rocks,  chasms,  and  mines,  and  under  the 
hottest  fire  of  cannon  and  musketry.  The 
redoubt  now  yielded  to  resistless  valor. 

Shout  after  shout  rung  wildly  through 
the  victorious  ranks  of  the  assailants, 
announcing  to  the  castle  the  fate  that 
impended.  The  Mexicans  were  steadily 
driven  from  shelter  to  shelter.  The  re- 
treat allowed  no  time  to  fire  a  single  mine, 
without  the  certainty  of  blowing  up  friend 
and  foe.  Those  who,  at  a  distance,  at- 
tempted to  apply  matches  to  the  long 
trains,  were  shot  down  by  the  Americans. 
There  was  death  below  as  well  as  above 
ground.  At  length  the  ditch  and  wall  of 
the  main  work  were  reached,  and  the 
scaling-ladders  were  brought  up  and 
planted  by  the  storming  parties.  Some  of 
the  daring  spirits  in  the  assault  were  cast 
down,  killed  or  wounded ;  but  a  lodgment 
was  soon  made,  streams  of  heroes  followed, 
all  opposition  was  overcome,  and  several  of 
the  regimental  colors  were  flung  out  from 
the  upper  walls,  amid  long  continued 
shouts  and  cheers.  All  this  sent  dismay 
into  the  capital.  To  the  Americans,  no 
scene  could  have  been  more  animating  or 
glorious. 

General  Quitman  performed  a  distin- 
gu-ished  part  in  these  movements,  nobly 
sustained  by  his  officers  and  men. 
Simultaneously  with  the  movement  on 
the  west,  he  gallantly  approached  the 
south-east  of  the  same  works  over  a  cause- 
way with  cuts  and  batteries,  and  defended 
by  an  army  strongly  posted  outside,  to  the 
east  of  the  works.  These  formidable 
obstacles  had  to  be  faced,  with  but  little 
shelter  for  troops  or  space  for  maneuvering. 
Deep  ditches,  flanking  the  causeway, 
made  it  difficult  to  cross  on  either  side  into 
the  adjoining  meadows ;  and  these,  again, 
were  intersected  by  other  ditches.  The 
storming  party,  however,  carried  two 
batteries  that  were  in  the  road,  took  some 
guns,  with  many  prisoners,  and  drove  the 
enemy  posted  behind  in  support ;  they 
then  crossed  the  meadows  in  front,  under 
'  a  heavy     fire,     and    entered     the    outer 


492 


OUB  FIRST  CENTUKY.-1776-1876. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


493 


inclosure  of  Chapultepec  just  in  time  to 
join  in  the  final  assault  from  the  west. 
Captain  Barnard,  of  the  voltgeur  regiment, 
was  the  first  to  plant  a  regimental  color. 

During  the  period  covered  by  these 
exciting  scenes,  the  firing  in  and  about 
the  castle  had  three  times  apparently 
reached  its  crisis  or  climax,  and  then 
suddenly  slackened,  inducing  the  belief  in 
some  quarters  that  the  assault  had  been 
beaten  off;  but,  at  about  half-past  nine 
o'clock  the  Mexican  flag  suddenly  disap- 
peared, a  blue  flag  was  shown,  and  directly 
after  the  stars  and  stripes  arose  and  waved 
over  the  conquered  fortress.  Immediately 
after  having  taken  the  place,  the  Americans 
hauled  down  the  light  field-pieces  from  the 
castle,  and  fired  them  upon  the  retreating 
eneni}^,  upon  whose  heels  they  closely 
followed.  The  firing  came  nearer,  and  at 
about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the 
innermost  intrenchments  began  to  open 
their  fire,  and  balls  to  whistle  in  the  town. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  forces  of 
Worth  and  Quitman — the  former  proceed- 
ing by  the  San  Cosme  aqueduct,  and  the 
latter  along  that  of  Belen.  Scott  joined 
the  advance  of  Worth,  within  the  suburb, 
and  beyond  the  turn  at  the  junction  of  the 
aqueduct  with  the  great  highway  from  the 
west  to  the  gate  of  San  Cosme.  In  a  short 
time,  the  troops  were  engaged  in  a  street 
fight  against  the  Mexicans  posted  in 
gardens,  at  windows,  and  on  housetops — 
all  flat,  with  parapets.  Worth  ordered 
forward  the  mountain  howitzers  of 
Cadwallader's  brigade,  preceded  by  skir- 
mishers and  pioneers,  with  pickaxes  and 
crowbars,  to  force  windows  and  doors,  or 
to  burrow  through  walls.  The  assailants 
were  soon  in  unequality  of  position  fatal 
to  the  enemy.  By  eight  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  Worth  had  carried  two  batteries 
in  this  suburb.  There  was  but  one  more 
obstacle,  the  San  Cosme  gate  (custom- 
house), between  him  and  the  great  square 
in  front  of  the  cathedral  and  palace — the 


heart  of  the  city.  There  was  a  lull  in  the 
firing,  and  already  the  inhabitants  were 
hoping  to  pass  a  quiet  night,  when 
suddenly  the  dull  roar  of  a  heavy  mortar 
resounded  close  by  the  town,  and  shells 
with  fiery  tails  came  with  portentous 
energy.  The  gallant  Quitman  pressed  on, 
regardless  of  gates,  batteries,  or  citadels, 
and  compelled  Santa  Anna  to  break  up  in 
the  middle  of  the  night  and  retreat  tvith 
all  his  force,  leaving  the  city  to  the  mercy 
of  the  victors.  He  turned  northward  to 
the  villa  of  Gaudaloupe,  and  after  a  short 
rest  retreated  on  to  San  Juan  de 
Teotihuacan. 

On  Tuesday  morning,  September  four- 
teenth, 1847,  the  first  American  column 
made  its  appearance  in  the  streets  of 
Mexico,  and  came  on  in  dense  masses 
through  the  principal  avenues — Calle  San 
Francisco,  del  Correo,  de  la  Professa,  and 
the  two  Plateros,  in  a  straight  line  from 
the  Alameda  up  to  the  palace  and  Plaza- 
Mayor.  The  Mexican  colors  now  disap- 
peared from  the  palace,  a  regimental  flag 
took  their  place,  and  directly  afterwards 
the  stars  and  stripes  were  flung  out  and 
waved  proudly  from  the  Halls  of  the 
Montezumas, — the  first  strange  banner 
that  had  ever  floated  from  that  palace 
since  the  conquest  of  Cortez. 

On  entering  the  palace,  one  of  General 
Scott's  first  acts  was  to  require  from  his 
comrades-in-arms,  their  thanks  and  grat- 
itude to  God,  both  in  public  and  pri- 
vate worship,  for  the  signal  triumphs 
which  they  had  achieved  for  their  coun- 
try ;  warning  them  also  against  disorders, 
straggling,  and  drunkenness. 

Thus  was  the  prowess  of  American  arms 
successfully  asserted,  the  conquered  nation 
being  also  compelled  to  cede  the  immensely 
valuable  territory  of  New  Mexico  and 
Upper  California  to  the  United  States, 
and  accepting  the  lower  Rio  Grande,  from 
its  mouth  to  El  Paso,  as  the  boundary  of 
Texas. 


LVII. 

EXPEDITION  TO   THE   RIVER  JORDAN   AND   THE   DEAD 
SEA,  BY  LIEUT.  W.  F.  LYNCH.— 1847. 


The  Sacred  River  Successfully  Circumnavigated  and  Surveyed. — Twenty  Days  and  Nights  Upon  the 
"  Sea  of  Death." — It  is  E,xplored,  and  Sounded,  and  Its  Mysteries  Solved. — Strange  Phenomena  and 
Unrelieved  Desolation  of  the  Locality. — Important  Results  to  Science. — Zeal  in  Geographical 
Research. — Interest  in  the  Holy  Land. — American  Inquiry  Aroused — Equipment  of  Lynch 's 
Expedition. — On  Its  Way  to  the  Orient. — Anchoring  Under  Mount  Carmel. — Passage  Down 
the  Jordan. — It  is  Traced  to  Its  Source. — Wild  and  Impressive  Scenery. — Rose  Colored 
Clouds  of  Judea. — Configuration  of  the  Dead  Sea. — Dense,  Buoyant,  Briny  Waters. — Smarting  of  the 
Hands  and  Face. — Salt,  Ashes,  and  Sulphureous  Vapors,  etc. — Tradition  Among  the  Arabs. — Sad 
Fate  of  Former  Explorers. — Temperature  of  This  Sea. — Submerged  Plains  at  Its  Bottom. — Sheeted 
with  Phosphorescent  Foam. — Topography,  Width  and  Depth. — "  Apples  of  Sodom  "  Described. — 
The  Pillar  of  Salt,  Lot's  Wife. 


"  But  here,  above,  around,  below, 

In  mountain  or  in  glen. 

Nor  tree,  nor  shrub,  nor  flower. 

Nor  aught  of  vegetative  power, 

The  wearied  eye  may  ken  ; 

But  all  its  rocks  at  random  thrown, — 

Block  waves, — bare  crags, — and  heaps  of  etone." 


'lELDING  to  the  earnest  desire  of  individuals  and  societies  interested  in  the 
advancement  of  geographical  science,  the  United  States  government  lent  its 
sanction  and  co-operative  aid  to  the  expedition  planned  in  1847,  by  Lieutenant 
W.  F.  Lynch,  an  accomplished  naval  officer,  for  the  exploration  and 
survey  of  the  Dead  Sea.  The  results  of  this  expedition,  so  replete 
with  information  of  the  most  important  and  deeply  interesting  chax'ac- 
ter  concerning  a  spot  so  singular  in  its  sacred  and  historic  associations, 
as  well  as  mysterious  in  its  jihysical  peculiarities,  fully  justified  the 
zeal  with  which  it  was  advocated  and  the  high  auspices  under  which  it 
embarked. 

The  names  of  those  whose  services  were  accepted  by  the  commander, 
as  members  of  the  expedition,  and  whose  qualifications  were  believed 
to  fit  them   peculiarly  for  the   undertaking,  were  as  follows:     Lieu- 
tenant,  John    B.    Dale  ;    ])assed-mi(lshipnian,    R.    Aulick ;     herbarist, 
Francis  E.  Lynch  ;  master's  mate,  J.  C.  Thomas ;  navigators,  Messrs. 
Overstock,   William.'?,   Homer,   Read,   Robinson,   Lee,   Lock- 
•^      wood,  Albertson,  Loveland.     At  Constantinople,  Mr.  Henry 
Bedloe  associated  himself  with  the  expedition,  and,  on  their 
arrival  at  Beirut,  Dr.  H.  J.  Anderson  became  a  member  of  the  party,  making  the  num- 
ber sixteen  in  all.     The  services  of  an  intelligent  native  Syrian,  named  Ameung,  were 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


495 


also  obtainod  at  Beirut,  Avho  acted  in  the 
capacity  of  interpreter,  and  rendered  other 
important  aid. 

By  direction  of  the  government  at 
Washington,  the  store-ship  Suj^ply  was 
placed  at  the  disposal  of  Lieutenant  Lynch, 
and,  as  the  vessel  would  otherwise  be  in 
ballast,  she  was  laden  with  stores  for  the 
United  States  naval  squadron,  then  in  the 
Mediterranean. 

The  Supply  sailed  from  New  York, 
November  twenty-first,  and  in  about  three 
months  anchored  off  Smyrna.  From  the 
latter  place,  the  officers  of  the  expedition 
proceeded  to  Constantinople  in  the 
Austrian  steamer,  with  the  view  of  ob- 
taining from  the  Sultan,  through  the 
American  minister,  permission  to  pass 
through  a  part  of  his  dominions  in  Sj^ria, 
for  the  purpose  of  exploring  the  Dead  Sea, 
and  of  tracing  the  Jordan  to  its  source. 
The  reception  by  the  young  sultan  was  in 
all  respects  favorable ;  the  authorization 
was  granted,  and  the  sultan  expressed 
much  interest  in  the  undertaking,  request- 
ing to  be  informed  of  the  results. 

Thus  armed  with  all  necessary  powers, 
the  officers  returned  to  Smyrna,  rejoining 
the  Supply.  On  the  tenth  of  March,  the 
expedition  sailed  for  the  coast  of  Syria, 
and,  after  touching  at  Beirut  and  other 
places,  came  to  anchor  in  the  Bay  of  Acre, 
under  Mount  Carmel,  March  twenty- 
eighth.  The  explorers,  with  their  stores, 
tents,  and  boats,  having  landed,  an  en- 
campment was  formed  on  the  beach, 
and  the  Supply  departed  to  deliver  to  the 
naval  squadron  the  stores  with  which  it 
was  laden,  with  orders  to  be  back  in  time 
for  the  re-embarkation  of  the  exploring 
party. 

The  first  difficulty  of  a  practical  nature 
was  how  to  get  the  boats  across  to  the  Sea 
of  Tiberias.  The  boats,  mounted  on 
trucks,  were  laden  with  the  stores  and 
baggage  of  the  party,  and  all  was  arranged 
most  conveniently — only  the  horses  could 
not  be  persuaded  to  draw.  The  harness 
was  also  found  to  be  much  too  large  for 
the  small  Syrian  horses ;  and  although 
they    manifestly    gloried    in    the    strange 


equipment,  and  voluntarily  performed 
sundry  gay  and  fantastic  movements,  the 
operation  of  pulling  was  altogether  averse 
to  their  habits  and  inclinations.  At  last, 
the  plan  suggested  itself  of  trying  camehs. 
On  being  harnessed,  three  of  the  huge 
animals  to  each  truck,  thej^  marched  ofi 
with  the  trucks,  the  boats  U2)on  them, 
with  perfect  ease,  to  the  great  delight  of 
the  sojourners,  and  equal  astonishment  to 
the  natives. 

All  the  arrangements  being  now 
perfected,  the  travelers  took  their  de- 
parture from  the  coast,  on  the  fourth  of 
April.  Thej^  were  accompanied  by  a  fine 
old  man,  an  Arab  nobleman,  called  Sherif 
Hazza,  of  Mecca,  the  thirty-third  lineal 
descendant  of  the  prophet.  As  he  ap- 
peared to  be  highly  venerated  by  the 
Arabs,  Lieutenant  Lynch  thought  it  would 
be  a  good  measure  to  induce  him  to  join 
the  party,  and  he  was  prevailed  upon  to 
do  so.  Another  addition  to  the  party  was 
made  next  day  in  the  person  of  a  Bedouin 
sheikh  of  the  name  of  Akil,  with  ten  well- 
armed  Arabs,  or  fifteen  Arabs  in  all, 
including  servants. 

But  little  information  concerning  the 
Jordan  could  be  obtained  at  Tiberias,  and 
it  was  therefore  with  considerable  con- 
sternation that  the  course  of  that  river 
was  soon  found  to  be  interrupted  by 
frequent  and  most  fearful  rapids.  Thus, 
to  proceed  at  all,  it  often  became  necessary 
to  plunge  with  headlong  velocity  down  the 
most  appalling  descents.  So  great  were 
the  difficulties,  that,  on  the  second  evening, 
the  boats  were  not  more  than  twelve  miles 
in  direct  distance  from  Tiberias. 

The  banks  of  the  Jordan  were  found 
beautifully  studded  with  vegetation ;  the 
cultivation  of  the  ground,  however,  not  so 
extensive  as  it  might  be,  and  as  it  would 
be,  if  the  crops  were  secured  to  the 
cultivator  from  the  desperadoes  who  scour 
the  region.  The  waters  of  the  Jordan, 
clear  and  transparent  except  in  the  im- 
mediate vicinity  of  the  rapids  and  falls, 
are  well  calculated  for  fertilizing  the 
valleys  of  its  course.  There  are  often 
plenty  of  fish  seen  in  its  deep  and  shady 


496 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


course.  The  wide  and  deeply-depressed 
plain  through  which  the  river  flows,  is 
generally  barren,  treeless,  and  without 
verdure  ;  and  the  mountains,  or  rather, 
the  cliffs  and  slopes  of  the  risen  uplands, 
present,  for  the  most  part,  a  wild  and 
cheerless  aspect.  The  verdure,  such  as  it 
is,  may  only  be  sought  on  and  near  the 
lower  valley  or  immediate  channel  of  the 
Jordan.  No  one  statement  can  apply  to 
the  scenery  of  its  entire  course;  but  this 
description  given  of  the  central  part  of  the 
river's  course,  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the 
kind  of  scenery  which  the  passage  of  the 
river  offers. 

Lieutenant  Lynch  describes  the  charac- 
ter of  the  whole  scene  of  this  dreary 
waste   as  singularly  wild  and  impressive. 


Looking  out  upon  the  desert,  bright  with 
reverberated  light  and  heat,  was,  he  says, 
like  beholding  a  conflagration  from  a 
window  at  twilight.  Each  detail  of  the 
strange  and  solemn  scene  could  be  ex- 
amined as  through  a  lens.  The  moun- 
tains towards  the  west  rose  up  like 
islands  from  the  sea,  with  the  billows 
heaving  at  their  bases.  The  rough  peaks 
caught  the  slanting  sunlight,  while  sharp 
black  shadows  marked  the  sides  turned 
from  the  rays.  Deep  rooted  in  the  plain, 
the  bases  of  the  mountains  heaved  the 
garment  of  the  earth  away,  and  rose 
abruptly  in  naked  pyramidal  crags,  each 
scar  and  fissure  as  palpably  distinct  as 
though  within  reach,  and  yet  were  far 
distant.  Toward  the  south,  the  ridges 
and  higher  masses  of  the  range,  as  they 


swept  away  in  the  distance,  were  aerial  and 
faint,  and  softened  into  dimness  by  a  pale 
transparent  mist.  The  plain  that  sloped 
away  from  the  bases  of  the  hills  was 
broken  into  ridges  and  multitudinous  cone- 
like mounds,  resembling  tumultuous  water 
at  the  meeting  of  two  adverse  tides,  and 
presented  a  wild  and  checkered  tract  of 
land,  with  spots  of  vegetation  flourishing 
upon  the  frontiers  of  irreclaimable  sterility. 
A  low,  pale,  and  yellow  ridge  of  conical 
hills  marks  the  termination  of  the  higlier 
terrace,  beneath  which  sweeps  gently  this 
lower  plain  with  a  similar  undulating 
surface,  half  redeemed  from  barrenness  by 
sparse  verdure  and  thistle-covered  hillocks. 
Still  lower  was  the  valley  of  the  Jordan — 
the  sacred  river ! — its  banks  fringed  with 
perpetual  verdure  ;  winding  in  a  thousand 
graceful  mazes ;  the  pathway  cheered 
with  songs  of  birds,  and  its  own  clear 
voice  of  gushing  minstrelsy  ;  its  course  a 
bright  line  in  this  cheerless  waste. 

Concerning  an  earlier  portion  of  the 
river's  course,  about  one-third  from  the 
lake  of  Tiberias,  Lieutenant  L3-nch  says, 
that,  for  hours  in  their  swift  descent  the 
boats  floated  down  in  silence — the  silence 
of  the  wilderness.  Here  and  there  were 
spots  of  solemn  beauty.  The  numerous 
birds  sang  with  a  music  strange  and 
manifold ;  the  willow  branches  were 
spread  upon  the  stream  like  tresses,  and 
creeping  mosses  and  clambering  weeds, 
with  a  multitude  of  white  and  silvery  little 
flowers,  looked  out  from  among  them  ;  and 
the  cliff  swallow  wheeled  over  the  falls,  or 
went  at  his  own  will,  darting  through  the 
arched  vistas,  and  shadowed  and  shaped 
by  the  meeting  foliage  on  the  banks. 
There  Avas  but  little  variet}'-  in  the  scenery 
of  the  river;  the  streams  sometimes 
washed  the  bases  of  the  sand}'  hills,  at 
other  times  meandered  between  low  banks, 
generally  fringed  with  trees  and  fragrant 
with  blossoms.  Some  points  presented 
views  exceedingl}''  picturesque.  The 
western  shore  is  peculiar  from  the  high 
calcarious  limestone  hills  which  form  a 
barrier  to  the  stream  when  swollen  by  the 
efflux  of  the   Sea  of  Galilee,  during  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


497 


winter  and  early  spring  ;  -wliile  tlie  loft 
and  eastern  bank  is  low  and  fringed  with 
tamarisk  and  willow,  and  oceasionally  a 
thicket  of  lofty  cane,  and  tangled  masses 
of  shrubs  and  creeping  plants,  gave  it  the 
appearance  of  a  jungle. 

No  loss  than  twenty-two  nights  were 
spent  by  the  party  upon  the  lake.  During 
this  time  the  whole  circuit  of  it  was  made, 
including  the  back-water  at  the  southern 
extremity,  Avhich  had  never  before  been 
explored  in  boats.  Every  object  of  in- 
terest upon  the  banks  was  examined : 
and  the  lake  was  crossed  and  recrossed  in 
a  zigzag  direction  through  its  whole 
extent,  for  the  purpose  of  sounding.  The 
figure  of  the  lake,  as  sketched  by  tbe 
party,  is  somewhat  different  from  that 
usually  given  to  it.  The  breadth  is  more 
uniform  throughout ;  it  is  less  narrowed 
at  the  northern  extremity,  and  less 
widened  on  approaching  the  peninsula  in 
the  south.  In  its  general  dimensions  it 
is  longer,  but  is  not  so  wide  as  usually 
represented.  Its  length  by  the  map  is 
forty  miles,  by  an  average  breadth  of 
about  nine  miles.  The  water,  a  nauseous 
compound  of  bitters  and  salts. 


A  fresh  north  wind  was  blowing  as  they 
rounded  the  ])oint.  They  endeavored  to 
steer  a  little  to  the  north  of  west,  to  make 
a  true  west  course,  and  threw  the  patent 
log  overboard  to  measure  the  distance ; 
but  the  wind  rose  so  rapidly  that  the 
boats  could  not  keep  head  to  wind,  and  it 
became  necessary  to  haul  the  log  in.  The 
sea  continued  to  rise  with  the  increasing 
wind,  which  gradually  freshened  to  a 
gale,  and  presented  an  agitated  surface  of 
foaming  brine ;  the  spra}^,  evaporating  as 
it  fell,  left  incrustations  of  salt  upon  the 
voyagers'  clothes,  as  also  their  hands  and 
faces  ;  and,  while  it  conveyed  a  prickly 
sensation  wherever  it  touched  the  skin, 
was,  above  all,  exceedingly  painful  to  the 
eyes.  The  boats,  heavily  laden,  struggled 
sluggishly  at  first ;  but  when  the  wind 
increased  in  its  fierceness,  from  the  density 
of  the  water  it  seemed  as  if  their  bows 
were  encountering  the  sledge-hammers  of 
the  Titans,  instead  of  the  opposing  waves 
of  an  angry  sea.  Finally,  such  was  the 
force  of  the  wind,  that  it  was  feared  both 
boats  must  founder.  Knowing  that  they 
were  losing  advantage  every  moment,  and 
that  with  the  lapse  of  each  succeeding  one 


VALLEV  OF  THE  JuUDAN  AND  DEAD  SEA. 


After  giving  a  sketch  of  the  sights  and 
scenes  attending  the  bathing  of  the  pil- 
grims in  the  Jordan,  Lieutenant  Lynch 
says  that  the  river,  where  it  enters  the  sea, 
is  inclined  towards  the  eastern  shore ;  and 
there  is  a  considerable  bay  between  the 
river    and    the    mountains    of    Belka,    in 

Ammon,  on  the  eastern  shore  of  the  sea. 
32 


the  danger  increased,  they  kept  away  for 
the  northern  shore,  in  the  hope  of  being 
yet  able  to  reach  it, — their  arms,  clothes 
and  skin,  coated  with  a  greasy  salt,  and 
their  eyes,  lips  and  nostrils,  smarting  ex- 
cessively. 

But,   although   the  sea   had   assumed    a 
threatening     aspect,     and     the      fretted 


498 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


mountains  loomed  terrific  on  either  side, 
and  salt  and  ashes  mingled  with  its  sands, 
and  fetid  sulphureous  springs  trickled  down 
its  ravines,  the  explorers  did  not  despair. 
Awe  struck,  but  not  terrified,  fearing  the 
worst  yet  hoping  for  the  best,  preparations 
were  made  to  spend  a  dreary  night  upon 
the  dreariest  waste  ever  seen.  There  is  a 
tradition  among   the  Arabs   that  no  one 


the  exact  topography  of  its  shores,  as- 
certained the  temperature,  width,  depth, 
and  velocity  of  its  tributaries,  collected 
specimens  of  every  kind,  and  noted  the 
winds,  currents,  changes  of  the  weatlier, 
and  all  atmospheric  phenomena.  The 
bottom  of  this  sea  consists  of  two  sub- 
merged plains,  an  elevated  and  a  depressed 
one.     Through  the  northern,  and  largest 


RIGHT   BAhK  OF  THE  DEAD  SEA. 


can  venture  upon  this  sea  and  live,  and  the 
sad  fates  of  Costigan  and  Molyneux  are 
repeatedly  cited  to  deter  such  attempts. 
The  first  one  spent  a  few  days,  the  last 
about  twenty  hours,  and  returned  to  the 
place  from  whence  he  had  embarked 
without  landing  on  its  shores.  One  was 
found  dying  upon  the  shore ;  the  other 
expired,  immediately  after  his  return,  of 
fever  contracted  upon  its  waters. 

The  northern  shore  is  an  extensive  mud 
flat,  with  a  sandy  plain  beyond,  the  very 
type  of  desolation  ;  branches  and  trunks  of 
trees  lay  scattered  in  every  direction — 
some  charred  and  blackened  as  by  fire, 
others  white  with  an  incrustation  of  salt. 
The  north-western  shore  is  an  unmixed  bed 
of  gravel,  coming  in  a  gradual  slope  from 
the  mountains  to  the  sea.  The  eastern 
coast  is  a  rugged  line  of  mountains,  bare 
of  all  vegetation — a  continuation  of  the 
Hauran  range,  coming  from  the  north,  and 
extending  south  beyond  the  scope  of 
vision,  throwing  out  three  marked  and 
seemingly  equi-distant  promontories  from 
its  south-eastern  extremities. 

Lieutenant  Lynch  fully  sounded  the  sea, 
determined  its  geographical  position,  took 


and  deepest  one,  in  a  line  corresponding 
with  the  bed  of  the  Jordan,  is  a  ravine, 
which  also  seems  to  correspond  with  the 
Wady  el-Jeib,  or  ravine  within  a  ravine,  at 
the  south  end  of  the  sea. 

At  one  time,  the  sea  was  observed  to 
assume  an  aspect  peculiarly  somber.  Un- 
stirred by  the  wind,  it  lay  smooth  and 
unrufiled  as  an  inland  lake.  The  great 
evaporation  inclosed  it  in  a  thin  transpar- 
ent vapor,  its  purple  tinge  contrasting 
strongly  with  the  extraordinary  color  of 
the  sea  beneath,  and,  where  they  blended 
in  the  distance,  giving  it  the  appearance 
of  smoke  from  burning  sul})hur.  It  seemed 
a  vast  caldron  of  metal,  fused  but  motion- 
less. The  surface  of  the  sea  was  one  wide 
sheet  of  phosphorescent  foam,  and  the 
waves,  as  they  broke  upon  the  shore,  threw 
a  sepulchral  light  upon  the  dead  bushes 
and  scattered  fragments  of  rocks.  The 
exhalations  and  saline  deposits  are  as  un- 
friendly to  vegetable  life  as  the  waters  are 
to  animal  existence ;  that  fruit  can  be 
brought  to  perfection  there,  may  therefore 
well  be  considered  improbable. 

The  celebrated  "Apples  of  Sodom,"  so 
often  sj)oken  of   by  ancient  and  modern 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


409 


writers,  are  peculiai*  to  this  locality.  The 
plant  is  a  perennial,  specimens  of  which 
have  been  found  from  ten  to  fifteen  feet 
high,  and  seven  or  eight  feet  in  girth.  It 
has  a  gray,  cork-like  bark,  with  long  and 
oval  leaves.  The  fruit  resembles  a  large 
smooth  apple  or  orange,  and  when  ripe  is 
of  a  yellow  color.  It  is  fair  to  the  eye, 
and  soft  to  the  touch,  but  when  j^i'essed, 
it  explodes  with  a  puff,  leaving  in  the 
hand  only  the  shreds  of  the  rind  and  a  few 
fibers.  It  is,  indeed,  chiefly  filled  with 
air  like  a  bladder,  which  gives  it  the  round 
form,  while  in  the  center  is  a  pod  contain- 
ing a  quantity  of  fine  silk  with  seeds. 
When  green,  the  fruit,  like  the  leaves  and 
the  bark,  affords,  when  cut  or  broken,  a 
thickish,  white  milky  fluid.  This  plant, 
however,  which  from  being  in  Palestine 
found  only  on  the  shores  of  the  Dead  Sefi, 
was  locally  regarded  as  being  the  special 
and  characteristic  product  of  that  lake,  is 
produced  also  in  Nubia,  Arabia,  and  Persia. 
Thus,  this  assumed  mystery  of  the  'Sea  of 
Death '  is  a  simple  phenomenon  of  nature, 
easily  explained ;  as  is  also  that  of  the 
alleged  fire  and  smoke  of  the  lake,  being, 
as  already  described,  simply  mist  and 
phosphorescence. 

In  regard  to  the  pillar  of  salt  into  which 
Lot's  wife  was  turned, — one  of  the  most 
remarkable  facts  recorded  in  holy  writ, — 
and  the  continued  existence  of  which  has 
always  been  asserted  by  the  natives,  as 
well  as  by  many  travelers.  Lieutenant 
Lynch  asserts  that  a  pillar  is  there  to  be 
seen ;  the  same,  without  doubt,  to  Avhich 
the  reports  of  the  natives  and  of  travelers 
refer.  But  that  this  pillar,  or  any  like  it, 
is  or  was  that  into  which  Lot's  wife  was 
transformed,  cannot,  of  course,  be  demon- 
strated. 

It  is  a  lofty,  round  pillar,  standing  ap- 
parently detached  from  the  general  mass, 


at  the  head  of  a  deep,  narrow,  and  abrupt 
chasm.  Immediately  pulling  in  for  the 
shore,  the  lieutenant  in  company  with  Dr. 
Anderson,  went  up  and  examined  it.  The 
beach  was  a  soft,  slimy  mud,  encrusted 
with  salt,  and  a  short  distance  from  thf 
water,  covered  with  saline  fragments,  and 
flakes  of  bitumen.  They  found  the  pillar 
to  be  of  solid  salt,  capped  with  carbonate 
of  lime,  cylindrical  in  front  and  pyramidal 
behind.  The  upper  or  rounded  part  is 
about  forty  feet  high,  resting  on  a  kind  of 
oval  pedestal,  from  forty  to  sixty  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea.  It  slightly  decreases 
in  size  upwards,  crumbles  at  the  top,  and  is 
one  entire  mass  of  crystallization.  A  prop 
or  buttress  connects  it  with  the  mountain 
behind,  and  the  whole  is  covered  with  de- 
bris of  a  light  stone  color.  Its  peculiar 
shape  is  attributable  to  the  action  of  the 
winter  rains.  Lieutenant  Lynch  gives  no 
credit  to  the  representations  that  connect 
this  pillar  or  column  with  Lot's  wife. 
And  this  is  true  of  most  travelers  who  have 
visited  the  spot,  though  Montague  gives  it, 
as  his  opinion,  that  Lot's  wife  having  lin- 
gered behind,  she,  while  so  lingering,  be- 
came overwhelmed  in  the  descending  fluid, 
and  formed  the  model  or  foundation  for 
this  extraordinary  column  ;  a  lasting  me- 
morial  of  God's  punishing  a  most  deliber- 
ate  act  of  disobedience. 

After  an  absence  of  a  little  more  than  a 
year,  Lieutenant  Lynch  returned,  with  his 
companions,  to  the  United  States,  the  ex- 
pedition having  been  highly  successful  in 
accomplishing  the  purpose  for  which  it 
was  planned ;  comparing  most  favorably 
in  this  respect  with  the  results  of  explora- 
tions made  by  other  parties,  and  receiving 
the  highest  encomiums  of  English  review- 
ers, some  of  whose  comments,  throwing 
additional  light  on  various  points  involved 
in  the  subject,  are  here  presented. 


LYIII. 

DISCOVERY    OF   GOLD    AT    SUTTER'S    MILL,   CALIFOR- 
NIA.—1848. 


Widely  Extended  and  Inexhaustible  Deposits  of  the  Precious  Metal.— The  News  Spreads  like  Wild-fire 
to  the  Four  Quarters  of  the  Globe.— Overwhelming  Tide  of  Emigration  from  All  Countries —Nucleus 
of  a  Great  Empire  on  the  Pacific— California  Becomes  the  El  Dorado  of  the  World  and  the  Golden 
Commonwealth  of  the  American  Union  —First  Practical  Discovery  of  the  Gold.— On  John  A.  Sutter's 
Land— Found  by  J.  W.  Marshall  —Simple  Accident  that  Led  to  It— Marshall's  Wild  Excitement.— 
Shows  Sutter  the  Golden  Grains.— A  Dramatic  Interview.— The  Discovery  Kept  Secret— How  it 
was  Disclosed.— A  Keal  Wonder  of  the  Age.— Trials  of  the  Early  Emigrants.— Their  Bones  Whiten 
the  Soil  —All  Professions  at  the  Mines  —Impetus  Given  to  Commerce.— Life  Among  the  Diggers. — 
Disordered  State  of  Society.— Crimes,  Outrages,  Conflagrations.— Sciircity,  Fabulous  Prices.— Mining 
by  Machinery.— Order  and  Stability  Keached.— Population  in  1857,  600,000.- Gold  in  Ten  Years 
$600,000,000. 


"  GnUl  to  fetch,  and  goM  to  send, 
Golrl  to  b(irn>w,  and  f;"lil  to  lend, 
Gold  to  keep,  and  gold  to  spend. 
And  abundance  of  t'old  injuturo.' 


:%^^ 


MIXING  OFEBATIONS   IN  CALIFORNIA 


ITHOUT    any    exaggeration,    it 

may  be  asserted  tliat  no  modern 

event  has  been   the   canse  of  so 

much  romance  in   real   life, — no 

brancli  or  sjihere  of  trade,  even  though  perfected  by  long 

experience,  has  called  into   employment  so  many  of    the 

means  and  instrumentalities  of  diversified  human  industry 

and   commercial   intercourse, — indeed,   nothing  Avithin  the 

memory  of  man,  except  the  achievements  of  steam  and  the 

electric  telegraph,  approaches  so  nearly  to  magic,  as  the 

discovery  of  gold,  in  luxurious  deposits,  on  the  shores  of  the 

Pacific,  and  tliat,  too,  in  the  soil  of  a  territory  which,  by 

oiiquest  and  purchase,  had  but  just  fallen,  like  fruit  golden 

ripe,  into  the  lap  of  the  Great  Republic.     This 

discovery  occurred  at  Sutter's  mill,  in  Coloma 

county,  California,  in  February, 

1848.' 

Here,  however,  it  deserves  to 
be  stated  as  a  matter  of  histori- 
-  cal  interest,  that  gold  placers 
were  worked  in  certain  portions 
of  California,  long  before  the 
discovery  just  mentioned.     The 


-"'-  7  1 


<2^V(ttiV.^ 


GREAT  ^VND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


501 


evidence  of  this  appears  in  a  letter  ad- 
dressed by  Abel  Stearns,  of  Los  Angeles, 
to  Louis  R.  Lull,  secretary  of  the  Califor- 
nia Society  of  Pioneers.  Mr.  Stearns,  who 
went  to  California  from  Mexico  in  1829, 
states  that  on  the  22d  of  November,  1842, 
he  sent  by  Alfred  Robinson — who  returned 
from  California  to  the  states  by  way  of 
Mexico — twenty  ounces  California  weight, 
or  eighteen  and  three-fourths  ounces  mint 
weight,  of  placer  gold,  to  be  forwarded  by 
him  to  the  United  States  mint  at  Phila- 
delphia; the  mint  assay  was  returned 
August  6,  1843.  This  gold  was  taken 
from  placers  first  discovered  in  March, 
1842,  by  Francisco  Lopez,  a  Californian, 
at  San  Francisquito,  about  thirty-five  miles 
north-west  from  Los  Angeles.  It  appears 
that  Lopez,  while  resting  in  the  shade  with 
some  companions,  during  a  hunt  for  stray 
horses,  dug  up  some  wild  onions  with  his 
sheath  knife,  and  in  tlie  dirt  discovered  a 
piece  of  gold.  Searching  further,  he  found 
more  pieces,  and  on  returning  to  town  an- 
nounced his  discovery.  A  few  persons, 
mostly  Sonorians,  who  were  accustomed  to 
placer  mining  in  Mexico,  worked  in  the 
San  Francisquito  placer  from  this  time 
until  the  latter  part  of  1846  (when  the 
w^ar  with  the  United  States  disturbed  the 
country),  taking  out  some  six  thousand  to 
eight  thousand  dollars  in  value,  per  annum. 
The  United  States  mint  certificate  for  the 
assay  made  for  Mr.  Stearns  in  1843,  is  now 
in  the  archives  of  the  ''  Society  of  Califor- 
nia Pioneers." 

Before  the  great  event  which  made  the 
year  1848  so  memorable,  the  influence  of 
the  United  States  had  already  become  con- 
spicuous in  the  affairs  of  California,  and 
had  in  a  degree  prepared  the  way  for  what 
was  to  follow.  In  the  words  of  a  British 
writer,  the  United  States  spread  her  actual 
influence  long  before  she  planted  a  flag  as 
the  sign  of  her  dominion.  For  two  years 
previous  to  the  capture  of  Monterey,  in 
1846,  her  authority  had  been  paramount  in 
California.  At  length,  toward  the  close  of 
the  summer  of  1845,  Fremont  appeared  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Monterey,  whose  park- 
like   scenery  —  trees    scattered   in   groups 


over  grassy  hills,  wide  sloping  fields,  plan- 
tations of  oak  and  fir,  red-tiled  houses, 
yellow-washed  church,  and  white  cottages 
— showed  in  pleasant  contrast  to  the  deso- 
late region  of  the  Rocky  mountains  he  had 
left.  He  was  accompanied  by  some  of  his 
trappers  —  men  of  muscle  and  daring, 
dressed  in  deer-skin  coats,  with  formidable 
rifles,  and  mounted  on  tall,  spare  horses. 
They  rode  in  Indian  file  through  the  out- 
skirts;  their  leader  viewed  the  town,  and 
they  vanished.  Soon  again  he  appeared, 
with  an  ominous  array  of  thirty-five  fol- 
lowers, encamped  on  a  woody  height;  was 
commanded  to  depart,  was  driven  to  the 
hills,  pursued,  and  again  lost  sight  of. 
An  American  ship  then  sailed  into  the 
harbor.  Fremont  was  again  at  Monterey. 
The  Californians  foresaw  the  probable 
progress  of  events,  and  perhaps  secretly 
desired  the  fostering  protection  of  the 
great  republic.  While  balancing  between 
that  and  independence,  two  United  States 
vessels  simultaneously  entered  the  harbors 
of  Monterey  and  San  Francisco,  and  in 
July,  1846,  the  whole  of  California  came 
under  the  rule  of  America.  A  new  era 
was  again  opened.  An  immediate  change 
appeared.  Industry  was  revived;  deserted 
villages  were  repeopled ;  neglected  lands 
were  again  cultivated ;  decaying  towns 
were  renovated;  and  the  busy  hum  of 
toil  broke  that  silence  and  lethargy  which 
brooded  over  an  ill-governed  country. 

But  another  and  greater  change  was  at 
hand,  to  turn  the  tide  of  her  fortunes  into 
a  new,  a  wider,  and  more  diffusive  channel, 
and  to  raise  California  from  the  condition 
of  a  wild  and  isolated  territory,  to  be  the 
very  focus  of  the  world's  attention, — the 
spot  where  innumerable  streams  of  emigra- 
tion from  the  four  quarters  of  the  world, 
from  barbarous  and  civilized  countries, 
pouring  across  the  Rocky  Mountains,  or 
brought  over  the  sea,  from  distant  shores, 
were  to  meet  in  tumultuous  confluence, 
and,  flowing  upon  each  other,  form  an 
eddying  whirlpool  of  excitement,  such  as 
few  countries  on  the  globe,  in  any  period 
of  their  history,  could  present  to  the  ob- 
servation of  mankind. 


602 


OUE  FIEST  CENTUEY.— 1776-1876. 


"What  is  the  character  of  this  regioB, 
independently  of  its  newly  -  discovered 
treasures,  at  the  period  mentioned  ?  It 
is  wealthy  in  many  natural  resources.  Its 
•extent  is  great.  From  Cape  Mendocino, 
at  the  borders  of  the  United  States,  to  the 
root  of  the  peninsula,  is  seven  hundred 
miles,  and  Lower  California  thrusts  out 
its  vast  tongue  to  an  almost  equal  dis- 
tance. The  old  region  is  for  the  most 
part  a  broken,  hilly,  and  barren  tract  of 
land  ;  but  occasional  plains  of  rich  fertility 
alternate  with  the  less  favored  tracts,  and 
these  formed  the  sites  of  the  old  Jesuit 
jsiiissions.  Alta  California  extends  from 
-the  coast  to  the  provinces  of  New  Mexico. 
'Of  the  interior  desert  basin,  little  is  known, 
except  that  it  is  a  wild,  rocky,  and  woody 
teri'itory,  watered  by  a  few  rivers,  and 
lakes,  rising  periodically  from  the  earth, 
and  peopled  by  wandering  Indian  hordes. 
The  Sierra  Nevada,  or  snowy  range,  di- 
vides the  gold  region  from  the  great  des- 
ert basin ;  and  between  this  and  the  sea 
lies  another  line  of  mountains,  forming  a 
valley  five  hundred  miles  in  length,  wa- 
tered by  the  Sacramento  and  the  San 
•Joachim.  These  streams,  forming  a  junc- 
tion in  the  center  of  the  valle}^,  diverge 
toward  the  sea,  and  pour  in  an  united 
■current  into  the  harbor  of  San  Francisco 
— one  of  the  noblest  on  the  globe.  The 
aspect  of  the  country  is  diversified,  and 
full  of  beauty.  Green  valleys,  glittering 
lakes,  and  verdant  hills,  extend  along  the 
interior  borders,  backed  by  the  rounded 
spires  of  the  snowy  range,  whose  deep  ra- 
vines and  caverns  are  just  now  peopled  by 


toiling  gold-hunters ;  and  these  are  drawing 
more  wealth  from  the  bleakest,  most  bar- 
ren, and  most  neglected  spots,  than  a  hus- 
bandman in  the  course  of  many  years  could 
derive  from  the  most  luxuriantly  cultivated 
land.  Along  the  river  banks,  light  grassy 
slopes  alternate  with  stony,  broken,  sandy 
expanses,  honey-combed  as  it  were  by 
time,  but  now  swarming  with  amateur 
delvers.  However,  the  country,  as  a 
whole,  is  fertile  ;  producing  readily  grains, 
vegetables,  and  fruits,  with  fine  timber, 
whilst  immense  pasture  grounds  afford 
nourishment  to  the  flocks  and  herds  that 
once  formed  the  principal  wealth  of  Cali- 
fornia. 

Up  to  the  year  1847,  so  comparatively 
small  were  the  gatherings  of  gold,  in 
various   sections   of   the    globe,    that    in 


*^5  ^^^1^ 


SUTTEK'S  MILL,   WHERE  GOLD  WAS  FIKST  DISCOVEllED,   IN   1848. 


GREA.T  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


503 


reckoning  the  average  produce  of  the  pre- 
cious metal,  of  all  parts  of  the  New  and 
Old  World  for  a  series  of  years  previous  to 
1847,  it  (lid  not  amount  to  tlie  annual 
value  of  tvventy-tive  million  dollars. 

It  was  in  September,  1847,  that  Captain 
John  A.  Suttei-,  the  great  pioneer  settler 
in  California,  commenced  an  undertaking 


JOHN    A.   SDTTER. 


■which  led,  by  a  very  simple  and  ordinary 
circumstance,  to  tlie  first  ixractical  dis- 
covery of  the  prodigiously  valuable  gold 
•mines  of  California — the  long-sought  El 
Dorado  of  ancient  and  modern  times. 
This  undertaking  consisted  in  the  erection 
of  a  saw-mill  at  Coloma,  on  a  mountainous 
spot  about  one  thousand  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  valley,  Avhere  the  Rio  des  los 
Americanos  pours  down  fi'om  the  Sierra 
Nevada  to  swell  the  united  streams  of  the 
Sacramento  and  San  Joachim. 

Such  an  enterprise,  in  such  a  region,  at 
a  time  when  the  political  and  social  con- 
dition of  the  country  was  so  unsettled  and 
uncertain,  indicated  a  mind  of  energy  and 
executive  capacity,  on  the  part  of  the 
projector.  And  it  was  even  so,  in  full 
measure,  in  the  case  of  Captain  Sutter. 
He  is  described,  by  his  biographers,  in  the 
annals  of  San  Francisco,  as  an  intelligent 
Swiss  emigrant,  who  sailed  for  and  reached 
New  York,  in  July,  1834;  but  finally 
settled  and  for  several  years  resided  in 
Missouri.  The  wild  west  had  always 
possessed  a  charm  for  him,  and  he  had  re- 
moved thither;  but  now  his  adventurous 
spirit  looked  still  further  towards  the  setting 


sun,  and  roved  along  the  waters  that  sped 
their  unknown  way  to  the  Pacific.  Leav- 
ing family  and  home,  in  company  with  Sir 
AVilliam  Drunnuond  Stewart,  he  joined  a 
party,  under  the  charge  of  Captain  Tripps, 
of  the  American  Fur  Company,  and  start- 
ed for  the  broad  valle3's  of  California, 
where  he  knew  that  rich  and  fertile  lands 
only  awaited  an  industrious  cultivator,  and 
where  Providence  had  even  a  still  richer 
yielding  field  that  he  knew  not  of.  He 
left  the  trappers  at  their  rendezvous  on 
the  Wind  river  among  the  Kansas  Rocky 
mountains,  and  with  a  new  party  of  six 
decided  on  proceeding  to  their  destination 
by  way  of  Oregon.  Crossing  the  valley  of 
the  Willamette,  he  finally  arrived  at  Fort 
Vancouver,  and  there  ascertained  that 
innumerable  delays  must  elapse  before  he 
could  reach  California.  Nothing  daunted, 
and  apparently  urged,  like  Columbus,  to 
accomplish  his  object  despite  of  fate. 
Captain  Sutter  sailed  for  the  Sandwich 
Islands,  hoping  to  embark  thence  direct 
for  the  Spanish  coast.  But  when  he 
arrived  there,  no  vessels  were  about  to  sail 
in  that  direction.  Again  he  threw  down 
the  gauntlet  to  fate,  and  re-embarked  for 
Sitka  Island,  in  Russian  America,  and 
from  that  immense  distance  at  last  reached 
Yerba  Buena,  July  second,  1839.  Not 
permitted  to  land  here,  he  again  embarked, 
and  was  finally  allowed  to  set  foot  on 
California  soil  at  Monterey.  Having  suc- 
ceeded in  overcoming  the  Spanish  opposi- 
tion to  foreign  settlers,  he  obtained  the 
permission  of  Governor  Alvarado  to  locate 
himself  in  the  valley  of  the  Rio  del  Sacra- 
mento ;  more  readily  granted,  perhaps, 
because  it  was  then  the  abode  of  savage 
Indians.  He  explored  the  Sacramento, 
Feather  and  American  rivers,  and  in 
August,  1839,  about  eighteen  months  after 
he  commenced  his  journey,  permanentl}' 
established  himself  on  the  latter  river, 
with  a  colony  of  only  three  whites  and 
eight  Kanakas.  In  a  short  time,  he  re- 
moved to  the  location  afterwards  known  as 
Sutter's  Fort,  and  took  possession  of  the 
surrounding  country  under  a  Mexican 
grant,    giving    to    it    the    name    of    New 


504 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Helvetia.  From  this  point  he  cut  a  road 
to  the  junction  of  the  Sacramento  and 
American  rivers,  where  he  established  a 
quay  or  landing-place,  on  the  site  of  which 
has  since  been  built  the  city  of  Sacramento. 
Here  he  remained  for  several  years,  becom- 
ing possessor  of  a  large  amount  of  land, 
and  rapidly  carrying  on  various  and  ex- 
tensive im]3rovements.  At  one  time  he 
had  a  thousand  acres  sown  in  wheat,  and 
owned  eight  thousand  neat  cattle,  two 
thousand  horses  and  mules,  as  many  sheep, 
and  a  thousand  swine.  He  was  appointed 
alcalde  of  the  district  by  Commodore 
Stockton,  and  Indian  agent  by  General 
Kearney ;  and  with  all  his  sympathies 
with  this  country,  his  earnest  wish  was  to 
see  California  brought  into  the  American 
Union. 

Among  the  followers  of  Sutter  was 
James  W.  Marshall,  who  emigrated  from 
New  Jersey  to  Oregon  in  1843,  and  a  year 
later  went  to  California.  By  trade  he 
was  a  carpenter,  and  to  him  Captain 
Sutter  intrusted  the  erection  of  the  saw- 
mill at  Coloma,  where  good  water-power 
and  plenty  of  lumber  had  determined  its 
location.  It  was  this  enterprise  which  led 
to  the  most  famous  discovery  of  gold  ever 
known  in  the  history  of  the  globe.  How 
this  happened,  has  been  differently  related 
by  different  authorities,  but  perhaps  by 
none  more  authentically  than  by  Mr. 
Dunbar,  president  of  the  Traveller's  Club 
of  New  York.  The  saw-mill  was  com- 
pleted in  January,  1848,  and  they  had 
just  commenced  sawing  lumber,  when,  on 
the  night  of  February  2d,  Marshall 
appeared  at  Sutter's  Fort,  his  horse  in  a 
foam  and  himself  presenting  a  singular 
appearance — all  bespattered  with  mud, 
and  laboring  under  intense  excitement. 

And  now  ensued  a  scene  which  can 
scarcely  be  exceeded  in  its  elements  of 
dramatic  representation.  Marshall  imme- 
diately requested  Captain  Sutter  to  go 
with  him  into  a  room  where  tliey  could  be 
alone.  This  request  was  granted,  and, 
after  the  door  was  closed,  Marshall  asked 
Captain  Sutter  if  he  was  sure  they  would 
not   be  disturbed,    and   desired   that   the 


door  might  be  locked.  Captain  Sutter  did 
not  know  what  to  make  of  his  actions,  and 
he  began  to  think  it  hazardous  to  lock 
himself  in  the  room  with  Marshall,  who 
aj^peared  so  uncommonly  strange.  Mar- 
shall being  satisfied  at  last  that  they 
would  not  be  interrupted,  took  from  his 
pocket  a  pouch  from  which  he  poured 
upon  the  table  about  an  ounce  of  j-ellow 
grains  of  metal,  Avhich  he  thought  would 
prove  to  be  gold.  Captain  Sutter  inquired 
where  he  got  it.  Marshall  stated  that  in 
the  morning,  the  water  being  shut  off  from 
the  saw-mill  race,  as  Avas  customary,  he 
discovered,  in  passing  through  the  race, 
shining  particles  here  and  there  on  the 
bottom.  On  examination,  he  found  them 
to  be  of  metallic  substance,  and  the 
thought  flashed  over  him  that  they  might 
be  gold.  How  big  with  events  tvas  this 
point  of  time  !  Marshall  stated  that  the 
laborers — white  and  Indian — had  picked 
up  some  of  the  particles,  and  he  thought 
a  large  quantity  could  be  collected. 

Captain  Sutter  was  at  first  quite 
incredulous  as  to  these  particles  being 
gold,  but  happening  to  have  a  bottle  of 
nitric  acid  among  his  stores,  he  applied 
the  test,  and,  true  enough,  the  yellow 
grains  proved  to  be  pure  gold.  The  great 
discovery  tvas  made! 

The  account  given  above  agrees  sub- 
stantially with  Captain  Sutter's  own 
narrative  of  the  event,  namely :  That 
Marshall  had  contracted  with  him  for  the 
building  of  a  saw-mill  for  producing 
lumber,  on  the  south  fork  of  the  American 
River,  a  feeder  of  the  Sacramento.  In 
the  course  of  his  operations,  Marshall  had 
occasion  to  admit  the  river  water  into  the 
tail-race,  for  the  purpose  of  widening  and 
deepening  it  by  the  strength  of  the 
current.  In  doing  this,  a  considerable 
quantity  of  mud,  sand,  and  gravel,  was 
carried  along  with  tlio  stream,  and 
deposited  in  a  heap  at  the  foot  of  the  tail- 
race.  Marshall,  when  one  day  examining 
the  state  of  his  works,  noticed  a  few 
glittering  particles  lying  near  the  edge  of 
the  heap.  His  curiosity  being  aroused, 
he  gathered  some  of  the  sparkling  objects; 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


605 


and  he  at  once  became  satisfied  of  their 
nature  and  the  value  of  his  discovery.  All 
trembling  with  excitement,  he  hurried  to 
his  employer  and  told  his  story.  Captain 
Sutter  at  first  thought  it  was  a  fiction,  and 
the  teller  only  a  mad  fool.  Indeed,  he 
confesses  that  he  kept  a  sharp  eye  upon 
his  loaded  rifle,  when  he,  wiiom  he  was 
tempted  to  consider  a  maniac,  was  eagerly 
disclosing  the  miraculous  tale.  However, 
his  doubts  were  all  at  once  dispelled  when 
Marshall  tossed  on  the  table  before  him 
some  of  the  shining  dust. 

Not  less  interesting  is  the  account  given 
of  the  manner  in  which  the  discovery 
became  public — owing,  as  appears  by  Mr. 
Dunbar's  statement,  to  that  which  extracts 
both  wit  and  wisdom,  as  well  as  folly,  from 
the  brain  of  man.  After  some  examin- 
ation, Captain  Sutter  became  satisfied  that 
gold  in  considerable  quantities  would  be 
found  in  that  neighborhood;  and  while  the 
reflections  of  Marshall  were  probably  con- 
fined to  the  idea  of  rapidly  acquired 
wealth  for  himself,  Captain  Sutter  realized 
at  once  how  impossible  it  would  be  to  hold 
his  laborers  to  their  work  in  carrying  on 
his  improvements,  gathering  his  crops,  and 
avoid  being  overrun  by  new-comers, 
should  the  gold  prove  abundant  and  the 
discovery  be  promulgated.  He  therefore 
begged  the  laborers  to  say  nothing  about 
the  gold  for  six  weeks.  His  grist-mill  and 
some  other  improvements  would  then  be 
completed,  and  his  crops  all  gathered. 
The  laborers  promised  to  comply  with  his 
request,  and  Captain  Sutter  returned  home 
on  the  fifth  of  February.  But  the  great 
secret  could  not  long  be  retained.  A 
bottle  of  whiskey  made  it  known.  A 
teamster,  whom  Captain  Sutter  had  dis- 
patched to  the  saw-mill  with  supplies, 
heard  of  the  discovery  of  gold,  and 
managed  to  obtain  some  of  the   precious 


grains. 


On    returninsr    to    the    fort,     he 


immediately  went  to  the  neighboring 
store,  kept  by  a  Mormon,  and  demanded  a 
bottle  of  whiske3^  This  was  a  cash  article 
in  that  country,  and,  as  the  teamster  was 
poor  pay,  the  trader  refused  to  sell  him 
the  whiskey.     The  man  declared  he  had 


plenty  of  mone}',  and  exhibited  some 
grains  of  gold.  The  astonished  trader,  on 
being  satisfied  that  these  were  gold,  gave 
his  customer  the  bottle  of  whiskey,  and 
earnestly  inquired  where  he  got  the  gold. 
The  teamster  refused  to  make  known  the 
secret  till  he  had  imbibed  considerable  of 
the  liquor,  when  his  tongue  was  loosened, 
and  he  told  all  about  the  discovery  of  gold 
at  Sutter's  mill.  The  wonderful  tale 
spread  like  wild-fire  throughout  the 
sparsely  inhabited  territory  of  California. 
It  ran  up  and  down  the  Pacific  coast, 
traversed  the  continent,  reached  the 
Atlantic  shores,  and  in  a  short  time  the 
story  of  California's  golden  treasures  had 
startled  the  whole  civilized  world. 

Naturally  enough,  the  first  rumors,  as 
they  spread  abroad,    were  lightly   tossed 


JAMES  W.   MARSHALL. 


aside ;  but  confirmation  gave  them 
strength,  and  as  each  transmission  of 
intelligence  to  the  United  States  carried 
fresh  accounts  of  new  discoveries,  an 
enthusiastic  ardor  was  awakened,  and 
within  four  months  of  that  eventful  day, 
five  thousand  persons  were  delving  on  the 
river's  banks,  on  the  slopes,  amid  the 
ravines,  hollows,  and  caverns  in  the  valley 
of  the  Sacramento. 

And  now,  from  the  vast  population  of 
the  great  republic,  new  streams  of  emigra- 
tion broke  at  once  to  swell  that  current 
which  for  years  had  set  noiselessly  toward 
the  valleys  of  California.  Gradually,  the 
knowledge  of  the  auriferous  soil  was  borne 
to  the  four  quarters  of  the  world,  and  from 


506 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


all  the  ports  of  all  nations  sails  were 
spread  toward  the  coasts  of  that  wealtliy 
region.  As  by  a  magnetic  impulse,  the 
sands  of  the  Sacramento  attracted  popula- 
tion. Lawyers,  clergj'men,  physicians, 
hotel-keepers,  merchants,  mechanics, 
clerks,  traders,  farmers,  left  their  occupa- 
tions, and  hurried  with  basket  and  spade 
to  the  land  that  glittered.  Homes  and 
houses  were  closed ;  the  grass  threatened 
to  grow  over  whole  streets  ;  deserted  ships 
swung  on  their  anchors  in  silent  harbors. 
The  garrison  of  Monterey  abandoned  arms 
and  took  up  the  pickaxe  and  the  shovel. 
Trains  of  wagons  constantly  streamed 
from  the  coast  to  the  interior.  Stores  and 
sheds  were  built  along  the  river  bank, 
and  crammed  with  provisions  to  be  sold  at 
more  than  famine  prices;  whole  towns  of 
tents  and  bushy  bowers  sprang  up  as  if 
by  magic  ;  every  dawn  rose  upon  a  motley 
toiling  multitude,  swarming  in  every  nook 
and  corner  of  the  modern  El  Dorado,  and 
every  night  was  illuminated  by  the  flames 
of  a  thousand  bivouacs. 

Half-naked  Indians,  sharp-visaged  Yan- 
kees in  straw  hats  and  loose  frocks,  groups 
of  swarthy  Spanish-Americans,  old  Dons 
in  the  gaudy  costume  of  a  dead  fashion, 
gigantic  trappers  with  their  rude  j^rairie 
garb,  and  gentlemen  traders  from  all  tlie 
States  of  the  Union,  with  crowds  of 
Californian  women,  jostled  in  tumultuous 
confusion  through  the  gold  district. 
Eveiy  method,  from  the  roughest  to  the 
most  ingenious,  was  devised  for  the  rapid 
accumulation  of  gold ;  and  the  strange 
spectacle  was  presented  of  a  vast  popula- 
tion, without  law,  without  authoritj'-,  with- 
out restraint,  toiling  together  in  amicable 
companionship.  But  the  duration  of  this 
condition  of  tilings  was  brief.  Outrages 
were  perpetrated,  robbery  commenced, 
blood  was  shed,  and  anarchy  in  its  most 
hideous  form  appeared.  But  the  United 
States  government  soon  laid  the  founda- 
tions of  order,  and  prepared  a  system  of 
regular  legislation  for  California.  A 
severe  code  was  established;  thieving  in- 
curred the  heavy  penalty  of  a  brand  on 
the   cheek,   with   mutilation  of   the   ears : 


other  crimes  were  punished  with  similar 


rigor. 


Within  a  period  of  five  months,  the 
population  of  the  territory  had  run  up  to 
one  hundred  thousand,  having  just  quad- 
rupled during  that  time.  Of  these,  some 
forty-five  thousand  arrived  in  the  nine 
thousand  wagons  that  traversed  the  over- 
land route,  and  four  thousand  on  mule- 
back,  while  the  remainder  came  via 
Panama,  and  round  Cape  Horn.  One- 
third  of  this  multitude  was  composed  of 
farmers,  another  of  tradesmen  and  me- 
chanics, and  the  rest  of  merchants,  pro- 
fessional men,  adventurers,  and  gamblers. 
The  vast  emigrant  armies  acted  as  pioneers 
on  their  various  routes,  hewing  down 
trees,  filling  up  chasms,  leveling  the 
grounds,  and  bridging  torrents.  But  the 
sufferings  endured  in  these  colossal  cara- 
vans were  severe  and  terrible.  Many 
perished  on  the  route ;  many  became  in- 
sane, or  wasted  away,  through  lack  of  food 
and  water.  The  scourge  of  cholera  also 
overtook  the  early  emigrants,  before  they 
were  fairly  embarked  on  the  wilderness; 
the  frequent  rains  of  the  early  spring, 
added  to  the  hardships  and  exposure  of 
their  travel,  prepared  the  way  for  its 
ravages,  and  the  first  four  hundred  miles 
of  the  trail  were  marked  by  graves,  to 
the  number  of  about  four  thousand. 
Many  also  suffered  immensely  for  want 
of  food.  Bayard  Taylor,  in  his  narrative 
of  what  befell  these  pioneer  emigrants,  says 
that  not  only  were  they  compelled  to  kill 
their  horses  and  mules  to  keep  themselves 
from  starvation,  but  it  was  not  unusual  for 
a  mess  by  way  of  variety  to  the  tough  mule 
steaks,  to  kill  a  quantity  of  rattlesnakes, 
with  which  the  mountains  abounded,  and 
have  a  dish  of  them  fried  for  supper. 

And  still  the  tide  of  emigration  rolled 
onward,  as  the  richness  of  the  gold 
product,  over  so  vast  a  region  of  territory, 
became  a  confirmed  fact.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  oft-told  story  of  deprivation, 
famine  and  death,  parties  and  companies 
daily  went  forth  to  El  Dorado,  the  golden 
land.  Some  took  the  perilous  inland  route 
across  the  Rocky  mountains ;   some  went 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


507 


round  Cape  Horn;  and  multitudes  took 
the  Panama  route.  The  tens  of  thousands 
who  thus  went,  liaving  no  other  object 
than  to  get  gold,  Iiad  neither  means  nor 
inclination  to  grow  their  own  food  nor  to 
manufacture  their  own  necessaries ;  and 
hence  arose  a  field  of  enterprise  which  the 
commercial  world  did  not  neglect.  Valu- 
able cargoes  were  dispatched  to  San  Tran- 
cisco  to  be  there  sold  in  exchange  for 
gold  dust,  and  that  place  in  time  became  a 
populous,  busy,  thriving  city,  distinguished 
also  for  reckless  speculation,  fabulous 
prices  for  real  estate,  excesses  of  all  kinds, 
and  disastrous  conflagrations.  During 
one  week  in  1850,  gold  dust  to  the  value 
of  three  million  dollars  was  shipped  and 
exported  from  San  Francisco.  In  August 
of  the  same  year  the  monthly  shipment 
had  reached  about  eight  million  dollars. 
On  September  15,  1850,  there  were  in  that 
port  six  hundred  and  eighty-four  vessels, 
belonging  to  twenty-one  different  nations  ; 
some  of  these  vessels,  small  in  size,  had 
crossed  the  whole  breadth  of  the  Pacific 
from  Australia  and  New  Zealand,  to  ex- 
change their  produce  for  gold  dust.  In 
the  first  two  weeks  of  October,  in  the 
same  year,  ninety-four  vessels  arrived  at 
San  Francisco,  not  including  the  regular 
steamers. 

But  the  most  strange  and  wonderful 
spectacle  of  all,  was  that  exhibited  by 
the  money-diggers  at  their  avocation. 
Men  with  long-handled  shovels  delved 
among  clumps  of  bushes,  or  by  the  side  of 
large  rocks,  never  raising  their  eyes  for  an 
instant ;     others,    with    pick    and    shovel, 


worked  among  stone  and  gravel,  or  with 
trowels  searched  under  banks  and  roots 
of  trees,  where,  if  rewarded  with  small 
lumps  of  gold,  their  eyes  suddenly  kindled 
with  pleasure,  and  the  search  was  more 
intently  pursued.  In  the  water,  knee,  or 
even  waist  deep,  regardless  of  the  shiver- 
ing cold,  others  were  washing  the  soil 
in  the  tin  pans  or  the  common  cradle  rocker, 
whilst  the  sun  poured  a  hot  flood  upon  their 
heads.  The  common  rocking  machine 
for  separating  the  gold  was  at  first  in  great 
demand,  but  this  was  soon  superseded  by  a 
cradle  of  ingenious  construction ;  then 
came  crushing  mills,  of  various  kinds,  for 
pounding  the  auriferous  quartz ;  and  in 
time,  machinery  of  the  most  effective 
adaptability  was  universally  introduced. 
This  operated  powerfully  to  regulate  min- 
ing operations,  and  to  give  order  and 
stability  to  affairs  generally  throughout 
the  territory.  Society  assumed  the  most 
advanced  organization,  churches  every- 
where dotted  the  land,  education  was 
fostered,  and  the  political  institutions  of 
the  country  patterned  after  those  of  the 
older  states.  Agricultural,  industrial, 
and  commercial  pursuits  were  entered  upon 
largely  and  with  great  success  ;  California 
was  admitted  as  a  state  into  the  Union  in 
1850  ;  and  in  only  ten  years  from  Mar- 
shall's curious  and  accidental  discovery  of 
gold  at  Sutter's  mill,  in  1848,  the  gold 
product  of  California  had  reached  a  total 
of  six  hundred  million  dollars,  and  the 
population  had  increased  from  between 
twenty  and  thirty  thousand  souls  to  six 
hundred  thousand ! 


LIX. 
ASTOR  PLACE   OPERA-HOUSE  RIOTS,  NEW  YORK.— 1849. 


Terrible  Culmination  of  the  Feud  Between  Macready,  the  English  Star  Actor,  and  Forrest,  the  Great 
American  Tragedian. — Macready  Commences  to  Perform,  but  is  Violently  Driven  from  the  Stage. — 
A  Mob  of  Twenty  Thousand  Men  Surrounds  the  Tlieater,  and  Thunders  at  its  Doors. — Attempt  to 
Fire  and  Destroy  the  House  — Charge  of  tiie  Military. — Lamentable  Loss  of  Life. — Fame  ol  these  Great 
Actors. — Their  Former  Mutual  Friendship — Macready's  Tour  in  this  Country. — Forrest  Performs 
in  Europe. — Professional  Jealousies  Aroused. — Open  Rupture  at  Last. — Macready  Again  in  America. 
— Engages  to  Play  in  New  York. — Opposition  to  Him  There. — Appears  on  the  Stage,  May  8th. — Fierce 
Tumult  in  the  House. — Groans,  Hisses,  Insults. — He  Stands  Undismayed. — Fligiit  of  the  Audience. 
— Re-appearance,  May  10th. — The  House  Filled  to  the  Dome. — Riotous  Yells  and  Cries. — "  Down 
with  the  British  Hog!  " — Heroic  Demeanor  on  the  Stage. — Threats  of  the  Raging  Mob. — Its  Bloody 
Dispersion. — Macready  Leaves  the  Country. 


"  It  often  falls  in  course  of  common  life. 
That  ri^lit  Ion;;  lime  is  overborne  of  wrong; 
But  justice,  tho'  her  doom  she  cloth  prolong, 
\  et,  at  the  last,  she  will  her  own  cause  right." 


ROFESSIONAL  rivalry,  based  ^principally  upon    circumstances  arising  from 

different  nationality,  had  gradually  produced  feelings  of 
deep  personal  antagonism  between  Mr.  Edwin  Forrest,  con- 
fessedly the  greatest  of  American  tragedians,  and  Mr.  W. 
C.  Macready,  the  most  brilliant  and  powerful  actor  upon 
the  English  stage ;  and  this  alienation  was  shared  in  a  still 
greater  degree  of  intensity  by  the  numerous  friends  and 
partisans  of  the  respective  individuals,  finally  culminating 
in  a  tragedy  of  blood  and  de?th  that  shook  New  York  to  its 
center  and  engrossed  the  attention  of  America  and  Europe 
alike. 

Mr.  Forrest  and  his  friends  complained  chiefly  of  Mr. 
Macready's  conduct  in  his  own  country,  in  relation  to  Mr. 
Forrest,  during  the  visit  of  the  latter  to  England,  in  1844, 
— his  inhospitality,  his  crushing  influence,  his  vindictive 
opposition,  and  his  steadfast  determination  to  ruin  the  pros- 
.,  pects  of  Mr.  Forrest  in  Europe.     Mr.  Macready  had  previ- 

FORREST,  AS  sPARTAcus.  ously  becii  in  America,  and,  accompanied  by  Miss  Cushman, 

played  engagements  in  all  the  large  cities,  realizing  therefrom  fame  and  fortune.  But 
instead  of  returning  this  kindness,  he  acted  openly  towards  Mr.  Forrest  as  his  deter- 
mined foe.  In  Paris,  the  two  tragedians  met.  Mr.  Forrest  was  anxious  to  appear  on 
the  French  boards,  but  Macready  threw  obstacles  in  the  way ;  this  was  the  first  time 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


509 


that  the  parties  were  enemies, — they  had 
iu  by-gone  years  been  friends.  Forrest's 
subsequent  success  in  London  aroused 
Macready's  bitter  hostility,  and  he  deter- 
mined to  put  liim  down.  It  was  said  at 
the  time  that  lie  or  his  friends  actually 
hired  men  to  visit  the  theater  and  hiss 
Forrest  off  the  stage,  and  Forrest  was  con- 
sequently received  with  a  shower  of  hisses 
before  he  was  heard.  This  conduct  was 
followed  up  by  the  press,  by  which  both 
Forrest  and  his  country  were  assailed. 
Forrest  and  Macready  next  met  in  Edin- 
burgh, and  from  this  city  were  sent  forth 
bitter  charges  against  Forrest,  the  chief  of 
which  was,  that  he  had  hissed  JNIacready 
for  dancing  and  throwing  up  his  handker- 
chief across  the  stage,  in  one  of  the  parts 
which  he  was  then  enacting. 

Criminations  and  recriminations  were 
thus  indulged  in,  without  measure,  each 
party  claiming  to  be  the  one  aggrieved, 
and  the  quarrel  enlisted  the  warm  and 
active  interest  of  the  public,  on  both  sides 
of  the  Atlantic.  In  1848,  Mr.  Macready 
again  made  a  professional  visit  to  the 
United  States,  and,  after  performing  in 
various  parts  of  the  country,  commenced  a 
farewell  engagement  at  the  Astor  Place 
Opera-House,  New  York,  in  May,  1849, 
in  the  character  of  Macbeth,  under  the 
auspices  of  Messrs.  Hackett  and  Niblo. 

Here  the  anti-Macready  party  deter- 
mined to  silence  him  by  mob  violence. 
The  seventh  of  May  was  the  time  appointed 
for  him  to  commence  this  engagement, — 
with  what  result,  the  accounts  given  by 
the  press  of  that  city  will  show,  as  follows  : 
As  soon  as  the  doors  were  opened,  a  very 
large  number  of  persons,  of  the  male  sex, 
entered  the  theater,  and  took  their  seats  in 
different  parts  of  the  house.  They  were 
followed  by  many  others,  among  whom 
were  probably  fifty  or  sixty  ladies.  Long 
before  the  curtain  rose,  the  house  was  well 
filled,  the  gallery  and  parquette  being  quite 
crowded. 

It  now  began  to  be  whispered  about, 
that  the  reception  of  Mr.  Macready  would 
not  be  favorable  on  the  part  of  a  portion 
of   the   auditory ;    and  the   appearance   of 


Mr.  Matsell,  the  chief-of-police,  and  a  very- 
strong  body  of  the  force  under  his  orders, 
seemed  to  strengthen  the  rumors  which 
were  prevalent.  The  house  was,  however, 
perfectly  quiet  until  the  curtain  rose  upon 
the  first  scene,  when  the  appearance  of 
Mr.  Clarke,  who  personated  the  character 
of  Malcolm,  elicited  three  loud  and  en- 
thusiastic cheers  from  the  parquette  and 
gallery.  From  this  moment,  the  cheer- 
ing, hissing,  Avhistling,  and  other  ex- 
pressions of  feeling  began,  and  not  a 
syllable  was  heard  during  the  remain- 
der of  the  scene,  and  the  succeeding,  till 
the  entrance  of  Macbeth,  passing  in  dumb 
show.  When  Macbeth  and  Banquo  en- 
tered in  the  third  scene,  the  uproar  was 
deafening.  A  perfect  torrent  of  groans 
and  hisses  assailed  Mr.  Macready,  and  a 
deluge  of  assafoetida  was  discharged  upon 
him  from  the  gallery,  filling  the  whole 
house  with  its  pungent  and  offensive  odor. 
A  rotten  egg  was  projected  against  him, 
but  missing  the  face  of  the  eminent  trage- 
dian, bespattered  the  stage  at  his  feet. 
The  friends  of  Mr.  Macready,  who  ajj- 
peared  rather  to  outnumber  those  opposed 
to  him,  now  manifested  their  feelings  by 
cries  of  "  shame  !  "  "  shame  !  "  cheers,  and 
waving  of  handkerchiefs,  provoking  a  re- 
sponse in  the  form  of  renewed  groans, 
hisses,  and  half  a  dozen  rotten  potatoes, 
on  the  part  of  the  others.  "  Three  cheers 
for  Edivln  Forrest ! "  were  called  for  by 
some  one  in  the  pit,  and  were  given  with 
great  enthusiasm  by  those  unfriendly  to 
Mr.  Macready.  Then  came  the  cry  of 
"  Three  cheers  for  Macready  !  "  which  was 
responded  to  with  equal  enthusiasm  by  the 
opposite  side  of  the  house. 

The  scene  which  followed  beggars  de- 
scription. Hisses,  groans,  cheers,  yells, 
screams,  all  sorts  of  noises,  in  the  midst  of 
which  Mr.  Macready  still  maintained  his 
position  in  the  center  of  the  stage. 
''  Off'-  "  "  off'-  "  shouted  one  party.  "  Go 
on  !  "  '^  go  on  !  "  screamed  the  other.  Mr. 
Macready  approached  the  lights.  He  was 
greeted  by  roars  of  ironical  laughter,  and 
reiterated  hisses  and  groans.  A  banner 
was  at  this  moment  exhibited  in  front  of 


510 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  amphitheater,  bearing  on  its  side,  "  No 
apologies — it  is  too  late !  "  and  on  the 
other,  "You  have  ever  proved  yourself 
a  liar  !  "  The  appearance  of  this  banner 
was  the  signal  for  a  perfect  tornado  of 
uproarious  applause,  laughter,  cheers,  and 
groans,  in  the  midst  of  which  an  old  shoe 
and  a  cent  piece  were  hurled  at  Mr. 
Macready,  who  picked  up  the  copper  coin, 
and,  with  a  kingly  air,  put  it  in  his  bosom, 
bowing,  at  the  same  time,  with  mock 
humility,  to  the  quarter  of  the  gallery 
from  which  the  visitation  had  descended. 


Lady  Macbeth,  who  was  represented  on 
this  occasion  by  Mrs.  Coleman  Pope — a 
very  beautiful  and  queenly-looking  woman 
— fared  little  better  than  her  lord.  Not  a 
.syllable  of  her  part  was  audible.  With 
great  calmness,  and  without  the  least 
wavering,  however,  this  lady  made  a  show 
of  going  through  her  part.  All  on  the 
stage  fared  alike.  It  was  evident  that 
there  was  a  fixed  and  settled  determina- 
tion on  the  part  of  that  portion  of  the 
auditory  which  occupied  nearly  one-third 
of  the  parquette,  and  the  greater  portion 
of  the  gallery,  between  whom  a  communi- 
cation was  kept  up  throughout  the  even- 
ing, by  means  of  signals  and  exclamations, 


not  to  permit  the  performance  to  proceed. 
Several  of  Mr.  Macready's  friends  now 
became  much  excited,  and  shouted  to  him 
to  "  go  on,"  and  "  not  to  give  up  the  ship," 
which  elicited  tremendous  groans,  hisses, 
and  cries  of  "  Three  groans  for  the,  codfish 
aristocracy"  which  were  responded  to  with 
marked  enthusiasm.  Cries  of  "  Down  tvith 
the  Englisli  hog  !  " — "  Take  off  the  Devon- 
shire hull!''''  —  '' Rememher  hoiv  Edivin 
Forrest  ivas  used  in  London!" — and  sim- 
ilar exclamations,  were  loud  and  frequent. 
Thus  passed  the  whole  of  the  first  and 
second  acts,  the  uproar  not  ceas- 
ing for  a  moment. 

When  the  curtain  fell,  in  the 
second  act,  the  tumult  was  fiercer 
than  ever,  and  it  was  quite  ap- 
parent that  something  still  more 
serious    was    approaching.     Yet 
the  greater  portion  of  the  audi- 
tory opposed    to    ]\Ir.    Macready 
seemed     in     excellent      humor. 
They   chanted    snatches    of    the 
witches'    choruses,    and    amused 
themselves   by  asking   repeated- 
ly,   "  Where's     Macreadij  ?  "  — 
"  Where's  Eliza  Broivn  ?  " — and 
other  interrogations  of  that  char- 
acter.     One    gentleman   in    the 
parquette,    amongst     those    who 
were   hostile    to    Mr.   Macready, 
ogled  the   house  through  a  stu- 
pendous eye-glass,  large  enough 
for  a  horse   collar ;    and    others 
threw   themselves    into  a  variety  of    atti- 
tudes    more     peculiar     than      becoming. 
"  Three    cheers    for    Macready,    Nigger 
Douglass  and  Pete  WilUams"  were  now 
called  for,  and  given  with  vehemence. 

At  length  the  curtain  rose  on  the  third 
act ;  and,  in  dumb  show,  Banquo,  advanc- 
ing to  the  lights,  commenced,  but  not 
a  syllable  was  audible.  Then  Macbeth 
reappeared,  and  the  uproar  was  greater 
than  ever.  Smash  came  a  chair  from  the 
gallery,  nearly  grazing  the  head  of  a 
member  of  the  orchestra,  and  strewing 
the  stage  with  its  fragments,  Avithin  a  few 
feet  of  Mr.  Macready.  He  bowed  and 
smiled-     Another   chair  fell   at   his   feet, 


GEEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


511 


with  a  crash  wliich  resounded  all  over  the 
house.  Some  of  the  ladies  started  from 
their  seats,  and  grew  quite  pale.  The 
shouts,  and  groans,  and  hisses,  were 
redoubled.  Mr.  Macready  stood  quite 
unmoved — not  the  slightest  tremor  visible 
— not  the  least  bravado,  either,  in  his 
manner.  Another  chair  was  hurled  on  the 
stage,  and  the  curtain  suddenly  fell.  The 
ladies  hurried  from  the  boxes — all  but  a 
few,  who  betrayed  not  the  slightest  alarm. 
Still  the  uproar  continued,  and  there  was 
loud  talking  in  the  lobbies.  A  great 
crowd  outside  thundered  at  the  doors,  and 
threatened  to  break  into  the  theater.  Mr. 
Matsell  and  a  strong  party  of  his  policemen 
barricaded  the  entrances.  The  ladies  were 
hurried  out  by  one  of  the  doors  that  open 
in  Eighth  street,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
afterwards,  Mr.  Macready,  in  a  close  car- 
riage, was  driven  rapidly  and  safely  away. 
No  person  on  the  stage  was  injured  by  any 
of  the  missiles  thrown  during  the  evening, 
but  almost  all  of  the  actors  received  a  copi- 
ous allowance  of  the  fetid  liquid  which 
was  discharged  from  the  gallery.  Some 
of  the  ladies  expressed  their  feelings  in 
favor  of  Mr.    Macready  by  waving  their 


'  4\\\\\v\-xN\V'. 


t^C^\^U. 


^ 


handkerchiefs ;  and  many  of  the  male 
audience  who  were  most  enthusiastic  in 
favor  of  Mr.  Macready,  were  Americans. 

During  the  pantomime  ujjon  the  stage, 
the  American  actors  playing  with  Macready 
were  frequently  warned  by  the  people  in 


the  gallery  to  "  go  off  the  stage,"  or  expect 
similar  treatment  hereafter.  In  conse- 
quence of  these  warnings,  after  the  play 
was  suspended,  Mr.  C.  W.  Clarke  appeared 
in  front  of  the  curtain,  as  an  apologist ; 
he  remarked  that  his  family  was  depend- 
ent on  his  exertions  for  a  maintenance, 
and  he  pleaded  this  fact  in  justification  of 
himself  for  having  consented  to  play  with 
Mr.  Macready.  Mr.  Clarke's  exj)lanation 
was  cordially  received  ;  and  when  it  was 
found  that  the  performance  had  been 
effectually  interrupted,  and  that  jMr. 
Macready  had  abandoned  the  effort  to 
proceed  with  the  play,  the  vast  and  excited 
crowd,  within  and  without,  began  to  dis- 
perse, and,  about  twenty  minutes  past  ten 
o'clock,  the  whole  scene  was  perfectly 
quiet. 

But  the  end  was  not  yet.  Another  cur- 
tain was  to  rise,  and  a  tragedy — not  in 
pantomime,  but  in  dread  reality — was  to 
be  enacted  to  the  bloody  end.  Regretting 
the  abandonment  of  his  engagement  by 
Mr.  Macready,  and  especiallj-  deprecating 
the  violence  which  led  to  that  determina- 
tion on  his  part,  a  large  number  of  the 
leading  gentlemen  of  New  York,  headed 
by  Washington  Irving,  addressed  a  note 
to  Mr.  Macready,  urging  the  fulfillment  of 
his  original  plan,  and  assuring  him  that  the 
good  sense  and  respect  for  order  character- 
izing the  community  would  sustain  him. 
This  request  was  acceded  to,  and  the 
evening  of  May  tenth  appointed  for  the 
performance.  Unfortunately,  the  publica- 
tion of  this  correspondence  was  regarded 
as  an  open  challenge  to  the  other  party ; 
placards  were  circulated  that  the  crew  of 
the  Cunard  (English)  steamer  America 
were  resolved  to  sustain  their  countrymen 
with  arms ;  and  the  calling  out  of  the  mil- 
itary by  the  mayor  on  Thursday  afternoon, 
as  a  measure  of  precaution  for  the  evening, 
added  fuel  to  the  flame.  It  became  evi- 
dent throughout  the  day  that  there  would 
be  a  serious  collision  between  the  rioters 
and  the  military,  in  the  event  of  the 
former  attempting  to  execute  their  threats 
against  Mr.  Macready. 

As  early  as  half-past  six  o'clock,  persons 


512 


OUE  FIKST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


began  to  assemble  around  the  theater ; 
and,  at  about  seven,  crowds  were  seen 
wending  their  yvay  to  the  theater  from  all 
parts  of  the  city.  By  half-past  seven, 
there  was  a  multitude  in  the  streets,  in 
front  of  the  opera-house,  and  the  rush  to 
get  admittance  was  tremendous.  Tickets 
for  a  sufficient  number  to  fill  the  house 
were  soon  sold,  and  the  announcement 
made  on  a  placard  that  no  more  would  be 
sold.  Meantime,  the  crowd  outside  was 
tremendous,  and  increasing  every  minute. 
Every  avenue  to  the  theater  soon  became 
densely  crowded.  Astor  Phxce  was  occu- 
pied by  an  immense  assemblage,  almost  all 
of  whom  had  apparently  been  attracted 
by  curiosit3^  The  portion  of  the  Bowery 
adjoining  the  theater  was  also  crowded, 
and,  in  Broadway,  which  had  at  that  point 
been  opened  for  the  purpose  of  construct- 
ing a  sewer,  hundreds  of  j)ersons  were  seen 
crowded  together  on  the  top  of  the  mound 
of  earth  thrown  up  from  the  center  of  the 
street. 

The  house  itself  was  filled  to  the  dome. 
A  great  portion  of  the  assemblage  in  the 
theater  consisted  of  policemen,  who  had 
been  distributed  all  over  the  house  in  de- 
tached parties.  There  was  not  any  appear- 
ance of  an  organized  party  of  rioters  in 
the  house.  When  the  curtain  rose,  there 
was  an  outburst  of  hisses,  groans,  cheers, 
and  miscellaneous  sounds.  The  opening 
scenes,  however,  were  got  through  with 
after  a  fashion,  several  persons  who  hissed 
ajid  hooted  having  been  seized  by  the 
police,  and  immediately  conveyed  to  an 
apartment  underneath  the  boxes,  where 
they  were  placed  in  confinement.  Mac- 
ready's  appearance  was  the  signal  for  a 
great  explosion  of  feeling.  Hisses,  groans, 
shouts  of  derision,  assailed  him,  intermin- 
gled with  loud  cries  of  "  Out  ivith  him!^^ 
"  Out  with  hi)/i  !  "  Large  numbers  of  the 
auditory  started  to  their  feet,  and  called 
on  tlie  police  to  eject  the  individuals  who 
had  expressed  their  disapprobation,  and 
several  arrests  were  made  in  the  manner 
already  described,  eacli  arrest  being  fol- 
lowed by  loud  cheers  and  applause  all  over 
the  house. 


Thus  the  play  proceeded  through  the 
first  two  acts.  There  had  been  a  great 
deal  of  trepidation  behind  the  scenes,  but 
the  heroism  with  which  the  actors  and 
actresses  sustained  themselves  on  the 
stage,  elicited  much  praise.  The  manner 
of  Mrs.  Pope,  the  Lady  Macbeth  of  this 
melancholy  night,  was  especially  com- 
mended. It  was,  indeed,  a  trying  scene- 
Mr.  Macready  repeatedly  expressed  to 
Mr.  Hackett,  his  wish  to  desist,  and  his 
desire  to  avoid  any  further  collision  with 
those  who  were  opposed  to  his  appearance  ; 
but,  amid  the  shouts,  groans,  liisses,  and 
arrests  by  the  police,  the  play  went  on, 
much  of  it  in  dumb  show,  but  portions  of 
it  without  material  interruption.  It  was 
supposed,  at  this  moment,  that  the  tumult 
would  be  effectually  quelled,  for  the  dis- 
turbance in  the  house  became  less  and 
less,  and  even  some  passages  of  Mr. 
Macready' s  part  were  heard  with  a  tolera- 
ble degree  of  order. 

The  first  persons  arrested  in  the  par- 
quette  were  four  ^''oung  men,  who  were 
locked  up  in  the  temporary  prison  under 
the  boxes.  In  this  apartment  was  a  gas- 
light burning,  and  the  prisoners,  pulling 
up  some  shavings  and  pieces  of  wood,  set 
fire  to  them.  When  the  policemen  opened 
the  door,  the  place  was  full  of  smoke,  but 
the  officers  speedily  extinguished  the  fire. 
The  prisoners  who  had  attempted  this 
atrocious  crime  were  immediately  put  in 
irons.  At  this  moment  a  shower  of  stones 
assailed  the  windows  of  the  theater ;  and 
news  soon  came  in  from  the  street,  that  a 
man  named  Judson  was  heading  the  mob 
outside,  and  calling  upon  them  to  stone 
the  building.  The  chief-of-police  at  once 
ordered  his  arrest,  which  was  promptly 
effected.  In  the  meantime,  the  assault 
upon  the  doors  and  windows  was  continued, 
volley  after  volley  of  large  paving  stones 
being  discharged  against  them.  The 
glass  was,  of  course,  in  a  few  moments, 
broken  to  atoms  ;  but,  having  been  barri- 
caded, the  windows  resisted  the  attack  for 
some  minutes.  Yielding  at  last,  however, 
— the  fragments  of  glass,  and  blinds,  and 
barricades,  being  driven  with  violence  into 


GllEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


513 


the  body  of  tlie  house, — great  ahirm  began 
to  pervade  the  audience.  Humors  of  all 
kind?* — that  the  house  was  to  be  fired, — 
that  it  was  to  be  blown  up, — and  so  on, 
were  circula'^ed.  The  ladies,  seven  in 
number,  who  were  present,  and  who,  with 
a  heroism  creditable  to  their  sex,  had  till 
this  moment  preserved  their  equanimity, 
now  became  alarmed,  and  shifted  their 
seats  to  the  least  exposed  positions. 

And  now,  the  scene  being  enacted  was 
most  exciting.  In  front  and  rear,  tlie  fierce 
assaults  of  the  mob,  as  they  thundered  at 
the  doors,  resounded  all  over  the  theater, 
whilst  the  shouts  and  yells  of  the  assail- 


Tites  afterwards,  two  troops  of  cavah-y,  of 
the  first  division  of  the  state  militia,  and 
a  battalion  of  the  national  guards,  were 
seen  a])proaching  the  place  of  the  riot. 

A  troop  of  horse  now  turned  from 
Broadway  into  Astor  Place,  and  rode 
through  the  crowd  to  the  Bowery,  receiv- 
ing showers  of  stones  and  other  missiles, 
on  their  way.  The  horses  became  unman- 
ageable, and  the  troop  did  not  again  mahe 
its  appearance  on  the  ground.  In  a  few 
minutes  afterwards,  the  national  guard, 
one  of  the  independent  volunteer  compa- 
nies of  the  city,  made  their  appearance  on 
the  ground,  and  attempted  to  force  a  pas- 


ASTOR  PLACH   OPERA-HOUSE  RIOTS. 


ants  were  terrific.  Inside,  however,  all 
was  comparatively  quiet.  The  police 
arrested  summarily  the  leading  rioters  in 
the  house,  and,  making  sorties  among  the 
crowd  outside,  secured  many  of  the  ring- 
leaders of  the  mob. 

As  the  mob  increased  in  magnitude 
and  in  the  ferocity  with  which  they  assailed 
the  building,  the  cry  arose,  "  JVhere  are 
the  military/?''  "  Can  nothing  he  done  to 
dlspei'se  the  rioters  ? "  "  Where's  the 
maj/or?"  Several  dispatches  M'ere  sent 
to  the  City  hall,  where  the  militarj'-  were 
stationed.  At  length,  about  nine  o'clock, 
the  sound  of  a  troop  of  cavalry  coming  up 

Broadway  was  heard  ;  and  in  a  few  min- 
33 


sage  through  the  crowd  to  the  theater. 
The  mob  hissed  and  hooted  at  them,  and 
finally  attacked  them  with  stones,  which 
were  at  hand  in  consequence  of  the  build- 
ing of  the  sewer  in  the  vicinit3\  The  com- 
pany were  at  this  i)eriod  thrown  into  dis- 
order by  the  attack  made  wpon  them,  and 
retired  to  Broadway,  where  they  rallied, 
and  made  another  attempt  to  reach  the 
theater.  They  were  liissed  and  pelted  as 
before,  with  stones,  but  they  succeeded  in 
gaining  the  desired  point.  They  then 
endeavored  to  form  in  line  on  the  sidewalk, 
and  while  doing  so,  five  or  six  of  them, 
including  the  captain  of  the  company,  were 
felled  to  the  ground  by  paving  stones,  and 


514 


OUR  FIEST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


taken  insensible  into  the  theater.  The 
next  officer  in  command  then  said  to  the 
sheriff,  wlio  was  on  tlie  ground,  tliat  if 
orders  did  not  come  to  fire,  he  and  his 
men  would  abandon  the  streets.  Accord- 
ingly, the  officer  directed  the  company  to 
fire  around  over  the  heads  of  the  people, 
which  was  done,  but  without  effect.  The 
multitude  continued  to  pelt  them  with 
paving  stones,  as  before.  An  order  was 
then  given  to  the  company  to  fire  at  the 
crowd,  and  it  was  done,  two  men  falling, 
one  shot  in  the  arm,  and  the  other  through 
the  right  cheek.  The  first  was  sent  to  the 
hospital,  but  the  other  was  found  to  be 
dead.  After  the  volley,  the  mob  re- 
treated a  short  distance,  but  rallied  and 
renewed  the  attack  with  greater  vigor  than 
before.  Paving  stones  and  other  missiles 
were  discharged  at  them  in  great  quanti- 
ties ;  and  while  the  mob  was  going  on, 
another  volley  was  fired  by  the  military, 
killing  and  wounding  several  more. 

After  this  volley,  the  crowd  reti'eated 
again,  and  the  military  and  the  police  took 
advantage  of  it  to  form  a  line  across  the 
street  at  both  ends  of  Astor  Place,  so  as  to 
prevent  any  connection  between  Broadway 
and  the  Bowery.  General  Sandford  then 
issued  an  order  for  more  troops  and  two 
brass  pieces  loaded  with  grape  to  be 
brought  to  the  scene  immediatelj',  as  it 
was  rumored  that  the  crowd  intended  to 
arm  themselves  and  renew  the  attack. 
Before  the  volleys  were  discharged.  Gen- 
eral Sandford  several  times  called  out  to 
the  crowd,  that  they  must  hold  back,  or 
the  troops  would  fire  ;  and,  on  the  sheriff 
at  last  giving  the  order,  General  Hall 
exclaimed,  '■^  Five  over  their  headsP  The 
order  to  fire  was  repeated  by  GciuM-al 
Sandford  and  Colonel  Durj'ea,  and  the 
men  fired  over  the  heads  of  the  mob, 
against  the  walls  of  a  house.  A  shout  was 
then  made  by  the  mob,  "  They  have  only 
blank  rarfridf/es — r/ive  it  tothevi  again !^'' 
and  another  volley  of  stones  followed 
instantly.     The  troops  were  then  ordered 


by  General  Sandford  and  Colonel  Durvea, 
to  fire  again,  General  Hall  saying,  '^Flre 
loii;"  and  then,  for  the  first  time,  the  mob 
began  to  give  way.  The  troops  thereupon 
moved  forward  and  crossed  the  street, 
driving  the  crowd  before  them,  until  the 
troops  got  near  to  the  corner  of  Lafa^-ette 
Place.  The  mob  rallied  at  the  corner  of 
Lafaj'ette  Place  on  one  side,  and  at  the 
corner  of  the  theater  and  broken  ground 
at  the  opposite  side,  and  advanced  again 
with  fresh  showers  of  stones  on  the  trooj^s. 
Several  of  the  military  were  hurt  severely 
by  this  second  attack,  and  orders  were 
given  to  the  troops  to  fire,  one-half 
obliquely  to  the  right,  and  one-half  ob- 
liquely to  the  left,  on  those  two  bodies. 
This  was  done,  and  the  crowd  fell  back  to 
Lafayette  Place,  and  bej'ond  the  broken 
ground  behind  the  theater.  There  was  no 
firing  after  this  by  the  troops,  but  the 
mob  kept  up  constant  attacks. 

The  number  of  lives  lost  in  this  terrible 
occurrence  was  twentj'-two,  and  a  large 
number  were  wounded.  The  whole  number 
of  military  engaged  in  the  conflict  was 
about  two  hundred  and  ten,  one-half  in  the 
line  of  Broadwa}',  and  the  other  in  the 
line  towards  the  Bowery.  The  mob  was 
estimated  by  some  as  high  as  twenty  thou- 
sand ;  but,  on  account  of  the  street  lights 
having  been  put  out,  it  was  exceedingly 
dark,  and  nothing  could  be  seen  but  a 
dense  mass  of  people,  swaj'ing  and  surg- 
ing like  a  troubled  sea,  while  hoarse 
shouts  and  wild  cheers  and  curses  rent 
the  air. 

The  element  of  personal  animosity 
between  these  two  distinguished  histrionic 
cliaracters,  had,  beyond  all  question,  ob- 
tained deep  root,  and,  in  addition  to  this, 
appeal  was  made  by  their  friends,  respec- 
tively, to  the  prejudices  of  nationality,  and 
thus  the  reception  accorded  Mr.  Macready 
differed  widelj'  fx-om  that  which  greeted 
him  on  his  previous  visit  to  America.  Mr. 
Macready,  soon  after  this  tragedy,  left  for 
England. 


LX. 
AWFUL  VISITATIONS  OF  THE  "ANGEL  OF  DEATH."— 1849. 


Yellow  Fever  and  Cholera  Epidemics  at  Different  Periods. — Friglitful  Mortality  and  Panic  in  1849. — 
Business  Abandoned,  Churches  Closed,  Streets  Barricaded,  Cities  Deserted — Proclamation  by  the 
President  of  the  United  States. — Tiie  Virtues,  Passions,  and  Vices  of  Human  Nature  Strikingly  Illus- 
trated.— Tens  of  Thousands  Swept  at  Once  from  the  Face  of  the  Earth. — Various  Eras  of  American 
Epidemics. — Wide  and  Ghastly  Ravages. — Self-Preservation  the  First  Law. — Social  Intercourse  Sus- 
pended.— Ties  of  affection  Sundered  — Parents  Forsake  Children. — Husbands  Flee  from  Wives  —  Bich 
Men  Buried  like  Paupers. — Money  and  Rank  Unavailing. — Rumble  of  the  Dead-Carts. — Activity  in  the 
Grave-yards. — They  Look  as  if  Plowed  Up. — Women  in  Childbirth  Helpless. — Their  Screams  for 
Succor. — Care  of  a  Lunatic  Patient. — The  Tender  Passion  Still  Alive. — Courageous  Marriages. 
— Death  in  the  Bridal  Chamber. — Anecdotes  of  the  Clergy. — Crime,  Filth,  and  Disease. — Quacks  and 
Nostrums  Rife. — The  Celebrated  "  Thieves'  Vinegar." 


'Bring  out  your  deadl"-CRT  of  the  Dead-Cart  Drivehs. 


UAKER  order,  cleanliness,  and  temperance,  so  characteristic  of  the 
"city  of  brotherly  love,"  did  not  save  Philadelphia  from  being  vis- 
ited, at  an  early  period  after  the  founding  of  the  republic,  by  one  of 
the  most  direful  scourges  that  ever  was  known  in  the  western  world. 
This  was  the  yellow  fever,  or  "  plague,"  in  1793,  an  epidemic  which, 
from  its  remarkable  nature  and  develojDment,  is  entitled  to 
the  first  mention  in  an  article  like  this,  and  reminiscences  of 
which  —  deeply  interesting  and  indeed  in  some  instances 
'ififi)  almost  tragical — will   be  found  in  the  highest  degree 

readable,  at  the  present  day. 

,„  __^ Following   this,  was    the    malignant   spotted 

iiP.rr^=rv:^  -  ^  fever,  in  which  the  patient  had  large  red  spots 
'''(ll'i'/Mdr^  here  and  there  ;  it  broke  out  in  Massachusetts, 
'iSlllf    in  1806  and  continued  until  1815,  in  the  various 


northern  states.     In   1812,   the  United    States 


STUUf'K    WITH   THE   CH0LnR.\.. 


It>,  army  in  New  York  and  Vermont  suffered  se- 
r_  verely  from  it.  In  the  latter  state,  it  was  the 
most  alarming  disease  ever  known.  It  usually 
attacked  persons  of  the  most  hardy  and  robust 
constitution,  and  often  proved  fatal  in  a  few 
hours ;  not  uncommonly,  the  patient  was  a 
corpse  before  a  physician  could  be  brought  to  his 
assistance. 

In  1822,  the  yellow  fever  appeared  again   in 
New  York,  with  great  virulence,  after  an  inter- 


516 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


mission  of  some  seventeen  years,  and 
though  the  mortality  was  much  less  exten- 
sive than  previously,  the  panic  was  even 
sharper, — the  city  south  of  the  park  being 
fenced  off  and  nearly  deserted,  families, 
merchants,  banks,  and  even  the  city  gov- 
ernment removing  to  a  distance.  But  in 
1833-5,  the  disease  was  far  more  virulent. 

In  1832,  the  Asiatic  cliolera,  or  cholera 
asphyxia,  made  its  appearance  in  the 
United  States  for  the  first  time,  coming 
by  way  of  Canada.  Following  the  course 
of  the  large  rivers,  it  soon  reached  Buffalo, 
and  then  spread  irregularly,  occurring  in 
towns  and  cities  at  distances  from  each 
other,  without  affecting  intervening  dis- 
tricts till  a  subsequent  period.  In  the 
city  of  New  York,  it  appeared  June  27th, 
and  continued  two  months,  during  which 
period  there  were  three  thousand  four  hun- 
dred deaths.  In  Albany,  it  showed  itself 
at  the  same  time  as  in  New  Y'ork  ;  and 
while  its  fury  was  abating  in  the  latter 
place,  it  began  to  appear  in  its  most  for- 
midable shape  in  Philadelphia,  and  in  a 
few  weeks  a  thousand  fell  victims.  About 
the  same  mortality  occurred  in  Baltimore 
and  Washington,  which  cities  the  con- 
tagion soon  reached.  It  commenced  in 
Cincinnati  in  July,  became  epidemic  in 
September,  and  continued  through  most 
of  the  summer  of  1833.  In  the  southern 
states,  it  made  great  havoc  amongst  the 
slave  population,  who  fell  ready  and  easy 
subjects  of  its  power.  Fatal,  beyond  all 
precedent,  was  the  malady,  in  New  Orleans 
and  St.  Louis.  The  middle  states  never 
before  knew  so  terrible  a  visitation. 

From  the  north,  the  disease  also  ex- 
tended itself  along  the  borders  of  the 
great  lakes,  and  soon  its  ravages  began  at 
Detroit.  The  six  eastern  states  escaped 
with  only  a  few  cases,  principally  in  the 
port  towns  of  Massachusetts,  Rhode  Island, 
and  Connecticut. 

And  now  again,  this  awful  scourge  re- 
appeared, in  1849,  to  blast  the  land  with 
death  on  every  side,  carrying  terror  to 
every  home  and  heart,  and  sweeping  tens 
of  thousands  into  the  grave  In  New 
Orleans,  it  broke  out  about  the  middle  of 


December,  1848,  and  continued  through 
the  winter.  So  frightful  were  its  devasta- 
tions, that  it  is  estimated  to  have  deci- 
mated the  inhabitants  that  remained  in 
some  wards  of  the  city.  The  raging  pesti- 
lence appeared  in  New  Y'ork  in  IMay,  and, 
so  violent  was  its  spread,  that  during  the 
week  ending  July  21st,  more  than  seven 
hundred  deaths  occurred ;  the  mortalitj'' 
that  week  was  the  greatest^that  had  ever 
taken  place  in  any  city  in  the  United 
States,  the  deaths  by  all  diseases  number- 
ing more  than  fourteen  hundred.  In 
Boston,  the  deaths  from  cholera,  during 
June,  July,  August,  and  September,  were 
rising  six  hundred.  But  it  was  far  more 
terrible  in  Cincinnati  and  St.  Louis,  the 
victims  in  each  of  these  cities  being  up- 
wards of  six  thousand.  Over  all  the  mid- 
dle and  western  states,  this  Angel  of  Death 
spread  his  destroying  wings,  and  in  many 
parts  of  New  England.  The  third  day  of 
August,  1849,  Avas,  in  view  of  the  terrible 
scourge  thus  stalking  mightily  over  the 
broad  land,  appointed  by  the  president  of 
the  United  States  as  a  day  of  fasting  and 
prayer,  that  God  would  "  avert  the  i)esti- 
lence  that  walketh  in  darkness  and  the 
destruction  that  wasteth  at  noonday." 

Again,  in  1853,  terror  and  panic  seized 
the  land,  from  another  visitation  of  the 
yellow  fever  or  plague.  It  spent  its  chief 
force  upon  that  oft-doomed  city.  New  Or- 
leans, where,  in  the  short  space  of  three 
months,  ten  per  cent,  of  the  whole  popu- 
lation fell  victims. 

Concerning  the  origin,  or  producing 
causes,  of  these  epidemics,  authorities 
have  differed  so  widel}-,  that  little  of  a 
conclusive  character,  on  these  points,  can 
be  presented  ;  and  the  same  may  be  said 
respecting  the  modes  of  treatment.  IMuch, 
however,  that  is  interesting  as  well  as 
profitable,  relative  to  these  awful  visita- 
tions, may  be  learned  from  the  various 
phenomena  and  incidents  that  accompa- 
nied them. 

In  no  other  place,  perhaps,  were  the 
manifestations  and  effects  of  a  deathly 
epidemic  upon  human  conduct  exhibited 
more  strikingly  than  in  the  city  of  Phila- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


il7 


delphia.  The  dread  of  the  contagion  drove 
parents  from  tlieir  children,  and  even 
wives  from  their  husbands.  All  the  ties 
of  affection  and  consanguinity  were  rent 
asunder,  and  luimanity  was  left  to  mourn 
over  its  own  selfishness,  iu  the  ardor  of 
self-preservation. 

Such  was  the  degree  of  consternation, 
dismay  and  affright,  which  possessed 
people's   minds,    that,    according    to    Mr. 


were  afraid  to  allow  the  barbers  or  hair- 
dressers to  come  near  them,  as  instances 
liad  occurred  of  some  of  them  havin<r 
shaved  the  dead,  and  many  having  en- 
gaged as  bleeders.  Some,  who  carried 
their  caution  pretty  far,  bought  lancets 
for  themselves,  not  daring  to  allow  them- 
selves to  be  bled  with  the  lancets  of  the 
bleeders.  Many  lionses  were  scaicely  a 
moment  free  from  the  smell  of  gunpowder, 


MONUMENT  TO  THE  VICTIMS  OF  CHOLEEA. 


Carey,  the  historian  of  that  period,  most 
of  the  inhabitants  who  could,  by  any 
means,  make  it  convenient,  fled  from  the 
city.  Of  those  who  remained,  many  shut 
themselves  up  in  their  houses,  being  afraid 
to  walk  the  streets.  The  smoke  of  tobacco 
being  regarded  as  a  preventive,  many 
persons,  even  women  and  small  boys,  had 
segars  almost  constantly  in  their  mouths. 
Others,  placing  full  confidence  in  garlic, 
chewed  it  almost  the  whole  day ;  some 
kept  it  in  their  pockets  and  shoes.     Many 


burned  tobacco,  spi'inkled  vinegar,  etc. 
Churches,  libraries,  and  other  places  of 
public  resort,  were  closed.  Those  persons 
who  ventured  abroad  had  handkerchiefs, 
or  sponges,  impregnated  with  vinegar  or 
camphor,  at  their  noses  ;  some  had  smell- 
ing bottles  full  of  thieves'  vinegar.  Others 
carried  pieces  of  tarred  rope  in  their  hands 
and  pockets,  also  camphor  bags  tied  around 
their  necks.  The  corpses  of  the  most  re- 
spectable citizens,  even  of  those  who  had 
not  died  of  the  epidemic,  were  carried  to 


as 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


tlie  grave  on  tlie  shafts  of  a  chair,  the  horse 
driven  by  a  negro,  unattended  by  a  friend 
or  reUition,  and  without  any  sort  of  cere- 
mony. People  uniformly  and  hastily  shift- 
ed their  course  at  the  sight  of  a  hearse 
coming  towards  them.  ]\Iany  never  walked 
on  the  foot-path,  but  went  in  the  middle 
of  the  streets,  to  avoid  being  infected  in 
passing  houses  wherein  people  had  died. 
Acquaintances  and  friends  avoided  each 
other  in  the  streets,  and  only  signified 
their  regard  by  a  cold  nod.  The  old 
custom  of  shaking  hands  fell  into  such 
general  disuse,  that  many  recoiled  with 
affright  at  even  the  offer  of  a  hand.  A 
person  wearing  crape,  or  having  any  other 
appearance  of  mourning,  was  shunned  like 
a  viper;  and  many  congratulated  them- 
selves highly  on  the  skill  and  address  with 
which  they  got  to  windward  of  every 
person  whom  they  met.  When,  too,  the 
citizens,  summoning  sufficient  resolution, 
walked  abroad  to  take  the  air,  the  sight  of 
the  sick-cart  conveying  patients  to  the 
hospital,  or  the  hearse  carrj-ing  the  dead 
to  the  grave, — which  were  traveling  al- 
most the  whole  day, — soon  damped  their 
spirits,  and  caused  them  to  retrace  their 
steps  and  seek  seclusion.  These  manifest- 
ations and  characteristics  prevailed  alike 
during  the  yellow  fever  and  the  cholera. 
Consternation  was  carried  beyond  all 
bounds.  Men  of  affluent  fortunes  were 
abandoned  to  the  care  of  any  stranger, 
black  or  white,  who  could  by  entreaty  be 
procured.  In  some  cases,  no  money  or 
influence  could  procure  proper  attendance. 
With  the  poor,  the  case  was,  of  course, 
immeasurabl}'^  worse  than  with  the  rich. 
Many  of  them  })erished,  without  a  human 
being  to  hand  them  a  drink  of  water,  or 
to  perform  any  medical  or  charitable  office. 
Some  of  the  horrible  and  heart-rending 
occurrences,  which  transpired  during  these 
visitations  of  yellow  fever  and  cholera, 
will  suffice  better  than  any  discussions  of 
symptoms  and  treatment,  or  any  mere 
general  representations  of  the  public  ter- 
ror and  panic,  to  show  the  nature  of  the 
calamities  that  thus  swept  over  the  land, 
carrying    desolation    and    anguish    to    so 


many  happy  homes.  The  following  are 
some  of  the  instances  referred  to,  as  rela- 
ted by  Carey,  Simpson,  and  others. 

An  old  grave  digger,  named  Sebastian, 
who  had  long  lost  the  sense  of  smelling, 
fancied  he  could  not  take  the  disorder,  and 
therefore  followed  his  business  without 
apprehension.  A  husband  and  his  wife, 
who  lay  sick  together,  wished  to  be  in- 
terred in  the  same  grave.  Their  deaths 
happened  within  a  few  days  of  each  other. 
When  the  latter  of  the  two  was  to  be 
buried,  Sebastian  was  emploj-ed  to  dig 
open  the  other's  grave.  He  struck  upon 
and  broke  the  coffin,  and  in  stooping  down, 
inhaled  such  an  intolerable  and  deadly 
stench,  that  he  was  taken  sick  immedi- 
ately, and  in  a  day  or  two  died. 

A  man  and  his  wife,  once  in  affluent 
circumstances,  were  found  lying  dead  in 
bed,  and  between  them  was  their  child,  a 
little  infant,  who  was  sucking  its  mother's 
breast.  How  long  they  had  lain  thus,  was 
uncertain. 

Peculiar  in  its  sadness,  was  the  case  of 
a  woman,  whose  husband  had  just  died  of 
the  disease;  she  was  seized  with  the  pains 
of  parturition,  and  had  nobody  to  assist 
her,  as  the  women  in  the  neighborhood 
were  afraid  to  go  into  the  house.  She  ]ny, 
for  a  considerable  time,  in  a  condition  of 
anguish  truly  indescribable ;  at  length, 
she  struggled  to  reach  the  window,  and 
cried  out  for  assistance.  Two  men,  j^ass- 
ing  by,  went  up  stairs  ;  but  they  came  at 
too  late  a  stage — for  she  was  even  tlien 
striving  with  death — and  actually,  in  a 
few  minutes,  exj^ired  in  their  arms. 
Another  woman,  whose  husband  and  two 
children  lay  dead  in  the  room  with  her, 
was  in  the  same  situation  as  that  of  the 
woman  just  described, — without  a  mid- 
wife, or  any  other  person  to  aid  her.  Her 
cries  at  the  window  brought  up  one  of  the 
carters  employed  for  the  relief  of  the  sick. 
With  his  assistance  she  was  delivered  of 
a  child,  which  died  in  a  few  minutes, 
as  did  the  mother,  who  was  utterly  ex- 
hausted by  her  labor,  on  account  of  the 
disorder,  and  by  the  dreadful  spectacle 
before  her.     And  thus  la}',  in  one  room, 


GREAT  AXD  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


519 


no  less   tlian  five  dead  bodies,  an  entire 
family,  carried  oft"  witliin  a  few  hours. 

Before  arrangements  could  be  made  and 
carried  out,  by  the  public  authorities,  to 
mitigate  the  severities  of  the  scourge, 
many  fell  victims,  whose  lives  would  oth- 
erwise, probably,  have  been  saved.  A 
servant  girl,  belonging  to  a  family  in 
which  the  malady  had  prevailed,  becom- 
ing apprehensive  of  what  might  be  her 
own  fate,  resolved  to  remove  to  a  relation's 
house,  some  distance  in  the  country.  She 
was,  however,  taken  sick  on  the  road,  and 
returned  to  town,  wliere  she  could  find  no 
per^iou  willing  to  receive  her.     One  of  the 


inquired  into  the  state  of  affairs.  The 
other,  to  indulge  the  contemj»tible  pro- 
pensity of  hoaxing,  told  him,  that  a  coffin- 
maker,  who  had  been  employed  by  the 
committee  fur  the  relief  of  the  sick,  had 
found  such  a  decrease  of  demand  two 
weeks  before,  that  he  had  a  large  supply  of 
coffins  on  hand ;  but  that  the  mortality 
had  again  so  far  increased,  that  he  had 
sold  all,  and  had  seven  journe^^men  em- 
l^loyed  day  and  night.  Alarmed  at  this 
information,  the  merchant  and  his  family 
instantly  turned  back. 

Several  instances  occurred,  of  the  drivers 
of  the  hospital  wagons,  on   their  arrival  to 


UORROES   OF  THE 


guardians  of  the  poor  provided  a  cart,  and 
took  her  to  the  almshouse,  into  which  she 
was  refused  admittance.  She  was  brought 
back,  but  the  guardian  could  not  procure 
her  a  single  night's  lodging  ;  and  at  last, 
after  every  effort  to  procure  some  kind 
of  shelter,  the  unfortunate  creature  abso- 
lutely expired  in  the  cart. 

Of  the  various  incidents  partaking  of 
the  extravagant  and  farcical,  much  might 
be  related,  A  merchant  of  Philadelphia, 
wlio  had  been  absent  for  several  weeks, 
was  returning  to  the  city  in  the  second 
week  of  November,  having  heard  that  the 
danger  \vas  no  more.  He  met  a  man  on 
the  road  going  from  the  city,  and. naturally 


GREAT  EPIDEMIC. 

deliver  up  their  charge,  finding,  to  theii 
amazement,  the  wagons  empty.  A  lunatic, 
who  had  the  malignant  disorder,  was  ad- 
vised, by  his  neighbors,  to  go  to  the  fever 
hospital.  He  consented,  and  got  into  the 
cart;  but  soon  changing  his  mind,  he 
slipped  out  at  the  end,  unknown  to  the 
carter,  who,  after  a  while,  missing  him, 
and  seeing  him  at  a  distance  running  away, 
turned  his  horse  about,  and  trotted  hard 
after  him.  The  other  doubled  his  pace, 
and  the  carter  whipped  his  horse  to  a  gallop ; 
but  the  agile  lunatic  turned  a  corner,  and 
adroitly  hid  himself  in  a  house,  leaving  the 
mortified  carter  to  return,  and  deliver  an 
account  of  his  ludicrous  adventure. 


520 


OUE  FIRST  CENT UllY.— 1776-1876. 


Tlie  wife  of  a  man  who  lived  in  Walnut 
street,  Philadelphia,  was  seized  with  the 
disease,  and  giv^en  over  by  the  doctors. 
The  husband  abandoned  her,  and  next 
night  lay  out  of  the  house  for  fear  of  catch- 
ing the  infection.  In  the  morning,  taking 
it  for  granted,  from  the  very  low  state  she 
had  been  in,  that  she  was  dead,  he  pur- 
chased a  coffin  for  her;  but  on  entering 
tlie  house,  what  was  his  astonisliment  to 
find  her  much  recovered.  He  himself, 
however,  fell  sick  shortly  after,  died,  and 
was  buried  in  the  very  coffin  which  he  had 
so  precipitately  bought  for  his  wife.  An- 
other example  under  this  class,  though 
with  one  or  two  important  points  of  differ- 
ence, is  the  following:  A  woman,  whose 
husband  died,  refused  to  have  him  buried 
in  a  coffin  provided  for  her  by  one  of  her 
friends,  as  too  paltry  and  mean  ;  she  there- 
fore bought  an  elegant  and  costly  one,  and 
had  the  other  laid  by  in  the  3'ard.  In  a 
week  she  was  herself  a  corpse,  and  was 
buried  in  the  very  coffin  she  had  rejected. 

The  powers  of  the  god  of  love  might  be 
imagined  to  lie  dormant  amidst  such  scenes 
of  distress  as  were  exhibited  at  the  hos- 
pitals, during  this  period.  But  his  sway 
was  felt  there  with  equal  force  as  an_y- 
where  else.  Tluis  it  was,  that  John  John- 
son and  Priscilla  Hicks,  two  patients  in 
the  public  hospital,  who  had  recovered, 
and  then  officiated  as  nurses  to  the  sick, 
were  smitten  with  each  other's  charms, 
and,  procuring  leave  of  absence  for  an  hour 
or  two,  went  to  the  city,  were  joined  in  the 
bands  of  matrimony,  and  returned  to  their 
avocation  at  the  hospital.  Another  adven- 
ture of  the  same  kind,  was  that  of  Nassy, 
a  Portuguese  mulatto,  who  took  to  wife 
Hannah  Smith,  a  bouncing  German  girl, 
employed,  like  himself,  as  a  nurse.  An 
instance  of  similar  attachment  is  related  as 
having  occurred  in  New  Orleans,  when 
the  epidemic  was  at  its  height,  and  the 
whole  city  was  sunk  in  grief  and  mourn- 
ing. A  smiling  happy  couple  appeared 
one  morning  before  a  Catholic  clergyman, 
and  requested  him  to  proclaim  the  bans  of 
their  marriage  the  next  day.  Tlie  rever- 
end   gentleman    was    surprised    tliat    any 


persons  should  desire  to  get  married  at 
such  a  time  of  general  misery  and  distress, 
and  urged  the  couple  that  they  should 
postpone  it  until  the  epidemic  was  over. 
But  they  declined  doing  so,  and  the  priest, 
indignant  at  what  he  considered  ill-timed 
levity,  turned  away,  and  positively  refuse  d 
to  officiate  in  their  behalf,  stating  that  he 
was  too  busy  attending  the  sick  and  ad- 
ministering the  last  consolations  to  the 
dying.  The  impatient  pair  next  proceeded 
to  the  clergyman  of  St.  Patrick's,  who 
exhibited  a  like  surprise  at  the  urgenc}'  (  f 
the  parties,  and  at  first  refused  to  sanction 
such  a  marriage,  but  yielded  at  last  to 
their  importunities.  After  due  publica- 
tion of  the  bans  they  were  married,  and 
retired  to  their  new  home  to  spend  the 
lionej'moon.  In  a  few  days,  the  bridal 
chamber  presented  a  solemn  and  affecting 
spectacle.  The  dead  body  of  the  husband 
lay  on  a  couch,  and  the  young  and  lovely 
bride  writhed  in  agony  on  the  bed  ;  she 
quickly  followed  him,  and  their  honeymoon 
was  passed  in  another  world. 

Notwithstanding  the  devotedness  and 
self-sacrifice  of  the  clergy,  generally  speak- 
ing, during  these  calamities,  and  the 
number  who  thus  lost  their  lives,  there 
was  occasionally  an  exception.  An  anec- 
dote, illustrating  this  fact,  used  to  be 
related  by  the  Hon.  Edward  Livingston, 
who  was  mayor  of  New  York,  vhile  tlie 
plague  raged  in  that  city,  and  whidi  will 
bear  repetition  :  The  violence  of  the  epi- 
demic was  beginning  to  abate;  its  attacks 
were  indeed  not  less  numerous  than  before, 
but  the  proportion  of  its  victims  was  daily 
diminishing.  I  had  a  few  minutes  at  my 
own  disposal  (sa3's  Livingston),  ami  I  had 
gone  one  evening,  in  a  carriage,  a  short 
distance  from  the  city,  to  breathe  the  j>ure 
air  of  the  country,  when  I  met  on  the  road, 
at  the  very  moment  Avhen  I  was  about  to 
return  toward  the  city,  a  protestant  minis- 
ter— married,  and  the  father  of  a  numerous 
family.  He,  like  the  rest  of  his  co-laborers, 
had  fled  the  fatal  contagion.  He  was  a 
man  truly  pious,  of  exemplary  life,  and 
presenting  in  his  own  ])erson  to  his  flock 
an  example  of  the  Christian  virtues  which 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


521 


lie  preached  to  them  witli  sincerity  and 
eloquence.  And  yet,  in  the  hour  of 
danger,  he  had  not  remained,  but  had  fled, 
— not  for  himself, — he  had  been  carried 
away  by  the  panic  with  which  his  family 
were  seized.     He  asked — 

"  What  is  going  on  in  town,  Edward  ? 
Is  the  sickness  abating?" 

"  We  are  doing  all  we  can,  my  reverend 
friend.  W^e  are  taking  care  of  the  sick. 
The  physicians  are  discharging  most  nobly 
their  glorious  mission — but  u'hat  can  ^re 
do  for  men's  souls?  The  proper  material 
succors  abound,  for  never  was  charity  more 
lavish  of  its  offerings  ;  but  the  bread  of  the 
Word  is  wantin".  The  wretched  ask  in 
vain  for  those  ph^'sicians  of  the  mind  dis- 
eased, whose  consolations  can  cure  the 
wounds  of  the  spirit  and  rob  death  of  its 
terrors.  Well — what  do  3^ou  say  ?  Here 
is  room  for  you  in  my  carriage.  Come  in  ! 
— the  ripe  harvest  is  falling  to  the  ground, 
and  there  are  no  reapers  to  gather  it." 

The  reverend  gentleman  pressed  Liv- 
ingston's hand — pointed  to  his  wife  and 
children  who  were  at  the  door  of  a  small 
house  near  the  road — and  walked  away  in 
silence.  Had  he  belonged  to  any  other 
profession,  his  anxiety  for  his  family 
mitrht  well  have  excused  him  for  sharinsr 
in  that  feeling  of  terror  which,  seizing 
like  a  panic  upon  all  hearts,  bid  fair  to 
depopulate  the  city.  It  was,  indeed,  a 
spectacle  of  sadness  calculated  to  appal  the 
stoutest  heart  —  the  mournful  gloom  of 
those  empty  streets,  their  silence  broken 
only  by  the  rumbling  of  the  dead-cart  and 
the  driver's  hoarse  cry,  "  Bring  out  your 
dead  !  " — those  houses  left  open  and  fully 
furnished,  from  which  the  owners  had  fled 
— that  forest  of  shipping,  deserted  and 
silent  as  those  of  the  Avestern  wilds, — the 
heart  recoiled  from  such  sights  and  con- 
tacts. On  the  masts  of  some  of  these  ves- 
sels hung  still  the  unfurled  sail.  On  the 
wharves,  too,  might  often  be  seen  the  bales 
of  merchandise  which  terror  had  left  there. 
There  was  no  danger  of  their  being  carried 
off.  Death  was  uppermost  in  men's 
minds ;  business  was  forgotten ;  the  grave- 
yards looked  like  plourjhed  fields. 


But  the  anecdote  of  Livingston  and  the 
clerical  friend  is  well  offset  by  one  related 
of  the  Rev.  ]\Ir.  AVhitall,  a  well-known 
Episcopal  clergyman  of  New  Orleans. 
Walking  on  the  levee  in  pursuit  of  objects 
of  charity,  one  day  at  noon,  during  the 
epidemic  period,  he  was  attracted  to  a 
number  of  laborers  collected  around  some 
object.  Elbowing  his  way  through  the 
crowd,  Mr.  Whitall  found  a  poor  laborer 
lying  on  the  ground,  violently  sick  with 
the  prevailing  disease,  exposed  to  the 
sun,  and  suffering  extremely.  The  crowd, 
though  pitying  his  condition,  appeared  to 
be  either  too  much  frightened  to  render 
him  any  aid,  or  ignorant  of  how  they 
could  relieve  him.  But  the  experienced 
Samaritan  did  not  long  consider  his  A\\\.y 
on  such  an  occasion.  Seizing  one  of  the 
wheelbarrows  used  in  carrying  bales  of 
cotton  from  the  wharves  to  the  ships,  he 
rolled  it  up  alongside  the  sick  man,  aiul 
laying  him  gently  in  it,  wheeled  his  poor 
patient  to  the  nearest  hospital,  and  there 
secured  for  him  such  attendance  as  finally 
led  to  his  recovery. 

As  is  usual,  in  times  of  threatened  epi- 
demic, the  authorities  of  most  of  the  prin- 
cipal cities  made  due  provision  to  avert  its 
approach,  by  stringent  sanitary  regula- 
tions, or,  failing  in  this,  established  hospi- 
tals for  the  sick,  retreats  in  the  suburbs 
for  those  residing  in  the  infected  districts, 
and  liberal  appropriations  of  food  and 
money  for  the  thousands  of  persons  thrown 
out  of  employment  at  such  a  crisis.  In 
some  instances,  these  resolute  proceedings 
were  objected  to.  A  few  persons  refused 
to  go,  and  one  man,  who  had  been  forcibly 
removed,  returned  clandestinely  and  shut 
himself  in  his  house  ;  his  foolish  obstinacy 
was  not  discovered  until  he  was  found  dead 
in  the  place  he  was  so  unwilling  to  leave. 
Several  merchants,  too,  laughing  at  the 
i^recautions  of  the  authorities,  persisted  in 
visiting  their  counting-houses  situated  in 
the  dangerous  localities;  their  death 
atoned  for  their  rashness. 

Among  the  women,  the  mortality  was 
not  so  great  as  among  the  men,  nor  among 
the  old  and  infirm  as  among  the  middle- 


no  9 

O  —  ^ 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


aged  and  robust.  Tipplers  and  drunkards, 
as  well  as  gourmands,  were  very  suscepti- 
ble to  the  disorder ;  of  these,  many  were 
seized,  and  the  recoveries  were  very  rare. 
To  men  and  women  of  illicit  pleasure,  it 
was  equally  fatal ;  the  wretched,  debilitated 
state  of  their  constitutions,  produced  by  lust 
and  excess,  rendered  them  an  easy  prey  to 
epidemic  disease,  which  very  soon  termi- 
nated their  miserable  career.  A  vast  num- 
ber of  female  domestics  likewise  fell  victims. 

Dreadful  was  the  destruction  among  the 
poor;  indeed,  it  is  computed  that  at  least 
seven-eighths  of  the  number  of  the  dead 
were  of  that  class.  The  occupants  of 
filthy  houses  severely  expiated  their  neg- 
lect of  cleanliness  and  decency.  Whole 
families,  in  such  houses,  sunk  into  one 
silent,  undistinguishing  grave.  The  mor- 
tality in  confined  streets,  small  alleys,  and 
close  houses,  debarred  of  a  free  circulation 
of  air,  greatly  exceeded  that  in  the  large 
streets  and  well-aired  houses. 

Of  the  committee  appointed  in  Phila- 
delphia for  the  relief  of  the  sick,  it  is 
related  by  one  of  their  number,  as  a  fact 
of  peculiar  physiological  interest,  that  sev- 
eral of  its  members  declared  that  some  of 
the  most  pleasurable  hours  of  their  exist- 
ence were  spent  during  the  heighth  of  the 
fever.  They  were  released  from  the  cares 
of  business  ;  their  committee  duties  fully 
occupied  their  minds,  and  engrossed  their 
attention  for  the  entire  day  ;  they  went  to 
the  state-house — the  place  of  meeting — in 
the  morning,  after  an  early  breakfast ; 
took  a  cold  collation  there  at  dinner-time, 
the  materials  of  which  were  constantlv 
spread  on  a  sideboard ;  and  there  they 
remained  till  night,  when  they  returned 
to  their  families;  custom  robbed  the  situ- 
ation of  its  terrors.  The  onl}^  interruption 
to  this  state  of  their  feelings,  arose  from 
the  death  of  some  friend  or  intimate  ac- 
quaintance, or  of  some  person  whom  they 
had  i)erliaps  seen  alive  a  few  lionrs  or  a 
day  before.     But  even  these  sad  impres- 


sions, though  for  the  time  strong  and 
afiHictive,  soon  wore  awa}-,  and  the  tran- 
quil state  returned. 

Empiricism  and  quackery  were  not  in- 
active, even  in  times  like  these  ;  and  the 
cholera  was  no  exception  among  those 
"  ills  to  which  flesh  is  heir,"  for  the  cure 
of  which  charlatans  had  their  "  unfailing 
specific."  But  of  all  the  nostrums  thus 
brought  forward,  the  "  Vinegar  of  Four 
Thieves''  was  the  most  universal.  A 
story  was  tied  to  its  tail  which  gave  it  a 
popularity :  Centuries  ago,  a  dreadful 
plague  raged  in  Marseilles.  The  peojile 
fled;  the  city  was  visited  by  no  one 
except  four  thieves,  Avho  daily  entered, 
robbed  the  houses,  and  carried  their  plun- 
der to  the  mountains.  The  astonished 
citizens,  who  had  hid  themselves  in  the 
dens  and  caves  of  the  earth,  for  fear  of  the 
plague,  saw  them  daily  i:)ass  and  re-pass 
with  their  ill-gotten  gear,  and  wondered 
most  profoundly  why  the  plague  did  not 
seize  them.  In  process  of  time,  however, 
one  of  these  thieves  was  captured;  they 
were  just  going  to  break  him  on  the  wheel, 
when  he  said  if  they  would  spai-e  his  life 
he  would  teach  them  to  make  the  vinegar 
of  four  thieves,  by  means  of  which  they 
had  escaj^ed  the  plague  when  robbing  the 
city, — a  request  which  was  granted.  The 
"secret"  thus  imparted,  modern  quacks 
claimed  to  make  use  of  in  the  preparation 
of  a  panacea  for  the  cholera !  Of  course 
the  venders  got  rich,  for,  during  the  epi- 
demic, multitudes  credulously  believed  in 
the  efficiency  of  smelling  thieves'  vinegar, 
and  treated  their  noses  accordingly. 

Terribly  as  some  of  the  cities  of  the 
United  States  have  suffered  from  epidem- 
ics, they  bear  no  comparison  in  this 
respect  to  the  devastations  by  cholera  in 
the  cities  of  London  and  Paris, — in  the 
latter  of  which,  with  true  French  sensibil- 
ity, the  people  have  erected  one  of  the 
finest  monuments  commemorative  of  t)ie 
unfortunate  victims. 


LXI. 

MURDER  OF  DR.  GEORGE  PARKMAN,  A  NOTED  MILLION- 
AIRE OF  BOSTON,  BY  PROF.  JOHN  W.  WEBSTER,  OF 
HARVARD  COLLEGE.— 1849. 


IIig;h  Social  Position  of  tlie  Parties. — Instantaneous  Outburst  of  Surprise,  Alarm,  and  Terror,  in  the 
Community,  on  tiie  Discovery  of  the  Deed. — Kemarkabie  Ciiain  ot  Ciicumstances  Leading  to  the 
Murderer's  Detection  — Solenm  and  Exciting  Trial  — Account  of  tlie  Mortal  Blow  and  Disposal  of  tliu 
Kemains. —  Similar  Case  of  Colt  and  Adams. — Parkman's  Wealth  and  Fame — Mysterious  Disappear 
ance,  November  23 — Appointment  with  Professor  Webster,  that  Day. — Their  Unhappy  Pecuniar\ 
Kelations. — Search  for  the  Missing  Millionaire. — Webster's  Call  on  Parkman's  Brother. — Explains 
the  Interview  of  November  23. — No  Trace  of  Parkman  after  that  Date. — The  Medical  Colle^je 
E.xplored. — Scene  in  Webster's  Rooms —The  Tea-Chest,  Vault,  and  Furnace.— Human  Remains 
P'ound  There. — Identified  as  Dr.  Parkman's. — Arrest  of  Webster  at  Night. — Attempt  at  Suicide  on 
the  Spot. — Beiiavior  in  Court — His  Atrocious  Guilt  Proved. — Rendering  the  Verdict. — He  Boldly 
Addresses  the  Jury  —  Nsserts  His  Entire  Innocence. — Final  Confession  of  the  Crime  — Hung  near  the 
Spot  of  His  Birth. — The  Similar  and  Tragical  Case  of  John  C.  Colt,  Murderer  of  Samuel  Adams. 


"Tt  doth  spem  ton  hlondv. 
First,  to  dit  off  till"  head,  thi-n  hiick  tin-  limhs; — 
Like  wratli  iu  dtath,  aud  malice  afterwards." 


EMORABLE,  almost  beyond  a  parallel,  in  the  crim- 
inal annals  of  America,  is  the  great  crime  which 
finds  its  record  in  the  following  pages.  The  posi- 
tion of  the  parties,  in  their  social  and  professional 
relations,  the  nature  of  the  proof,  and,  indeed,  all 
the  circumstances  of  the  case,  invest  the  deed  with 
a  universal  and  permanent  interest. 

On  Friday,  the  twenty-third  of  November,  1849, 
Dr.  George  Parkman,  one  of  the  wealthiest  and  best 
known  citizens  of  Boston,  of  an  old  familj'-,  and 
highly  respected,  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Massa- 
chusetts Medical  College  there,  about  sixty  years  oi 
ae:e,    of  rather  remarkable   person  and  very  active 


'■o^j 


PROF.   WEBSTIZlt'S  MURDER   ATPLIANCES. 

habits,  was  walking  about  the  city,  and  transacting  business  as  usual — one  of  his  last 
acts,  on  that  day,  being  the  purchase  of  some  lettuce  for  the  dinner  of  his  invalid  daugh- 
ter ;  the  only  other  members  of  his  family  being  his  wife,  and  one  son,  who  was  then 
traveling  on  the  continent  of  Europe.  Being  one  of  the  most  punctual  of  men,  his 
absence  from  the  family  table  at  half-past  three  o'clock  excited  surprise  ;  and  on  the 
evening  of  the  same  day  there  was  serious  apprehension,  his  absence  still  continuing 
unexplained.     It  was  thought  best  to  postpone  all  public  search  until  Saturday  after- 


524 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


noon ;  at  two  o'clock,  therefore,  there  being 
no  tidings  of  liim,  a  most  vigorous  and 
minute  search  was  instituted  by  his 
friends,  with  the  aid  of  the  police  force  of 
Boston  and  of  advertisements  offering 
large  rewards  for  such  intelligence  as 
should  lead  to  his  discovery.  He  was 
described  as  sixty  years  of  age,  about  five 
feet  and  nine  inches  high,  gray  hair,  thin 
face,  with  a  scar  ^.er  the  chin,  light  com- 
plexion, and  usu.uly  a  rapid  walker;  he 
was  dressed  in  a  dark  frock  coat,  dark  pan- 
taloons, puri)le  silk  vest,  dark  figured  black 
stock,  and  black  hat.  The  search  was 
continued  without  intermission  until  the 
following  Friday,  men  being  sent  in  all 
directions  for  fifty  or  sixty  miles,  on  all 
the  railroads,  to  all  the  towns  on  the  coast ; 
they  searched  over  land  and  water,  and 
under  water. 

It  was  known  the  next  Sunday  follow- 
ing his  disappearance,  that  on  the  previous 
Friday,  at  half-past  one  o'clock,  Doctor 
Farkman  had,  by  appointment,  met  with 
Dr.  John  W.  Webster  (Professor  of  Chem- 
istry in  Harvard  University,  and  Lecturer 
on  Chemistry  in  the  Medical  College,  Bos- 
ton,) in  his  rooms  at  the  Medical  College, 
and  no  further  trace  could  be  found  ;  the 
fact  of  this  interview  having  been  first 
communicated  by  Professor  Webster. 

Tlie  nature  of  this  interview,  and  the 
circumstances  under  which  it  took  place, 
may  be  here  stated.  In  1842,  Doctor  Park- 
man  had  lent  Professor  Webster,  on  his 
promissory  note,  four  hundred  dollars,  and 
in  1847  a  further  advance  was  made  to 
Professor  Webster  by  Doctor  Parkman  and 
some  other  parties,  in  acknowledgment  of 
which  there  was  a  promissory  note  given 
Doctor  Parkman  for  two  thousand  four  hun- 
dred and  thirty-two  dollars,  payable  by 
yearly  installments  in  four  years ;  a  balance 
due  on  a  former  note,  to  the  amount  of 
three  hundred  and  thirty-two  dollars, 
being  included.  Doctor  Parkman  had  held 
two  mortgages;  one  to  secure  the  four 
hundred  dollar  note,  which  was  given  in 
1842,  and  another  which  secured  that  note, 
and  the  other  large  note  given  in  1'''47. 
The  mortgage  which   was  given  in  1847, 


covered  all  Professor  Webster's  household 
furniture,  his  books,  and  all  his  minerals, 
and  other  objects  of  natural  history.  That 
cabinet,  however,  he  secretly  disposed  of, 
so  that  all  that  was  left  to  secure  that 
mortgage  was  the  household  furniture,  and 
what  books  he  may  have  had.  From  a 
memorandum,  prepared  in  April,  1849,  it 
was  shown  that  the  amount  of  Professor 
Webster's  debt  to  Doctor  Parkman  was,  at 
that  time,  four  hundred  and  fift^'-six  dol- 
lars, being  made  up  of  three  items  due  at 
different  times.  Doctor  Parkman  had  for 
some  time  pressed  urgently  for  the  balance 
due  to  himself,  and  there  were  frequent 
and  by  no  means  friendly  communications 
between  the  parties  on  the  subject. 

The  account  given  by  Professor  Web- 
ster to  the  Rev.  Dr.  Francis  Parkman — 
with  whom  he  was  on  intimate  terms, 
having  formerly  been  a  member  of  his 
congregation,  and  having  very  recently 
received  from  him  pastoral  offices, — of  the 
last  interview  with  his  missing  brother, 
was,  that  he  called  upon  Doctor  Parkman 
at  half-past  nine  o'clock  on  the  morning  of 
Friday,  November  twent^'-third,  and  ar- 
ranged that  the  doctor  should  meet  him  at 
the  college  at  half-past  one ;  that  Doctor 
Parkman  came  at  that  hour,  liaving  some 
papers  in  his  hand,  and  received  from 
Professor  Webster  four  hundred  and 
eighty-three  dollars,  and  some  odd  cents, 
upon  which  Doctor  Parkman  took  out  one 
of  the  notes,  and  hurriedly  dashing  his  pen 
across  the  signature,  went  away  in  great 
haste,  leaving  the  note  behind  him,  saying, 
as  he  left  the  room,  that  he  would  have  the 
mortgage  canceled.  On  the  last  interview 
between  them  in  the  presence  of  any 
witness,  and  which  took  jilace  in  the  col- 
lege on  the  previous  Monday,  Doctor  Park- 
man  indignantly  complained  to  Professor 
Webster  that  the  cabinet  of  minerals,  which 
was  mortgaged  to  him  in  security  of  tlie 
advances  he  made,  had  been  afterwards 
fraudulently  sold  to  his  brother-in-law,  ISIr. 
Robert  G.  Shaw  ;  and  to  another  person 
he  made  some  very  severe  remarks  in  rela- 
tion to  this  transaction,  substantially,  if 
not  in  express  terms,  chnvging  l^rofessor 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


525 


"Webster  with  dishonesty.  At  parting,  Doc- 
tor Parknian  is  reported  to  have  said  with 
much  energy,  "something  must  be  done 
to-morrow  !  "  Tlie  following  day,  Profes- 
sor Webster  sent  a  note  to  Doctor  Park- 
man,  in  response  to  wliich  the  doctor  went 
out  to  Cambridge,  on  Thursday,  to  Profes- 
sor Webster's  liouse. 

Every  clue  discovered  led  the  searchers 
back  to  the  medical  college  in  Poston,  and 
there  ended;  no  person  being  to  be  found 
who  had  spoken  with  Doctor  Parkman 
after  his  interview  with  Professor  Webster. 
Along  with  other  buildings,  the  college 
was  searched ;  first  on  Monday — slightly, 
and  merely  by  way  of  excuse  for  searching 
other  houses  in  the  neighborhood,  —  and 
again  upon  Tuesday',  but  with  no  serious 
suspicions  and  with  no  discovery,  Profes- 
sor Webster  cheerfull}^  accompanying  the 
officers  through  his  own  apartments. 

In  the  meantime,  another  investigation 
had  been  going  on  in  the  hands  of  Little- 
field,  the  janitor  of  the  college,  who  had  as 
early  as  Sunday  evening  begun  to  enter- 
tain suspicions,  which  all  his  subsequent 
assiduous  watching  increased,  and  which 
led  to  the  discovery,  upon  Frida}',  in  the 
laboratory,  and  in  a  vault  connected  with 
it,  of  certain  human  remains,  believed  to 
be  those  of  Doctor  Parkman,  and  to  the 
apprehension  and  ultimately  to  the  trial  of 
Professor  W^ebster  on  the  charge  of 
murder.  It  was  a  case,  in  comparison 
with  which,  those  of  Hare,  Avery,  Robin- 
son, Strang,  Ward,  Washburn,  Thomas, 
and  Rogers,  appear  but  ordinary. 

The  premises  in  the  medical  college  used 
by  Professor  Webster,  consisted  of  a  lec- 
ture-room in  front;  an  upper  laboratory 
behind  the  lecture-room,  furnished  with  a 
stove,  water  and  a  sink,  and  a  small  room 
adjoining,  where  chemical  materials  were 
kept.  These  were  on  the  first  floor.  On 
the  basement  story  there  was  a  lower  lab- 
oratory, reached  by  a  staircase  from  the 
upper  one ;  this  contained  an  assay  fur- 
nace, was  provided  with  water  and  a  sink, 
had  a  store-room  adjoining,  and  a  private 
closet,  with  an  opening  into  a  vault  at  the 
base  of  the  building,  into  which  vault  the 


sea-water  had  access  through  the  stones  of 
the  wall,  which  had  been  some  j'ears 
before  slightly  pushed  out  of  their  original 
position.  Into  this  vault  there  was  no 
opening  except  that  in  the  private  closet. 
After  all  the  other  parts  of  the  college  had 
been  repeatedly  searched  without  success, 
the  janitor  resolved  to  make  an  examina- 
tion of  this  vault,  which  he  effected  by 
secretly'  breaking  a  hole  through  the  brick 
and  lime  wall,  at  a  point  almost  directly 
under  the  private  closet,  taking  care  to 
work  only  during  Professur  Webster's 
absence. 


/"^   ^cur-^. 


On  the  afternoon  of  Friday,  the  thirtieth 
of  November,  exactly  a  week  after  Doctor 
Parkman's  disappearance,  the  opening  was 
made;  and  there  were  discovered,  l^nng  in 
the  vault,  parts  of  a  male  human  body. 
These  consisted  of  the  pelvis  or  hip  bones, 
the  right  thigh  from  the  hip  to  the  knee, 
and  the  left  leg,  from  the  knee  to  the 
ankle. 

In  consequence  of  this  disclosure.  Pro- 
fessor Webster  was  immediately  appre- 
hended; and  a  more  careful  search  was 
made  in  the  laboratory  on  the  next  and 
the  following  days,  which  resulted  in  fur- 
ther discoveries.  Buried  among  tan  in  a 
tea-chest,  and  covered  with  specimens  of 
minerals,  there  were  found  a  large  hunt- 
ing-knife ;  a  thorax  or  chest,  with  both 
clavicles  and  scapulfe  attached,  and  having 
a  perforation  in  the  region  of  the  heart; 
and  a  left  thigh,  to  which  a  piece  of  string 


526 


OUR  riEST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


was  fastened.  In  the  ashes  of  the  furnace, 
also,  were  found  grains  of  gold,  a  pearl 
shirt  button,  a  human  tooth,  blocks  of 
mineral  teeth,  and  about  fifty  fragments 
of  bone  belonging  to  the  skull,  face,  and 
other  parts  of  the  human  body.  There 
was  also  found  in  the  laboratory  a  large 
double-edged  §heath-knife — called  also  a 
Turkish  knife — a  small  saw,  a  hammer, 
and  some  other  articles. 

In  arresting  Professor  Webster,  three 
of  the  Boston  police  proceeded  at  night, 
under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Clapp,  in  a 
coach,  to  his  residence  in  Cambridge,  on 
knocking  at  the  door  of  which  and  inquir- 
ing for  the  professor,  the  account  of  what 
transpired  is  as  follows  :  That  he  came  for- 
ward to  see  what  was  wanted  ;  we  told  him 
that  we  wanted  him  to  go  with  us  and  as- 
sist at  one  more  search  of  the  medical  col- 
lege. He  said  something  about  its  hav- 
ing been  searched  two  or  three  times 
before,  but  was  very  willing  to  accompany 
us,  and  putting  off  his  slippers,  drew  on 
his  boots,  and  came  out.  Just  as  we 
started,  he  remarked  that  he  had  forgotten 
his  keys,  and  would  go  back  and  get  them  ; 
lie  was  told  that  they  had  keys  enough  to 
unlock  all  the  rooms  in  the  college,  and  it 
would  not  be  necessary  for  him  to  go  back 
after  them — he  said  it  was  very  well,  and 
got  into  the  coach.  The  driver  turned 
toward  Boston,  and  on  the  way  Professor 
Webster  conversed  on  indifferent  subjects. 
The  conversation  finally  fell  upon  the  dis- 
appearance of  Doctor  Parkman.  Profes- 
sor Webster  remarked  that  a  Mrs.  Bent, 
of  Cambridge,  had  seen  Doctor  Parkman 
at  a  very  late  hour  on  the  Friday  evening 
when  he  disappeared,  and  he  said  as  she 
lived  near  the  bridge,  it  miglit  be  well  to 
call  and  see  her;  this  was  declined,  with 
the  reply  that  they  could  go  some  other 
time. 

On  the  party  coming  over  the  bridge, 
Professor  Webster  asked  if  anything  fur- 
ther had  been  done  in  the  search  for  the 
doctor;  he  was  told  that  the  doctor's  hat 
had  been  found  in  the  water  at  Charles- 
town,  and  tliat  till'  river  had  been  dragged 
above  and  below  the  bridge.     As  the  coach 


went  along,  the  driver  passed  bej'ond  the 
street  leading  to  the  college,  and  directed 
his  way  up  towards  the  jail.  Professor 
Webster  remarked  that  he  was  going  in  a 
wrong  direction.  To  this,  policeman  Clapp 
made  reply,  that  the  coachman  was  a  new 
hand  and  somewhat  green,  but  he  would 
doubtless  discover  and  rectify  l)is  mistake. 
This  reason  satisfied  him.  The  coachman 
still  drove  on,  and  shortly  after  arrived  at 
the  jail.  Clapp  got  out  of  the  coach  and 
went  into  the  jail,  to  see  if  there  were  any 
spectators  there — found  there  were  not, 
and  then  went  back  and  said  to  those  in 
the  coach,  "I  wish,  gentlemen,  you  would 
alight  here  for  a  few  moments."  The  offi- 
cers got  out  of  the  coach,  and  the  professor 
followed.  They  passed  into  the  outer 
office,  and  Clapp  then  said,  "Gentlemen, 
I  guess  we  had  better  walk  into  the  inner 
office."  Looking  strangely  at  Clapp,  Pro- 
fessor Webster  said — 

"  What  is  the  meanii^g  of  oil  t/iis?" 
"  Professor  Webster,"  replied  Mr.  Clapp, 
"  j'ou  will  perhaps  remember  that  in  com- 
ing over  Cambridge  bridge,  I  told  30U  that 
the  river  above  and  below  it  had  been 
dragged ;  we  have  also  been  dragging  in 
the  college,  and  we  have  been  looking  for 
the  body  of  Dr.  Parkman.  You  are  now 
in  custod)/,  on  the  charrje  of  being  his  mur- 
derer !  " 

On  hearing  this  announcement,  he  ut- 
tered two  or  three  sentences  which  were 
not  distinctly  understood,  but  which  were 
supposed  at  the  time  to  refer  to  the  nature 
of  the  crime  with  which  he  was  charged; 
he  finally  spoke  j^l^inly,  and  said  he  would 
like  his  family  to  be  told  of  his  arrest. 
Mr.  Clapp  replied,  that  if  his  family  were 
informed,  as  he  requested,  it  would  be  a 
sad  night  to  them,  and  advised  him  far- 
ther— as  he  was  beginning  to  talk — that 
he  would  better  not  .^ay  anything  to  any- 
body at  that  time.  On  afterwards  carry- 
ing the  prisoner  to  the  college  and  labora- 
tory, he  was  greatly  agitated,  and  looked 
as  though  he  did  not  know  what  was  going 
on  about  him.  He  appeared  to  act  pre- 
cisely as  some  persons  are  known  to  when 
in   delirium   tremens;     some   one    hand(d 


GREAT  AND  ^lEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


527 


him  water,  but  he  could  not  drinlc,  and 
sna[)i)eil  at  tlie  glass  like  a  mad  dog. 
Concerning  this  period,  Professor  Web- 
ster states,  in  his  own  words:  'When  I 
found  the  carriage  was  stopping  at  the 
jail,  I  was  sure  of  my  fate.  Before  leav- 
ing the  carriage  I  took  a  dose  of  strych- 
nine from  my  pocket  and  swallowed  it.  I 
had  prepared  it  in  the  shape  of  a  pill  be- 
fore I  left  my  laboratory  on  the  twenty- 
third.  I  thought  I  could  not  bear  to  sur- 
vive detection.  I  thought  it  was  a  large 
dose.  The  state  of  my  nervous  system 
probably  defeated  its  action  partially.' 

After  a  long  investigation  of  the  case, 
the  grand  jury  found  an  indictment  against 


the  prisoner  for  the  murder  of  Doctor 
Parkman,  which  came  on  for  trial  at  Bos- 
ton, before  Chief  Justice  Shaw  and  three 
associate  justices,  W^ilde,  Metcalf,  and 
Dewey,  of  the  supreme  judicial  court  of 
Massachusetts,  upon  the  nineteenth  of 
March,  1850.  Some  time  before  the 
judges  took  their  places  upon  the  bench, 
Professor  Webster, — until  now  the  inti- 
mate companion  of  senators,  judges,  di- 
vines, men  of  literature  and  science — 
entered,  and  immediately  took  his  seat  in 
the  felon's  dock.  His  step  was  light  and 
elastic,  in  crossing  towards  his  place,  and 
his  countenance  betraj'ed  a  marked  degree 
of  calm  and  dignified  composure.  On  sit- 
ting down,  he  smiled,  as  he  saluted  several 
of  his   friends  and  acquaintances,  to  some 


of  whom  he  familiarly'  nodded ;  and  a 
?trani;er  would  have  taken  him  for  an  or- 
dinary  spectator.  He  wore  his  spectacles, 
and  sat  with  ease  and  dignity  in  the  dock, 
occasionally  shaking  hands  with  friends. 
The  countenance  of  Professor  Webster  in- 
dicated sti'ong  animal  passions,  and  irasci- 
ble temperament.  The  cheek-bones  high, 
and  the  mouth,  with  compressed  lips,  be- 
trayed great  resolution  and  firmness  of 
character.  The  forehead  inclined  to  an- 
gular, rather  low,  and  partially'  retreating. 
Standing  below  the  middle  height,  and  by 
no  means  a  man  of  muscular  strength,  his 
general  appearance  made  no  very  favorable 
impression.  On  the  reading  of  the  indict- 
ment, by  the  clerk,  the  prisoner  stood  up 
in  the  dock  and  listened  with  marked  at- 
tention. Almost  every  eye  was  turned 
towards  him  at  this  time,  but  he  exhibited 
the  same  self-possession  and  determined 
control  as  from  the  first,  pleading  'Not 
Guilty,'  in  a  strong  and  emphatic  tone  of 
voice.  Ex-Governor  Clifford  was  his  sen- 
ior counsel. 

The  trial  lasted  during  eleven  days, 
there  having  been  no  fewer  than  one  hun- 
dred and  sixteen  witnesses  examined — 
forty-seven  of  them  being  called  on  behalf 
of  the  accused,  including  his  professional 
friends  and  neighbors.  Presidents  Sparks 
and  W^alker,  Professors  Peirce,  Bowen, 
Hosford,  Palfrey,  and  Wyman.  Scientific 
testimony  was  also  given  by  Prof.  0.  W. 
Holmes,  and  others ;  and  the  court  sat 
eight  or  nine  hours  each  da3^  The  testi- 
mony was  of  a  most  deeply  interesting 
and  exciting  character.  The  various  parts 
of  the  body  found  in  the  vault,  furnace, 
and  tea-chest,  were,  by  the  marvelous  and 
beautiful  science  of  anatoni}^,  under  the 
skillful  hand  of  Prof.  Jeffries  AVyman,  re- 
integrated, and  found  to  constitute  a 
body,  positively  recognized  by  some  of 
Doctor  Parkman's  intimate  associates  as 
his.  Doctor  Keep  identified  the  mineral 
teeth  as  the  set  made  by  him  for  the  doc- 
tor. The  general  figure  and  appearance 
indicated  by  the  remains,  including  a  very 
peculiar  hairiness  of  the  back,  corresponded 
perfectly    with     Doctor    Parkman's;     the 


528 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


heiglit,  ■\vliich,  on  tlic  evidence  of  the  anat- 
omists examined,  'could  be  determined 
certainly  within  half  an  inch,'  was  just 
the  same ;  the  form  of  the  lower  jaw,  too, 
shown  b}'  four  fragments  of  the  right  half, 
imi)lied  a  rising  chin,  which  was  so  promi- 
nent a  feature  of  the  doctor.  Every  cir- 
cumstance brought  forward  tended  to  show 
that  Doctor  Parkman's  last  known  where- 
abouts was  at  the  medical  college,  on  the 
day  when  he  was  there  to  meet  Professor 
Webster;  that  the  remains  found  in  the 
apartments  of  the  latter  were  those  of  the 
doctor;  that  the  professor,  during  the 
Aveek  succeeding  the  day  of  Doctor  Park- 
man's  disappearance,  was  locked  in  his 
l.iboratory  at  unusual  hours ;  that  during 
that  week,  intense  fires  had  been  kept  up 
in  the  furnace,  and  water  was  used  in  pro- 
digious quantities.  So  overwhelming  was 
the  evidence  substantiating  these  and  kin- 
dred facts,  and  so  strong  and  unbroken  the 
tliain  of  circumstances  which  connected 
Professor  Webster's  movements  with  the 
great  and  awful  deed,  that  the  verdict  of 
guilty  seemed  inevitable,  when  the  ques- 
tion sliuuld  be  fmall}-  passed  upon  by  the 
jury.  But,  through  all  the  protracted 
trial,  the  prisoner  maintained  perfect  com- 
posure, even  when  facts  and  objects  were 
disclosed  which  would  have  made  most 
men  tremble.  He  also  had  the  hardihood 
to  address  the  jury,  previous  to  the  charge 
from  the  bench,  explaining  away  the  evi- 
dence against  him,  and  asserting  his  en- 
tire innocence. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  judge's  charge, 
the  case  was  committed  to  the  jury,  and 
in  about  three  hours  they  returned  to  de- 
liver their  verdict.  Professor  Webster  also 
soon  ap[)eared  in  the  charge  of  an  officer; 
lie  moved  with  a  quick,  nervous  step,  and 
took  his  place  in  a  cliair  beside  the  prison- 
er's dock,  wliich  he  soon  after  changed  for 
the  arm-chair  in  the  iron  picket  indosures. 
His  appearance  was  pale  and  thoughtful, 
with  a  serious  dejectedness  which  was  ap- 
parent in  the  contraction  of  the  muscles 
about  the  mouth.  The  ])rofo>ind  and 
death-like  stillness  was  now  broken  by  the 
clerk,  who  said — 


"  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  have  you  agreed 
on  a  verdict  ?  " 

"  We  have,"  was  the  response. 

"  Who  shall  sj^eak  for  3-ou,  gentlemen  ?  " 

"  The  foreman,"  answered  some  of  the 

jury. 

"John  W.  Webster,  hold  up  3'our  right 
hand,"  said  the  clerk. 

The  prisoner  rose  and  looked  steadily 
and  intensely  upon  the  foreman;  and  the 
clerk  then  continued — 

"  Mr.  Foreman,  look  upon  the  prisoner. 
Prisoner,  look  upon  the  jviry." 

Professor  Webster  still  maintained  his 
fixed  and  intense  look  of  inquiry  upon  the 
foreman,  trying  to  gather  from  his  coun- 
tenance some  indication  of  the  sentiments 
of  the  jury  upon  which  depended  life  or 
death  to  him. 

"  What  say  you,  Mr.  Foreman,  is  John 
W.  Webster,  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  guilty, 
or  not  guilty  ?  "  demanded  the  clerk. 

"  Guilt//  !  "  was  the  solemn  response. 

When  the  foreman  pronounced  the  word 
Guilty,  the  prisoner  started,  like  a  person 
shot ;  and  his  hand,  which  had  hitherto 
been  held  erect,  fell  to  the  bar  in  front  of 
him  with  a  dead  sound,  as  if  he  had  sud- 
denl3'  been  deprived  of  muscular  action. 
He  soon  sat  down  ;  his  chin  drooped  upon 
his  breast.  He  put  his  hand  up  to  his 
face,  but  his  nerves  trembled  so  that  he 
appeared  to  be  fumbling  with  his  fingers 
under  his  spectacles,  and,  shutting  his 
eyes,  he  gave  a  deep,  heart-breaking  sigh, 
which  spoke  of  the  inexpressible  anguish 
of  his  soul.  All  eyes  were  fixed  in  sad- 
ness upon  the  doomed  man.  On  the  en- 
suing Monday  he  received  his  sentence  to 
be  hung. 

Subsequently,  proceedings  were  taken, 
but  unsuccessful,  on  the  part  of  Professor 
Webster,  to  set  aside  the  trial,  on  the 
ground  of  some  alleged  technical  informal- 
ities; and  a  petition  to  Governor  Briggs, 
— likewise  unavailing — for  a  commutation 
of  the  sentence,  on  the  ground  that  the 
killing,  now  confessed  by  Professor  Web- 
ster, was  done  in  the  heat  of  excessive 
provocation.  In  this  confession,  Professor 
Webster  states,  as  follows,  the  manner  in 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


529 


which  the  murder  was  committed  : — Doc- 
tor Park  man  agreed  to  call  on  me  as  I 
j)roposed.  He  came,  accordingly,  between 
half-past  one  and  two  o'clock,  entering  at 
tlie  lecture-room  door.  I  was  engaged  in 
removing  some  lecture-room  glasses  from 
my  tahle  into  the  room  in  the  rear,  called 
the  upper  laboratory.  He  came  rapidly 
down  the  step,  and  followed  me  into  the 
laboratory.  He  immediately  addressed 
me  with  great  energy — '  Are  you  ready 
for  me,  sir  ?  Have  you  got  the  money  ? ' 
I  replied,  '  No,  Doctor  Parkman ; '  and  I 
was  then  beginning  to  state  my  condition 
and  my  appeal  to  him,  but  he  would  not 
listen  to  me,  and  interrupted  me  with 
much  vehemence.  He  called  me  a  scoun- 
drel and  a  liar,  and  went  on  heaping  on 


obtain  the  object  for  which  I  sought  the 
interview,  but  I  could  not  stop  him,  and 
soon  my  own  temper  was  up ;  I  forgot 
everything,  and  felt  nothing  but  the  sting 
of  his  words.  I  was  excited  to  the  highest 
degree  of  passion,  and  while  he  was  speak- 
ing and  gesticulating  in  the  most  violent 
and  menacing  manner,  thrusting  the  letter 
and  his  fist  into  my  face,  in  my  fury  I 
seized  whatever  thing  was  liandiest,  (it 
was  a  stick  of  wood,)  and  dealt  him  an 
instantaneous  blow  with  all  the  force  that 
passion  could  give  it.  I  did  not  know,  or 
think,  or  care,  where  I  should  hit  him,  nor 
how  hard,  nor  Avhat  the  effect  would  be. 
It  was  on  the  side  of  his  head,  and  there 
was  nothing  to  break  the  force  of  the  blow. 
He    fell    instantly   upon    the    pavement. 


I'KoFiiSijuu  weuster's  cell  in  pkisox. 


me  the  most  bitter  taunts  and  opprobrious 
epithets.  While  he  was  speaking,  he  drew 
out  a  handful  of  papers  from  his  pocket, 
and  took  from  among  them  my  two  notes, 
and  also  an  old  letter  from  Doctor  Hosack, 
written  many  years  ago,  congratulating 
him  on  his  success  in  getting  me  appointed 
Professor  of  Chemistry.  '  You  see,'  he 
said,  '  I  was  the  means  of  getting  j^ou  into 
your  office,  and  now  I  will  get  you  out  of 
it.'  He  put  back  into  his  pocket  all  the 
papers  except  the  letters  and  the  notes. 
I  cannot  tell  how  long  the  torrent  of 
threats  and  invectives  continued,  and  I 
can  recall  to  memory  but  a  small  portion 
of  what  he  said ;  at  first  I  kept  interpo.-?- 
ing,  trying  to  pacify  him,  so  that  I  might 
34 


There  was  no  second  blow;  he  did  not 
move.  I  stooped  down  over  him,  and  he 
seemed  to  be  lifeless.  Blood  flowed  from 
his  mouth,  and  I  got  a  sponge  and  wiped 
it  away.  I  got  some  ammonia  and  ap- 
plied it  to  his  nose,  but  without  effect. 
Perhaps  I  spent  ten  minutes  in  attempts 
to  resuscitate  him,  but  I  found  he  was  ab- 
solutely dead.  In  my  hoi-ror  and  conster- 
nation I  ran  instinctively  to  the  doors  and 
bolted  them,  the  doors  of  the  lecture-room, 
and  of  the  laboratory  below.  And  then, 
what  was  I  to  do  ?  It  never  occurred  to 
me  to  go  out  and  declare  what  had  been 
done,  and  obtain  assistance.  I  saw  noth- 
ing but  the  alternative  of  a  successful 
movement  and  concealment  of  the  body  on 


530 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


the  one  hand,  and  of  infamy  and  destruc- 
tion on  the  other.  The  first  thing  I  did, 
as  soon  as  I  coukl  do  anything,  was  to 
draw  tlie  hody  into  tlie  private  room  ad- 
joining, where  I  took  off  tlie  clothes  and 
began  putting  them  into  the  fire,  which 
Avas  burning  in  the  upper  laboratory. 
They  were  all  consumed  there  that  after- 
noon. 

The  painful  details  of  the  separation 
and  disposal  of  the  parts  are  then  described 
by  Professor  Webster, — the  body  dismem- 
bered ;  the  head,  viscera,  and  some  of  the 
limbs  thrown  into  the  fire  of  the  furnace, 
'and  fuel  heaped  on ;' and  the  remainder 
of  the  body  put  in  two  cisterns  with  water, 
one  of  which  was  under  the  lid  of  the  lec- 
ture-room table,  and  the  other  in  the  lower 
laboratory,  into  the  latter  of  which  a 
quantity  of  potash  was  at  the  same  time 
thrown. 

In  continuation  of  this  ghastly  narrative. 
Professor  Webster  says  : — When  the  body 
had  been  thus  all  disposed  of,  I  cleared 
away  all  traces  of  what  had  been  done.  I 
think  the  stick  with  which  the  fatal  blow 
had  been  struck,  proved  to  be  a  ^nece  of 
the  stump  of  a  large  grape-vine — say  two 
inches  in  diameter,  and  two  feet  long.  It 
was  one  of  several  pieces  which  I  had 
carried  in  from  Cambridge  long  before, 
for  the  purpose  of  showing  the  effect  of 
certain  chemical  fluids  in  coloring  wood, 
by  being  absorbed  into  the  pores.  The 
grape-vino,  being  a  very  porous  wood,  was 
well  adapted  for  that  purpose.  Another 
longer  stick  had  been  used  as  intended, 
and  exhibited  to  the  students.  This  one 
had  not  been  used.  I  put  it  into  the  fire. 
I  took  u[)  the  two  notes  either  from  the 
table  or  the  floor;  I  think  the  table,  close 
by  where  Doctor  Parkman  had  fallen.  I 
seized  an  old  metallic  pen  lying  on  the 
table,  dashed  it  across  the  face,  and 
through  the  signatures,  and  put  them  in 
my  pock-et.  I  do  not  know  why  I  did  tliis 
rather  than  put  them  in  the  fire,  for  I  had 
not  considered  for  a  moment  what  effect 
either  mode  of  disposing  of  them  Avould 
have  on  the  mortgage,  or  my  indebtedness 
to  Doctor  Parkman  and  the  other  persons 


interested,  and  I  had  not  yet  given  a  sin- 
gle thought  to  the  question  as  to  what 
account  I  should  give  of  the  object  or  re- 
sult of  my  interview  with  Doctor  Park- 
man.  I  left  the  college  to  go  home  as  late 
as  six  o'clock.  I  collected  mj'self  as  well 
as  I  could,  that  I  might  meet  my  family 
and  others  with  composure. 

It  was  on  Sunday  that  Professor  Web- 
ster, according  to  his  own  assertion,  for 
the  first  time  made  up  his  mind  what 
course  to  take,  and  what  account  to  give 
of  the  appointed  meeting  between  him  and 
Doctor  Parkman  ;  that  on  the  same  day 
he  looked  into  the  laboratory  but  did  noth- 
ing ;  on  Monday,  after  the  officers'  visit 
of  search  to  the  college,  he  threw  the  parts 
which  had  been  vnder  the  lecture-table 
into  the  vault,  and  packed  the  thorax  into 
the  tea-chest ;  the  perforation  of  the  tho- 
rax was  made  by  the  knife ;  and  at  the 
time  of  removing  the  viscera  on  Wednes- 
day, he  put  on  kindlings,  and  made  a  fire 
in  the  furnace  below,  having  first  poked 
down  the  ashes ;  some  of  the  limbs  were 
consumed  at  this  time.  This,  he  sa^'s, 
was  the  last  he  had  to  do  with  the  remains. 
The  fish-hooks,  tied  up  as  grapples,  were 
to  be  used  for  drawing  wp  the  parts  in  the 
vault.  On  the  very  night  of  the  murder, 
he  and  his  family  made  a  neighborly  call 
at  Professor  Treadwell's,  passing  the  even- 
ing in  social  conversation  and  playing 
whist !  It  was  that  baneful  feature  in 
American  society  —  extravagance  —  which 
alone  brought  Webster  to  calculate  the  life 
of  his  creditor  and  benefactor,  and  which, 
in  so  many  other  eminent  exam|)les,  like 
those  of  Huntington,  Ketchum,  Edwards, 
Schuyler,  and  Gardiner,  took  the  shape  of 
gigantic  frauds  and  peculation. 

So  plain  were  the  facts  involving  Pro- 
fessor Webster's  terrible  guilt,  however, 
that  no  efforts  to  palliate  his  atrocious 
crime  had  the  least  effect  upon  the  public 
mind  in  lightening  the  crushing  weight 
of  infamy  from  his  name,  nor  did  the  arm 
of  retributive  justice  for  a  moment  swerve 
or  falter.  Upon  a  scaffold,  in  the  same 
quarter  of  his  native  city  where  he  and  his 
victim  first  breathed  the  bi-eath  of  life,  and 


GIIEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


631 


in  full  view  of  the  classic  halls  of  Harvard 
College,  John  White  Webster  j)ai(l  the 
extreme  peualty  of  tlu'  hiw.  and  his  form 
now  lies  interred  in  one  of  tJie  sequestered 
dells  of  Mount  Auburn,  not  far  from  the 
spot  where  rest  the  shattered  remains  of 
the  ill-fated  Parkman.  Professor  Webster 
oweil  his  appointment  at  Harvard  Univer- 
sity to  the  influence  of  Doctor  Parkman 
and  the  eminent  and  honored  Dr.  Cas- 
par Wistar,  of  Philadelphia,  president  of 
the  American  Philosophical  Society. 

No  such  deep  and  wide-spread  excite- 
ment had,  for  many  years,  attended  any 
other  of  the  numerous  murders  committed 
for  pecuniary  motives,  excepting,  perhaps, 
the  cold-blooded  killing  of  Samuel  Adams, 
a  highly  respected  printer,  by  John  C. 
Colt,  author  of  the  system  of  book-keeping 
and  penmanship  bearing  his  name,  and 
brother  of  the  well-known  inventor  of  the 
revolver.  This  deed  occurred  in  the  city 
of  New  York,  in  September,  1841.  Colt 
had  for  some  time  owed  Adams  a  bill  for 
printing,  which  he  was  unprepared  to  pay. 
The  final  call  made  by  Adams,  at  Colt's 
room  on  Broadway,  for  a  settlement  of 
the  account,  resulted  in  a  tragedy  rarely 
equaled  in  the  annals  of  crime. 

For  some  days,  the  mj^sterious  absence 
of  Mr.  Adams  was  the  subject  of  universal 
comment  in  the  newspaper  press.  The 
discovery  of  the  murder  was  made  through 
the  instrumentality  of  Mr.  Wheeler,  who 
occupied  a  room  adjoining  that  of  Colt. 
About  four  o'clock,  p.  M.,  on  the  day  of 
]\[r.  Adams's  disappearance,  Mr.  Wheeler 
thought  he  heard  an  unusual  noise  in 
Colt's  room,  and  was  induced  to  go  to  the 
door  and  rap.  Not  receiving  any  answer, 
he  looked  through  the  key-hole,  and  saw 
two  hats  standing  upon  a  table,  and  Colt 
kneeling  upon  the  floor,  as  if  scrubbing  it. 
After  waiting  a  little  while,  Mr.  Wheeler 
peeped  into  the  key-hole  again,  and  saw 
Colt  still  engaged  in  the  same  operation. 
This  excited  his  suspicions,  and  he  caused 
a  person  to  watch  at  the  door  all  night. 
In  the  morning,  Colt  was  seen  to  take  a 
box,  about  four  feet  long  and  two  high, 
down    stairs.     The   box   was   directed   to 


somebody  in  St.  Louis,  via  New  Orleans. 
IVIr.  Wheeler  gave  information  of  these 
facts  to  the  mayor,  who  immediately  insti- 
tuted search  for  the  box;  it  was  found, 
after  some  difficulty,  on  board  of  the  ship 
Kalamazoo,  and  in  it  the  body  of  Mr.  Ad- 
ams, wrapped  up  in  sail-cloth  and  sprinkled 
with  salt  and  chloride  of  lime. 

Colt  was  at  once  arrested,  and  an  indict- 
ment for  willful  and  deliberate  murder 
found  against  him.  His  trial  resulted  in 
his  conviction  ;  and,  notwithstanding  the 
efforts  of  numerous  and  powerful  friends, 
and  the  lavish  use  of  money,  in  his  behalf, 
the  fatal  day  arrived  when  he  was  to  pay 
the  extreme  penalty  of  the  law  for  his 
great  crime.  The  scaffold  was  erected — 
the  whole  city  surged  with  excitement — 
the  crowd  gathered  around  the  prison  was 
immense. 

At  eleven  o'clock,  Rev.  Dr.  Anthon  vis- 
ited Colt's  cell,  in  company  with  Colt's 
brother,  for  the  jDurpose  of  marrying  the 
murderer  to  his  mistress,  Caroline  Hen- 
shaw.  The  ceremony  was  performed,  Colt 
manifesting  a  deep  interest  in  their  child. 
He  also  lianded  a  package  containing  five 
hundred  dollars  for  its  benefit  to  Doctor 
Anthon,  who  proffered  to  become  sponsor 
for  it.  which  was  eagerly  accepted  by  Colt. 

About  one  o'clock,  Colt's  brother,  Sam- 
uel, again    arrived,  and  entered   the   cell. 
Colt  was  still  engaged  in  conversation  with 
his  wife,  who  was  sitting  on  the  foot  of  the 
bed,  convulsed  with  tears.     At  Colt's  re- 
quest, John  Howard  Payne  and  Lewis  Gay- 
lord  Clarke  then  went  into  the  cell  to  take 
their  leave  of  him.     Colt  appeared  exceed- 
ingly pleased  to  see  them,  shook  them  cor- 
dially b}^  the  hand,  and  conversed  with  ap- 
parent cheerfulness   with   them    for    five 
minutes,  when  they  bade  him  farewell,  both 
of    them   in  tears.       Colt's   wife,  and    hi.- 
brother  Samuel,  also  soon  left,  both  dee])l\ 
affected.     The  wife  could  scarcely  support 
herself,  so  violent  were   her  feelings  anc 
acute   her  sufferings.      She    stood   at  tlu 
door  of  the   cell   for  a  minute — Colt  kiss- 
ing her  passionately,  straining  her  to  hi.- 
bosom,  and  watdiing  intensely  her  reced- 
ing form,  as  she  passed  into  the  corridor 


532 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Here  she  stood  and  sobbed  convulsively, 
as  though  her  heart  would  break,  until  led 
away  by  friends. 

Colt  now  desired  to  see  the  sheriff,  who 
went  into  his  cell.  Colt  then  told  him 
emphatically  that  he  w^as  innocent  of  the 
murder  of  Adams,  and  that  he  never  in- 
tended to  kill  him  ;  he  also  said  that  he 
had  hopes  that  something  would  intervene 
to  save  him  from  being  hung,  and  begged 
the  sheriff  not  to  execute  the  sentence  of 
the  law  upon  him.  The  sheriff  told  him 
to  banish  all  hope  of  that  kind,  for  he 
must  die  at  four  o'clock.  He  then  asked 
to  see  Doctor  Anthon,  who  went  into  his 
cell,  and  remained  in  prayer  with  him 
about  ten  minutes.  At  the  close  of  this, 
Colt  again  sent  for  the  sheriff,  and  said  to 
him,  "If  there  are  any  gentlemen  present 
who  wish  to  see  me,  and  take  their  leave 
of  me,  I  shall  be  happy  to  see  them." 

This  was  announced  by  the  sheriff,  and 
all  present,  with  one  or  two  exceptions, 
passed  up  to  his  cell  door,  shook  him  by 
tlie  hand,  and  took  their  leave  of  him. 
To  one  gentleman  connected  with  the 
press,  he  said :  "  I've  spoken  harshly  of 
some  of  the  press,  but  I  do  not  blame  you 
at  all  ;  it  was  all  my  own  fault.  There 
were  things  that  ought  to  have  been  ex- 
plained. I  know  you  have  a  good  heart, 
and  I  forgive  you  from  my  soul  freely  ; 
may  God  bless  you,  and  may  you  prosper." 

He  then  requested  the  keeper,  Mr. 
Greene,  to  let  him  be  left  alone  until  the 
last  moment.  This  was  about  two  o'clock. 
His  cell  was  closed,  and  he  was  left  alone 
till  twenty  minutes  to  three,  when  some 
friends  of  the  sheriff,  apprehending  that 
an  attempt  at  suicide  might  be  made  by 
Colt,  desired  deputy  sheriff  Hillyer  to  go 
to  Colt's  cell  door,  and  request  to  wish  him 
'  good  bye.'     Colt   was   then  walking  up 


and  down  his  cell,  but  turned  around  on  the 
door  opening,  smiled  on  Hillyer,  shook  him 
by  the  hand  and  kissed  him,  as  he  did  sev- 
eral of  those  who  had  just  previously  bid 
him  farewell  in  this  life.  He  said  to  Hill- 
yer, "  God  bless  you,  and  may  you  prospei 
in  this  life,  which  is  soon  to  close  on  me." 
From  this  time,  the  excitement  around 
the  prison  increased  tremendously,  and  the 
feelings  of  those  in  the  prison  were  also 
w'orked  up  to  a  pitch  of  great  intensity. 
No  one,  however,  entered  his  cell  till  pre- 
cisely five  minutes  to  four  o'clock,  at  which 
time  Sheriffs  Hart  and  Westervelt,  dressed 
in  uniform,  and  accompanied  by  Doctor 
Anthon,  jiroceeded  to  the  cell.  On  the 
keeper  opening  the  door.  Doctor  Anthon, 
who  Avas  first,  threw  up  his  hands  and  eyes 
to  Heaven,  and  uttering  a  faint  ejaculation, 
turned  pale  as  death  and  retired.  "As  I 
thought,"  said  the  keeper.  "  As  I  thought," 
said  others.  And  going  into  the  cell,  there 
lay  Colt  on  his  back,  stretched  out  at  full 
length  on  the  bed,  quite  dead,  but  not 
cold.  A  clasp  knife,  like  a  small  dirk 
knife,  with  a  broken  handle,  was  sticking 
in  his  heart.  He  had  stabbed  himself 
about  the  fifth  rib,  on  the  left  side.  His 
temples  were  yet  warm.  His  vest  was 
open,  the  blood  had  flowed  freely,  and  his 
hands,  which  were  lying  across  the  stom- 
ach, were  very  bloody ;  he  had  evidently 
worked  and  turned  the  knife  round  and 
round  in  his  heart  after  stabbing  himself, 
until  he  made  quite  a  large  gash.  His 
mouth  was  open,  his  ej'es  partially  so,  and 
his  body  lay  as  straight  on  the  bed  as  if 
laid  out  for  a  funeral  by  others.  Most 
strange  to  say,  just  at  this  moment,  the 
large  cupola  of  the  prison  was  discovered 
to  be  on  fire,  and  burned  furiously.  The 
scene  and  circumstances  were  tragical  to  », 
degree  altogether  indescribable. 


LXII. 

THE  UNITED  STATES  GRINNELL  EXPEDITIONS  OF  1850 
AND  1853,  TO  THE  ARCTIC  SEAS.— 1850. 


Search  for  Sir  John  Franklin,  the  Lost  Navigator. — Traces  of  His  Melancholy  and  Mysterious  Fate. — 
Dr.  Kane's  Discovery  of  an  Open  Polar  Sea,  Tliree  Thousand  Square  Miles  in  Area. — The  "Great 
Glacier,"  a  Lofty  and  Dazzling  Ice-Wall  of  Boundless  Dimensions. — The  "  Stars  and  Stripes  "  Car- 
ried Farther  North  than  any  other  Flag. — Origin  of  this  Undertaking. — Franklin's  Bold  Enterprise  — 
No  Tidings  of  him  for  Years. — Vessels  Sent  in  Search. — Lady  Franklin's  Warm  Appeal — Mr.  Grin- 
nell'a  Noble  Response  — Fits  out  Dellaven's  Expedition. — Sailing  of  the  Advance  and  Rescue  — Frank- 
lin's Winter  Quarters  Found — Dellaven  Imbedded  in  Ice. — Eighty  Days  of  Polar  Darkness — Fruit- 
less Efforts  :  Return  Home — Renewed  Search  by  Dr.  Kane. — At  the  Extreme  Solitary  North  — Its  Ter- 
ror and  Sublimity. — Mercury  and  Whiskey  Freeze  Solid. — No  Sunlight  for  Five  Months. — A  Vast 
Crystal  Bridge. — It  Connects  Two  Continents. — Kane  Ice  Bound:  Awful  Perils  — One  Thousand  Three 
Hundred  Miles  Traveled  in  Sledges  — Final  Escape  :  Arrival  Home. — Dr.  Hayes's  Heroic  Adventures. 


"  Waste  and  wild  the  view  I 
An  endless  desert,  where  extreme  of  cold 
Ettrnal  sits,  as  in  his  native  seat. 
In  wintry  hills  of  never-thawing  ice." 


OYAGES  and  expeditions  of  discovery  to  the  Arctic  waters,  on  the 
part  of  European  nations,  have  been  quite  numerous,  in  modern 
times  ;  but  it  was  not  until  the  year  1850,  that  the  epoch  of  Arctic 
adventure  commenced  in  the  United  States.  The  main  object  of  the 
enterprising  expedition  of  Polar  discovery  which  sailed  from  Amer- 
ica, ift  May,  of  the  year  just  named,  was  to  search  for  Sir  John 
Franklin,  the  celebrated  English  explorer  of  that  ice-bound  region, 
who  sailed  from  the  Thames,  in  the  spring  of  1845,  in  command  of  the  ships  Erebus 
and  Terror,  but,  not  returning,  his  probable  fate  absorbed  the  minds  of  the  whole  Brit- 
ish public  to  the  highest  degree, — every  theory  being  discussed  which  would  account 
for  his  prolonged  absence,  and  every  means  brought  into  requisition,  by  which  succor 
could  be  rendered.  Several  expeditions  were  sent  out  from  England,  in  quest  of  the 
gallant  Franklin,  but  without  any  more  positive  result  than  the  finding  of  a  few  distinct 
though  unproductive  traces  of  his  melancholy  and  mysterious  fate.  Lady  Franklin 
equipped  an  expedition  at  her  own  expense ;  and  also  made  an  affecting  appeal  to  the 
United  States  government,  to  lend  its  aid  in  furthering  the  search.  This  was  responded 
to,  with  a  hearty  good-will,  by  the  American  people  ;  and  called  forth  the  munificent 
offer  of  ten  thousand  dollars  from  Mr.  Henry  Grinnell,  a  wealthy  and  honored  merchant 
and  philanthropist,  of  New  York,  in  behalf  of  an  expedition  that  should  sail  under  the 
American  flag,  for  the  far-off  region  of  the  lost  adventurers.  This  offer  was  accepted 
and  the  enterprise    soon  asumed  a  definite   character.       Mr.  Grinnell   supplying    the 


534 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


vessels  and  means,  and  tlie  national  gov- 
ernment the  men  and  the  discipline.  On 
account  of  this  union  of  governmental  and 
individual  patronage,  the  enterprise  was 
called  "  The  United  States  GrinneU  Expe- 
dition in  Search  of  Sir  John  Franklin.'' 

On  the  23d  of  May,  this  expedition  em- 
barked from  New  York.  It  consisted  of 
two  brigs,  the  Advance  and  Rescue, 
manned  by  thirty-eight  men.  They  were 
placed  under  the  command  of  Lieut.  E.  J. 
DeHaven  ;  and  Doctor  E.  K.  Kane  was 
appointed  surgeon  and  naturalist  to  the 
expedition.  The  other  principal  officers 
were  Messrs.  Griffin,  Murdaugh,  Carter, 
Lovell,  Brooks,  and  Vreeland.  A.i  hands, 
officers  and  men,  were  thoroughly  equipped 
for  Arctic  duty. 

On  the  beginning  of  July,  the  vessels 
were  in  Baffin  Bay,  struggling  on  amidst 
icebergs  and  ice-floes,  which  increased  in 
number  and  perplexity  as   Melville  Bay 


was  approached.  The  passage  of  the  lat- 
ter was  an  arduous  affair,  and  so  tedious 
that  little  hope  was  entertained  of  reach- 
ing Barrow  Strait  before  the  close  of 
the  season;  but,  much  to  their  surprise, 
they  entered  Wellington  Sound  on  the 
2()th  of  August,  1850,  and  were  among  the 
first  to  explore  Cape  Riley  and  Beechey 
Island,  where  they  strui-k  upon  unmistak- 
alile  evidence  of  Franklin's  first  winter 
quarters — three  graves  with  inscriptions 
on  wooden  head-boards,  dating  as  late  as 
April,  1846 ;  their  inmates,   according  to 


these  inscriptions,  were  of  his  crew,  two 
being  from  the  Ei'ebus  and  one  from  the 
Terror.  There  were,  besides,  fragments 
of  canvas,  articles  of  clothing,  wood  and 
cordage,  undoubted  proof  of  a  large  and 
long  encampment, — but  affording  no  indi- 
cations which  would  serve  as  guides  to  the 
searchers  or  give  assurance  to  hope- 
After  severa^  ineffectual  efforts  to  con- 
tinue the  search,  which  were  frustrated  by 
the  great  accumulation  of  ice.  Lieutenant 
DeHaven  determined  on  returning  hoipe, 
but  found  that  they  were  locked  in,  near 
the  mouth  of  AVellington's  Channel.  And 
now  commenced  the  wonderful  ice-drift, 
the  account  of  which  roads  more  like  ro- 
mance than  reality.  In  battling  with  the 
ice  the  Rescue  became  disabled,  and  all 
her  crew  were  removed  to  the  Advance. 
By  force  of  the  northern  ice-drift  they 
were  helplessly  drifted  to  75°  25'  north 
latitude,  and  thence  drifted  again  into 
Lancaster  Sound.  The  agitation  of  the 
ice  elevated  the  Advance  some  seven  feet 
by  the  stern,  and  keeled  her  nearly  three 
feet  starboard.  In  this  position  she  re- 
mained, with  some  slight  changes,  for  five 
consecutive  months.  It  was  while  im- 
bedded in  their  huge  ice  cradle  that  they 
were  carried  up  Wellington  Channel  to 
the  degree  of  latitude  already  named,  and 
there  they  saw  land  to  the  north-west  to 
which  the  name  of  Grinnell  was  given. 
While  in  the  midst  of  their  ice  island, 
which  was  five  miles  long  and  three  broad, 
the  depth  of  winter  was  around  them,  in 
all  its  frozen  terrors.  The  polar  night  fell 
upon  them,  and  for  eighty  days  no  ray  of 
solar  light  broke  ujion  their  vision.  The 
thermometer  ranged  forty  degrees  below 
zero,  and  sometimes  sank  to  forty-six. 
They  every  moment  expected  the  embrac- 
ing ice  would  crush  the  vessel  to  atoms, 
and  consequently  stood  prepared,  sleeping 
in  their  clothes,  with  knapsacks  on  their 
backs,  to  try  their  chances  on  the  ice,  mid 
storm,  and  terror,  and  night.  They  were 
then  ninety  miles  from  land.  The  scurvy, 
too,  broke  out,  only  three  men  escaping 
an  attack  ;  but  it  finally  j'ielded  to  a  bev- 
erage composed  of  a  sort  of  apple  tea  and 


GRExVT  AND  MEiAlORABLE  EVENTS. 


635 


lemon  juice.  The  stores,  materials,  aiul 
cordage,  were  stowed  away  in  snow-liouses 
erected  on  the  ice,  where  the  party  formed 
a  sort  of  encampment. 

But  this  situation  of  peril  and  awe  was 
not  wholly  without  its  attractions.  Auro- 
ras, parhelia — mock  suns,  and  mock  moons 
— of  the  most  vivid  luster,  succeeded  one 
another  without  intermission,  and  as  day 
approai^hed,  the  twilights,  streaking  the 
northern  horizon,  were  vividly  beautiful. 
At  length,  the  orb  of  day  showed  his 
golden  face,  and  was  hailed  with  three 
hearty  American  cheers.  Gradually  his 
influence  was  felt,  and  the  waxen-like  color 
of  the  complexion,  which  the  long  night 
had  superinduced,  gave  j^lace  to  freckles 
and  tan.  The  Rescue  was  re-occupied  on 
the  1.3 th  of  May. 

The  disruption  of  the  ice  was  sudden 
and  appalling.  In  twenty  minutes  from 
its  first  moving,  the  vast  field,  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  reach,  became  one  mass  of 
moving  floes,  and  the  expedition  once  more 
drifted  southward.  On  the  lOtli  of  June, 
having  passed  the  perils  of  Lancaster 
Sound  and  Baffin  Bay,  they  emerged  into 
open  water,  a  little  south  of  the  Arctic  cir- 
cle, being  thus  released  from  an  imprison- 
ment of  almost  nine  months,  during  which 
they  helplessly  drifted  nearly  eleven  hun- 
dred miles.  While  in  Lancaster  Sound, 
the  roar  of  the  rolling  water  and  tumblingr 
ice  exceeded  all  earthly  tumult,  and  was 
sonratimas  so  loud  and  stunning  as  to  ren- 
der both  voice  and  hearing  useless. 

Once  more  in  open  water,  and  the  ves- 
sels being  in  good  order,  the  gallant  com- 
mmdar  determined  to  renew  the  search 
for  Franklin.  Bearing  northward,  the 
vessels  reached  Baffin  Island,  July  11th, 
and  entered  through  vast  masses  of  loose 
ice.  By  the  eighth  of  August,  the  expedi- 
tion became  completely  entangled  in  floes 
and  bergs,  and  again  encountered  perils 
of  the  most  alarming  kind.  The  floating 
ice  broke  in  the  bulwarks,  and  covered  the 
decks  in  broken  masses ;  but  against  all 
this,  the  vessels  showed  themselves  proof, 
and,  by  the  nineteenth  of  August,  were  safe 
in  an  open  road.     Finding,  however,  the 


north  and  west  already  closed  against  them 
by  the  impassable  ice,  and  being  warned 
by  the  fast-waning  season,  that,  to  persist 
longer  in  the  trial  would  be  to  run  the  risk 
of  si)ending  another  winter  like  the  last, 
the  connnander  determined  to  set  sail 
homeward,  and  the  expedition  arrived  at 
New  York,  September  30,  1851,  without 
the  loss  of  a  single  man. 

The  e(]ual  ill  success  thus  far  attending 
the  English  and  American  efforts  to  dis- 
cover Franklin's  fate,  instead  of  discourag- 
ing, tended  rather  to  stimulate  fresh  exer- 
tions, and,  foremost  among  the  hopeful 
spirits  in  this  country,  was  Dr.  E.  K.  Kane, 
one  of  the  most  intrepid  members  of  the 
American  exploring  party  under  DeHaven. 
In  the  month  of  December,  1852,  there- 
fore, he  was  commissioned  by  the  United 
States  government  to  conduct  an  exj^edi- 
tion  to  the  Arctic  seas,  in  renewed  search 
of  the  lost  navigator.  The  combined  lib- 
erality of  Mr.  Grinnell  and  Mr.  George 
Peabody  placed  the  Advance  at  Doctor 
Kane's  disposal,  and  the  national  authori- 
ties co-operated  in  this  final  effort  in  the 
interests  of  humanity  and  science. 

On  the  thirtieth  of  INIa}',  1853,  Doctor 
Kane  sailed  from  New^  York,  in  his  stout 
little  craft,  the  Advance,  a  brig  of  about 
one  hundred  and  fift}'  tons,  and  manned 
with  picked  men,  among  whom  were  those 
intrepid  spirits,  Hayes,  Godfrej',  ]\IcGary, 
Bonsall,  Morton,  and  Goodfellow.  His 
plan  was  to  enter  Smith  Sound  at  the 
tojj  of  Baffin  Bay,  and  thus  to  reach,  if 
possible,  the  northerly  open  sea,  which 
was  supposed  to  exist,  and  where  he  hoped 
to  obtain  a  clue  to  the  missing  navigators. 
Great  success  attended  the  expedition  dur- 
ing the  first  summer.  The  party  reached 
the  headland  of  Smith  Sound  as  early  as 
August  6th,  1853,  when  further  progress 
became  difficult  on  account  of  the  great 
accumulation  of  ice.  The  vessel  was,  how- 
ever, warped  through  the  pack,  and  the 
expedition  finally  gained  the  northern  face 
of  Greenland,  at  a  point  never  before 
reached.  Here  the  ice  froze  around  the 
vessel,  and  compelled  them  to  seek  a  win- 
ter asylum,  in   which   they   experienced  s. 


536 


OUK  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


degree  of  cold  much  below  any  previous 
registration.  A^'liiskey  froze  in  November, 
and  for  four  montiis  in  the  year  the  mer- 
cury was  solid  daily.  Of  course,  the  ne- 
cessity of  protection  against  such  a  temper- 
ature was  critical  and  unceasing.  An 
observatory  was  erected,  a  thermal  regis- 
ter kept  hourly,  and  magnetic  observations 
recorded. 

But,  with  enterprising  forecast,  Doctor 
K'Tue  sent  out  parties, — in  the  conduct  of 
wliich,  Messrs.  Brooks,  Ohlsen,  Petersen, 
Hickey,  and  Sontag,  were  conspicuously 
useful, — to  establish  provision  depots  to 
the  north,  to  facilitate  researches  in  the 
spring.  Three  of  these  depots  were  thus 
provided,  tlie  most  distant  being  in  lati- 
tude 79°  12  '.     These  operations,  however, 


THE  AUVANCK  AND  KESCUE. 

were  arrested  by  darkness,  in  November, 
and  the  crew  prepared  to  spend  one  Inin- 
dred  and  forf//  days  without  the  light  of 
the  sun  !  The  thermometer  fell  to  sixty- 
seven  degrees  below  zero.  Chloroform 
froze,  and  chloric  ether  became  solid.  Tlie 
twenty-second  of  December  brought  Avith 
it  the  midnight  of  the  year;  the  fingers 
could  not  be  counted  a  foot  from  the  eyes. 
The  men  kept  up  tlieir  spirits  like  heroes; 
but  most  of  the  dogs  died  of  diseases  of  the 
brain  brought  on  by  the  depressing  influ- 
ences of  the  darkness. 

In  the  ensuing  spring  the  search  was 
commenced,  Doctor  Kane  heading  a  party 
in  March,  along  the  north  coast  of  Green- 
land, which  was  followed  until  progress 
became  arrested  by  a  stupendous  mass  of 
ice  rising  in  lofty  grandeur  to  a  height  of 


five  hundred  feet  abutting  into  the  sea^ 
the  Great  Glacier  of  Humboldt.  Kane's 
description  of  this  grand  spectacle  speaks 
of  it,  in  substance,  as  a  solid  glassy  wall — 
its  curved  face,  sixty  miles  in  length  from 
Cape  Agassiz  to  Cape  Forbes,  vanishing 
into  unknown  space  at  not  more  than  a 
single  day's  railroad  travel  from  the  Pole. 
The  interior  with  which  it  communicated, 
and  from  which  it  issued,  was  an  unsur- 
veyed  ice-ocean,  to  the  eye  of  boundless 
dimensions.  "  It  was  in  full  sight,"  con- 
tinues Doctor  Kane,  "the  mighty  crystal 
bridge  tvltich  connects  tlie  two  continents 
of  America  and  Greenland;  for  Green- 
land, however  insulated  it  may  ultimately 
prove  to  be,  is  strictly  continental.  Its 
least  possible  axis,  measured  from  Cape 
Farewell  to  the  line  of  this  glacier,  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  eightieth  parallel, 
gives  a  length  of  more  than  twelve  hun- 
dred miles,  or  not  materially  less  than  tliat 
of  Australia  from  its  northern  to  its  south- 
ern cape.  Imagine  now  the  center  of  such 
a  continent,  occupied  through  nearly  its 
whole  extent  by  a  deep  unbroken  sea  of 
ice,  that  gathers  perennial  increase  from 
the  water-shed  of  vast  snow-covered  moun- 
tains and  all  tlie  precipitations  of  the  at- 
mosphere upon  its  own  surface.  Imagine 
this,  moving  on  like  a  great  glacial  river, 
seeking  outlets  at  every  fiord  and  valley, 
rolling  icy  cataracts  into  tlie  Atlantic  and 
Greenland  seas,  and,  having  at  last  reached 
the  northern  limit  of  land  that  has  borne 
it  up,  pouring  out  a  mighty  frozen  torrent 
into  unknown  Arctic  space."  This  ingen- 
ious theory  of  the  Great  Glacier  is  still 
furtlu^r  argued  by  Doctor  Kane,  in  liis 
usual  intelligent  and  enthusiastic  manner. 
The  glacier  in  question  must  be  consid- 
ered, until  satisfactory'  proof  can  be  fur- 
nished to  the  contrary,  as  the  onl}^  obstacle 
to  the  insularity  of  Greenland,  or,  in  other 
words,  the  only  barrier  between  Greenland 
and  the  Atlantic.  It  appears,  however,  to 
be  an  effectual  barrier  to  exploration.  But 
in  spite  of  the  difficulty  of  falling  bergs, 
Doctor  Kane  followed  this  glacier  out  to 
sea,  the  party  rafting  themselves  across 
open  water  spaces  upon  masses  of  ice ;  in 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


637 


this  way  the}'  succeeded  in  triiveliiig 
eighty  niik-s  along  its  base,  and  traced  it 
into  a  new  northern  hind. 

But  the  most  memorable  achievement 
of  the  expedition  was  the  discovery  of  the 
opmi  polar  sea.  This  great  water-course 
embraced  an  area  of  three  thousand  square 
miles  entirely  free  from  ice.  It  washed  a 
bold  and  mountainous  coast,  which  was 
charted  as  high  as  latitude  82^*  30'.  This 
discovery  was  due  to  the  perseverance  of  a 
party  in  charge  of  William  Morton.  From 
the  high  point  of  observation  to  which  this 
intrepid  adventurer  attained,  not  a  speck 
of  ice  could  be  seen.  "  There,  from  a 
height  of  four  hundred  and  eighty  feet, 
which  commanded  a  horizon  of  almost 
forty  miles,  his  ears  were  gladdened  with 
the  novel  music  of  dashing  waves  ;  and  a 
surf,  breaking  in  among  the  rocks  at  his 
feet,  stayed  his  further  progress."  Mor- 
ton gave  to  the  cape  which  arrested  his 
progress,  the  name  of  Kane,  in  honor  of 
his  commander ;  but  the  latter,  with  char- 
acteristic modesty,  changed  it  to  Cape 
Constitution.  The  land  attached  to  Green- 
land by  ice  was  named  Washington ;  and 
that  to  the  north  and  west  of  the  channel 
leading  out  of  Smith  Sound,  was  called 
Grinnell. 

The  second  winter  was  one  of  great  suf- 
fering— scurvy  attacked  the  party,  and  at 
one  time  every  man  of  the  expedition,  ex- 
cept Doctor  Kane  and  Mr.  Bonsall,  was 
laid  up  by  that  disease.  To  aggravate 
their  misfortunes,  there  was  a  deficiency 
of  fuel,  and  they  were  even  obliged  to 
adopt  the  habits  of  the  Esquimaux,  and 
eat  raw  walrus  flesh.  To  encounter  a  third 
winter,  would,  it  was  thought,  involve  the 
destruction  of  the  party,  and  of  course  in 
no  manner  advance  the  search  for  Frank- 
lin. Ice-ribbed  and  solitary,  in  that  vast 
and  cheerless  region.  Doctor  Kane  at  last 
concluded  that  the  onl}--  safety  of  the  party 
lay  in  an  abandonment  of  the  brig  and  an 
attempt  to  escape  by  crossing  the  southern 
ice  on  sledges,  —  a  conclusion  heartily 
adopted  by  all  the  members  of  the  party. 

This  was  in  May,  1855,  and  the  parting 
scene,  as  narrated  by  Doctor  Kane,  was 


one  of  peculiar  solemnity.  A  brief  memo- 
rial of  the  facts  leading  to  the  abandon- 
ment of  the  brig,  was  prepared  and  read 
by  the  commajider,  after  which  it  was  fixed 
to  a  stanchion  near  the  gangway,  where  it 
would  attract  the  notice  of  any  who  might 
come  at  a  future  time.  They  then  went 
upon  deck ;  the  flags  were  hoisted  and 
hauled  down  again ;  and  the  party  walked 
once  or  twice  around  the  brig,  looking  at 
her  timbers  and  exchanging  comments 
ujion  the  scars  which  reminded  them  of 
every  stage  of  her  dismantling.  When  all 
hands  were  ready,  they  scrambled  off  over 
the  ice  together,  and  on  reaching  the  place 
of  muster,  each  man  was  provided  with  a 
woolen  underdress  and  an  Esquimaux  suit 
of  fur  clothing,  with  boots  made  by  the 
party  themselves — that  is,  one  pair  made 
of  canvas  faced  with  Avalrus  hide,  and 
another  inside  made  of  the  cabin  Brussels 
carpet.  In  addition  to  this,  each  carried  a 
'  rue-raddy '  adjusted  to  fit  him  comforta- 
bly,  a  i^air  of  socks  next  his  skin,  and  a 
pair  of  large  goggles  for  snow  blindiie.  s, 
made  Esquimaux  fashion  by  cutting  a 
small  slit  in  a  piece  of  wood.  Some  of 
them  had  gutta  percha  masks  fitting 
closely  to  the  face.  Excluding  four  sick 
men,  who  were  unable  to  move,  and  Doc- 
tor Kane,  who  had  to  drive  the  dog-team 
and  serve  as  common  carrier  and  courier, 
they  numbered  twelve  men.  The  routine 
established  consisted  of  daily  prayers  both 
morning  and  evening,  all  hands  gathering 
round  in  a  circle  and  standing  uncovered 
during  the  short  exercise ;  regulated 
hours ;  fixed  duties  and  positions  at  the 
track  lines  and  on  the  halt;  the  cooking 
to  be  taken  by  turns,  the  captains  of  the 
boats  alone  being  excused.  Doctor  Hayes 
had  charge  of  the  log,  and  Mr.  Sontag  of 
the  running  survey.  To  boatswain  Brooks 
was  assigned  the  command  of  the  boats 
and  sledges ;  the  jiarty  under  him  was  mar- 
shaled at  the  rue-raddies  as  a  single  gang, 
but  the  messes  were  arranged  with  refer- 
ence to  the  two  whale-boats,  and  on  com- 
ing afterward  to  the  open  water  the  crews 
were  distributed  in  the  same  way. 

Thus   organized,  they  set  out  on  their 


538 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


long  and  perilous  marcli.  They  spent 
their  first  niglit  in  an  inlet  in  the  ice. 
Sometimes  they  would  sail  through  creeks 
of  water  for  many  hours ;  then  would  fol- 
hnv  days  of  weary  tracking  through  alter- 
nate   ice    and    water, 


During    a    violent 


^^  '^C^^ 


storm,  they  dragged  the  boats  upon  a  nar- 
row shelf  of  ice,  and  found  themselves 
within  a  cave  which  myriads  of  eider  had 
made  their  breeding  ground.  They  re- 
mained tliree  days  in  this  crystal  retreat, 
and  gathered  three  tliousand  eggs.  On 
tlie  eleventh  of  June,  they  doubled  Cape 
Dudley  Digges,  and  spent  a  week  at  Provi- 
dence Halt,  luxuriating  on  a  dish  composed 
of  birds  sweeter  and  juicier  than  canvas- 
backs,  and  a  salad  made  of  raw  eggs  and 
cochlearia.  The  keen  relish  with  Avhich 
the  party  ate  of  these  unexpected  dainties 
may  be  judged  of,  when  it  is  considered 
that,  in  arranging  for  their  fare,  before 
starting,  provision-bags  were  made  of  sail- 
cloth rendered  impervious  by  coats  of  tar — 
into  these  the  bread  was  i)ressed  b}''  beat- 
ing it  to  powder  with  a  capstan-bar;  and 
the  tallow  and  pork  fat  were  melted  down 
and  poured  into  other  bags  to  freeze. 

For  eighty-four  days,  the  party  contin- 
ued to  travel  with  Iheir  l)oats  and  sledges, 
enrliiring  great  privations  and  narrowly 
escaping  with  their  lives,  until,  on  the 
ninth  of  August,  1855,  they  reached  Uper- 
navik,  a  north  Danish  settlement  in  Green- 
land, Jtaviag  traveled,  hi  the  open  air,  thh'- 


teen  hundred  miles  !     ]\Ieanwhile,  so  great 
Avas  the  anxiety  felt  for  the  safety  of  the 
expedition  at  home,  en  account  of  the  long 
period   of  time   that  elapsed  without  any 
tidings  of  them  coming  to  hand,  that  the 
United  States  government  dispatched  two 
vessels    under    command    of    Captain 
Hartstene,  to  their  relief,  in  the  spring 
of    1855;    this   expedition    penetrated 
as  far  as  78''  32',  beyond  whicli  prog- 
ress was  found  impossible.     On  return- 
ing, they  had  the  good  fortune  to  find 
Doctor    Kane    and    his    party   on    the 
Greenland    coast,    and    arrived    home 
Avith  them  in  October.     The  death  of 
two  of  his  men,  Baker  and  Schubert, 
Avas  to  Doctor  Kane  the  saddest  fact 
in  the  liistory  of  the  expedition. 

Although  Doctor  Kane's  expedition 

failed  to  accomplish  its  chief  purpose, 

it  was  not  Avithout  important  results  in 

/?      /    the  interests  of  geographical  science,  as 

related  to  that  mysterious  and  Avonder- 

ful  region — the  Arctic.     These  results,  as 

enumerated  b}^  Doctor  Kane,  Avere,  in  brief, 

as  follows : 

First,  the  snrA'ey  and  delineation  of  the 
north  coast  of  Greenland,  to  its  termina- 
tion by  a  great  glacier.  Second,  the  sur- 
vey of  this  glacial  mass,  and  its  extension 
northward  into  the  new  land  named  Wash- 
ington. Third,  the  discover}^  of  a  large 
channel  to  the  north-Avest,  free  from  ice, 
and  leading  into  an  open  and  expanding 
area  equally  free.  Fourth,  the  Avhole  em- 
braces an  iceless  area  of  four  thousand  two 
hundred  miles.  Fifth,  the  discovery  and 
delineation  of  a  large  tract  of  land,  form- 
ing the  extension  northward  of  the  Amer- 
ican continent.  Sixth,  the  completed  sur- 
vey of  the  American  coast  to  the  south 
and  Avest  as  far  as  Cape  Sabine,  thus  con- 
necting the  survey  Avith  the  last  determined 
position  of  Captain  Inglefield,  and  complet- 
ing the  circuit  of  the  straits  and  bay  here- 
tofore knoAvn  at  their  southernmost  open- 
ing as  Smith  Sound. 

To  the  above  gratifying  summary  of  the 
laboriously  earned  results  of  the  expedi- 
tion, is  to  be  added  aiiother  honorable  item, 
namely,  that  it  carried  tlie  stars  and  stripes 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


539 


of  the  young  republic  furtlier  nortJi  than 
any  other  fiiuj  had  ever  been  borne.  But 
this,  together  with  the  other  chronicles 
and  reminiscences  of  the  expedition  are 
related  in  full  by  its  historian,  Doctor 
Kane, — a  deeply  interesting  work,  far  ex- 
ceeding in  thrilling  incident  the  works  of 
Defoe  and  Kiley,  and  possessing  like  the 
narratives  of  AVilkes,  Featherstonaugh, 
Brackenridge,  Marcy,  Parker,  Hayes,  Hall, 
etc.,  a  permanent  value.  This  work,  com- 
pleted b}'  Doctor  Kane  only  a  short  time 
preceding  his  early  and  lamented  demise, 
is  appropriately  dedicated  '•  To  Hexry 
Grixxell,  the  Author,  and  Advocate,  and 
Patron  of  the  United  States  Expedition  in 
Search  of  Sir  John  Franklin." 

One  of  the  most  heroic  journeys  of  ex- 
ploration, undertaken  in  connection  with 
Doctor  Kane's  great  expedition,  was  that 
headed  by  Dr.  Isaac  J.  Hayes,  who,  with 
eight  adventurous  companions,  were  absent 
from  the  Advance  from  August  to  Decem- 
ber. 1854:,  As  related  by  that  accom- 
plished traveler  and  man  of  science,  in  his 


them  included  more  than  a  thousand  miles 
of  ice  and  water.  For  the  first  eight  days, 
the  party  were  occupied  in  dragging  their 
boat — a  whale-boat,  twenty-four  feet  long 
and  live  and  a  half  feet  beam — from  the 
brig  to  the  open  water,  a  distance  of  about 
fifteen  miles.  Having  reached  the  open 
water,  they  set  out  u])on  their  dangerous 
navigation.  On  the  second  day,  they  ran 
into  the  pack,  a  dangerous  jjosition  even 
for  full-sized  ships;  their  onl}'  resource 
to  drag  the  boat  and  its  cargo  on  to  the 
largest  floe  they  could  find,  and  wait  until 
it  was  imbedded  in  a  field  of  ice  which 
was  likely,  for  a  time  at  least,  to  remain 
moderately  steady.  Whilst  entangled  in 
the  pack,  they  approached  the  })lace  where 
Doctor  Kane  had  left  an  iron  life-boat  on 
his  passage  out.  Three  of  the  party,  of 
whom  Doctor  Hayes  was  one,  set  off  across 
the  ice  to  reach  the  life-boat,  and  having 
found  it  in  a  little  cove  on  a  small  island, 
passed  a  most  dreary  night  there.  Doctor 
Hayes  and  one  of  the  men  running  up  and 
down    all    night    long    to    avoid    freezing. 


VIEW  OF  THE  ARCTIC  REGIONS 

wonderful  volume,  "An  Arctic  Boat  Jour- 
ney," it  appears  to  have  been  one  of  the 
most  extraordinary  exhibitions  of  hardi- 
hood and  endurance  ever  recorded. 

Starting  with  stores  calculated  to  last 
for  four  or  five  weeks,  the  journey  before 


And  now,  barely  outliving  a  terrible  storm 
which  overtook  them,  they  reached  a  point 
about  sixteen  miles  south  of  Cape  Parrj-, 
and  probably  more  than  two  hundred 
south   of  Rensselaer  Harbor,  where  were 


Doctor  Kane  and   the   brig.     DiflQculties 


540 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


beset  them  at  every  step.  For  example,  on 
one  occasion,  whilst  the  rest  of  the  part}' 
were  sleeping,  one  of  them  was  deputed  to 
cook  in  a  small  tent  erected  for  the  purpose. 
The  cooking  apparatus  consisted  of  a  lamp 
over  which  a  kettle  was  boiled.  The  party 
had  tasted  nothing  for  eighteen  hours,  and 
it  took  no  less  than  six  more  to  jorepare  a 
stew  of  fox  and  sea-gull,  for  the  lamp  was 
constantly  blown  out  just  as  the  pot  was 
beginning  to  boil,  and  before  it  could  be 
relighted — which  operation  with  damp  tin- 
der and  a  flint  and  steel  once  occupied  half 
an  hour — the  stew  was  frozen  over. 

The  prospects  of  Doctor  Hayes's  party, 
when  their  hopes  of  getting  further  south 
were  finally  abandoned,  were  excessively 
gloomy.  They  had  the  winter  before  them, 
and  their  jirovisions  and  fuel  were  barely 
sufficient  for  two  weeks ;  whilst  the  fuel, 
though  capable  of  cooking  their  food  and 
melting  the  ice  for  water,  was  not  suffi- 
cient to  warm  the  men  themselves.  Their 
first  necessity  was  to  provide  themselves 
with  some  sort  of  shelter,  and  the  only  one 
which  they  could  procure  was  a  kind  of 
hut,  of  which  two  rocks  formed  two  sides, 
and  the  other  sides  were  made  of  walls  of 
stones,  the  crevices  being  stuffed  with 
moss  and  sand,  both  of  which  had  to  be 
obtained  from  under  the  snow,  by  shovel- 
ing with  a  tin  dinner-})late.  It  was  the 
work  of  some  weeks.  But  there  was  now 
only  a  scanty  allowance  of  food,  and  the 
party  grew  thin  and  weak.  They  suc- 
ceeded in  trapping  two  or  three  foxes,  and 
they  were  obliged  to  eke  out  their  small 
stock  of  provisions  by  eating  rock  lichen. 
The  only  additional  resource  which  the 
party  had  to  look  to  was  that  of  occasionally 
obtaining  provisions  from  the  Esquimaux 
who  casually  visited  them,  and  sometimes 
sold  them  lumps  of  walrus  meat,  or  sea- 
fowls,  in  return  for  pieces  of  wood.  By 
degrees,  however,  the  savages  came  to  un- 
derstand their  true  position.  They  saw  that 
the  white  men  were  starving,  and  that  upon 
their  death  their  property  would  be  left  be- 
hind them  without  the  necessity  for  any 
purchase.  The}',  therefore,  refused  to  sell 
any  dogs,  or  to  undertake,  though  pressed 


to  do  so,  to  convey  the  party  in  dog-sledges 
either  to  Doctor  Kane  or  to  Upernavik. 

This  state  of  things  at  last  became  un- 
bearable, and  Doctor  Hayes,  with  charac- 
teristic courage,  determined  on  i  desperate 
effort  to  save  the  lives  of  himself  and  his 
companions.  Having  with  great  difficulty 
procured  some  dogs  and  contrived  a  sledge, 
they  set  out,  but  after  a  journey  of  a  few 
miles,  most  of  them  were  so  exhausted, 
that  they  could  progress  no  farther.  On 
returning,  two  of  the  part}',  after  a  short 
rest,  set  out  again,  and  reached  the  vessel 
in  safety.  The  remainder  staid  behind, 
in  hopes  of  their  return,  but  soon  after  a 
large  party  of  Esquimaux  with  several 
sledges  and  teams  of  dogs  came  to  visit 
them,  and  again  refused  either  to  sell  or  to 
lend  the  means  of  conveyance. 

The  opportunity  which  this  visit  offered 
could  not,  however,  be  neglected.  They 
were  coaxed  into  good  humor  by  jokes  and 
presents,  and  a  pot  of  soup  was  prepared 
for  them,  into  which  Doctor  Hayes  emp- 
tied a  vial  of  laudanum.  Whilst  they 
were  asleep,  the  party  went  out,  loaded 
the  sledges,  harnessed  the  dogs,  and  set 
off  at  full  gallop  towards  the  brig ! 

The  dogs,  however,  being  but  little  better 
than  wolves,  were  very  wild  and  extremely 
restive,  so  that  one  team  fairly  broke  loose, 
and  carried  the  sledge  back  to  the  hut. 
The  others,  however,  passed  over  a  consid- 
erable part  of  the  journey  towards  the  brig 
before  the  Esquimaux  recovered  from  the 
effects  of  the  laudanum  and  pursued  them. 

At  last,  however,  they  were  overtaken! 
Thereupon,  relying  on  their  guns,  and  on 
the  influence  which  their  moral  and  intel- 
lectual power  confers  upon  civilized  men, 
Doctor  Hayes  and  his  party  declared  that 
they  muat  and  u-onid  return  to  the  brig, 
and  that  the  Esquimaux  must  take  them. 
Ultimately  they  succeeded;  and,  after  a 
frightful  journey,  during  which  they  trav- 
eled one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  in  forty 
hours  in  a  temperature  of  forty-eight  de- 
grees below  zero,  they  reached  the  brig  in 
safety.  The  Esquimaux  were  well  re- 
warded for  their  services,  and  went  back 
in  high  spirits. 


LXIII. 

BRILLIANT   MUSICAL    TOUR    OF   JENNY   LIND,  THE 
"  SWEDISH  NIGHTINGALE."— 1850. 


This  Queen  of  Song  Comes  under  the  Auspices  of  Mr.  Barnum. — Twenty  Thousand  Persons  Welcome 
Her  Arrival.— Transcendent  Heauty  and  Power  of  Her  Voice. — A  Whole  Continent  Enraptured  With 
Her  Enchanting  Melodies. — Pleasant  Exhilaration  of  Feeling  Throughout  the  Land  by  the  Presence 
of  the  Fair  Nightingale.— Honors  from  Webster,  Clay,  and  Other  Dignitaries. — Her  Praises  Fill  the 
Wide  World. — The  Vocal  Prodigy  of  the  Age. — In  Opera,  'The  Daughter  of  the  Regiment."— Bar- 
num's  Happy  Conception  — Proposes  to  Her  this  American  Tour — His  Generous  Terms  Accepted. — 
She  Reaches  New  York. — Sunny  and  Joyous  Outburst. — A  Real  "  Jenny  Lind  "  Era  — First  Concert  at 
Castle  Garden — Tempest  of  Acclamation. — Encores,  Showers  of  Bouquets. — Public  Expectation 
Exceeded — Jenny's  Complete  Triumph. — All  the  Receipts  Given  to  Charity — Equal  Enthusiasm 
Everywhere — Beautiful  Incidents. — bhe  is  a  Guest  at  tlie  White  House. — Henry  Clay  at  Her  Con- 
cert.— Webster  and  the  Nightingale.— A  Scene  "  Not  Down  on  the  Bills." — Ninety-Five  Concerts 
Yield  $700,000. 


*'  So  Boft,  60  clear,  yet  in  so  sweet  a  note. 
It  seemed  the  music  melted  in  her  spirit." 


,-^A 


EALOUSLY  watching,  with  a  practiced  professional  eye,  every  opportu- 
nity to  cater  to  the  ever- varying  tastes  of  a  pleasure-loving  public,  Mr. 
Barnum,   the   ''prince  of  showmen,"   conceived  the  felicitous   idea  of 
inviting  the  renowned  Swedish  songstress,  Jenny  Lind,  whose  praise 
filled  the  wide  world  as  that  of  a  very  divinity,  to  enter  into  an  engage- 
ment witli  him  to  visit  the  United  States,  on  a  prolonged  musical  tour, 
under  his  managing  auspices;  and  tliis  enterprising  design,  the  accom- 
jdished  showman  in  due  time  brought  successfully  about, — its  consum- 
mation   forming   one    of    the    most   brilliant,  joyous  and  exhilarating 
episodes,  viewed  from  whatever  aspect,  in  the  experience  of  the  American  nation, — an 
outl)urst  of  sunny  excitement  and  delight,  all  over  the  land,  at  the  presence  of  that  tran- 
scendent musical  genius,  that  wonderful  vocal  prodigy,  of  modern  times. 

But  before  proceeding  to  the  details  of  this  splendid  and  triumphant  tour,  some 
account  of  the  distinguished  songstress,  in  respect  to  her  fascinating  personal  history 
and  previous  public  career,  will  be  in  place, — derived  and  condensed  from  authentic 
sources, — presenting,  as  it  does,  such  peculiar  points  of  interest. 

The  "Swedish  nightingale" — the  "divine  Jenny," — as  she  came  to  be  called,  as  her 
powers  of  song  were  developed,  was  born  at  Stockholm,  in  1821,  and  her  taste  for  music 
was  indicated  while  yet  in  her  third  year.  At  nine  or  ten,  her  parents,  who  were  in 
reduced  circumstances,  suffered  her  to  go  upon  the  stage,  where  her  success  in  juvenile 
characters  was  astonishing.    But  when  she  had  reached  her  twelfth  year,  after  receiving 


542 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


instruction,  from  some  of  the  first  music 
masters,  she  lost  her  voice.  Loving  music 
for  its  own  sake,  the  "nightingale"  was 
bitterly  afflicted  at  this  calamity,  the  more 
especially  as  her  voice  had  become  a  source 
of  comfortable  existence.  At  sixteen, 
however,  it  returned,  to  her  infinite  joy, 
under  the  following  peculiar  circumstances. 

At  a  concert,  in  which  the  fourth  act  of 
Meyerbeer's  Robert  le  Diahle  had  been 
announced,  it  was  suddenly  discovered  that 
a  singer  to  take  the  part  of  Alice  was 
wanting.  A  short  solo  being  all  that 
Alice  has  to  sing  in  this  act,  none  of  the 
professionals  were  found  desirous  of  under- 
taking the  character.  So  trifling  a  part, 
her  teacher  thought,  would  not  be  marred, 
even  by  Jenny  Lind,  and  accordingly  she 
was  intrusted  with  the  execution  of  the 
insignificant  solo.  As,  from  the  most  arid 
spot  in  the  desert,  water,  sparkling  and 
fresh,  will  sometimes  gush  forth,  so  broke 
out,  on  this  occasion,  the  rich  fountain  of 
song  which  had  so  long  been  latent  in  the 
humble  and  hitherto  silent  nightingale. 
Her  voice  returned  with  all  its  pristine 
sweetness,  and  with  more  than  its  early 
l>ower,  and  the  most  overwhelming  ap- 
plause followed  the  unexpected  discovery 
of  this  mine  of  melody. 

All  doubt  as  to  her  lyrical  excellence 
was  now  gone,  and  towards  the  winter  of 

1838,  she  made  her  first  appearance  on  the 
stage  as  a  singer,  in  the  character  of 
Agatha,  in  Der  Frieschufz.  Her  exquisite 
singing,  and  her  acting,  abounding  in 
point  and  originality,  created  a  deep  sen- 
sation ;  and  she  won  new  laurels  by  her 
representation  of  Alice,  in  the  spring  of 

1839,  and  fully  estal)lished  her  fame  by 
her  subsequent  performance  of  Lucia,  in 
Lucia  dl  Lammennoor.  She  afterwards 
visited  Paris,  to  receive  lessons  from 
Garcia,  the  father  and  instructor  of  the 
ill-fated  Madame  Malibran,  —  a  vocalist 
who,  like  Jenny  Lind,  carried  with  her  the 
hearts  of  her  auditory.  The  reception 
which  that  eminent  composer  gave  her 
was,  at  first,  rather  discouraging.  After 
hearing  her  sing,  he  said — 

"My   dear   young   lad}-,    you  have    no 


voice ;  ^'ou  have  Jiad  a  voice,  and  will  lose 
it ;  you  have  been  singing  too  early  or  too 
much,  and  your  voice  is  worn  to  ruin.  I 
cannot  instruct  you — I  cannot  give  j-ou 
any  hope  at  present.  Sing  not  a  note  for 
three  months,  and  then  see  me  again." 

This  counsel  she  followed,  and  when 
she  re-appeared  before  Garcia,  he  thought 
there  was  some  hope  of  her,  and  gave  her 
the  instructions  which  she  coveted  ;  but  it 
is  remarkalde  that  Garcia  should  never 
have  had  sufficient  penetration  to  discover 
her  innate  genius.  Soon  after  this,  she 
made  the  acquaintance  of  Meyerbeer, 
whose  discrimination  was  more  searching. 
A  rehearsal  was  given,  with  a  full  orches- 
tra, at  the  grand  opera,  Avhere  the  per- 
formance of  Jenny  Lind  so  gratified  the 
composer,  that  he  at  once  offered  her  an 
engagement  at  Berlin. 

At  the  close  of  1842,  she  returned  to 
Stockholm,  where  her  popularity  contin- 
ued to  increase.  Her  fame,  however, 
extending  be^'ond  the  limits  of  Sweden, 
she  was  induced  to  make  a  professional 
visit  to  German}^,  where  public  opinion 
confirmed  that  high  estimate  of  her  abili- 
ties which  had  been  sanctioned  at  home. 

But  it  was  in  England,  that  her  success 
first  touched  the  marvelous  and  sublime; 
and  there  it  was,  that  the  tribute  ajipro- 
priated  by  Shakespeare  to  one  of  his  beau- 
tiful creations — "She  sings  like  one  iuniinr- 
iaV — became  fact,  applied  to  the  Swedish 
nightingale.  Her  Majest^y's  theater  was 
the  first  arena  of  her  triumphs  in  England, 
Queen  Victoria,  by  her  presence  on  the 
opening  night,  offering  her  a  flattering 
and  graceful  tribute.  On  the  evening  of 
May  fifth,  she  made  her  first  essay  before 
an  English  audience,  in  the  character  of 
Alice.  The  uproar  excited  by  her  appear- 
ance on  this  occasion  was  tremendous. 
The  whole  crowded  mass  displayed  an 
astounding  power  of  lungs,  and  hats  and 
handkerchiefs  waved  from  all  parts.  Peo- 
ple came  prepared  to  admire,  but  they 
admired  beyond  the  extent  of  iheir  prep- 
aration. The  delicious  quality  of  the  per- 
formance— the  rich,  gushing  notes,  were 
something  entirely  new  and  fresh.      The 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


543 


auditors  did  not  know  wliat  to  make  of  it. 
They  had  ht-ard  singers  over  and  over 
again;  but  there — tliat  wondrous  tiling! 
— a  new  sensation  was  actiially  created. 
The  sustained  notes  swelling  with  full 
richness,  and  fading  down  to  the  softest 
piano,  without  losing  one  iota  of  their 
quality,  being  delicious  when  loud,  deli- 
cious when  whispered,  which  dwelt  in  the 
public  ear  and  reposed  in  the  public  heart, 
— these  were  the  wonder-exciting  phenom- 
ena. The  impression  made  as  an  actress 
was  no  less  profound  ;  and  even  iii  Vienna, 
the  most  exacting  critics  applauded  her 
performance  of  The  Daurjhter  of  the  Rcg- 
inf.nf^  in  Donnizetti's  renowned  opera, 
as  they  also  did  in  other  cities. 


On  returning  to  Stockholm,  in  1848, 
she  entered  into  an  engagement  with  the 
royal  oj)era,  to  give  a  series  of  concerts. 
On  the  evening  of  her  first  performance, 
the  newspapers  of  the  city  published  a 
note  signed  by  the  renowned  cantatrice,  in 
which  she  stated  that,  in  order  to  give  her 
native  country  a  souvenir  that  might  last 
beyond  her  existence  as  an  artist,  she  had 
determined  on  devoting  the  whole  profits 
of  her  performance  to  the  establishment  of 
a  school  for  poor  3'oung  persons  of  both 
sexes,  born  with  happy  dispositions,  in 
which  they  should  be  gratuitously  taught 


music  and  the  dramatic  art.  This  gener- 
osity excited  to  the  wildest  })if(h,  the 
public  enthusiasm,  and  on  the  time  arriv- 
ing fur  the  sale  of  tickets  for  the  next  day, 
the  place  was  densely  crowded.  This 
state  of  things  continued  to  increase,  until 
about  eleven  o'cldck,  when  the  multitude 
was  such  that  the  police  interfered,  and 
made  the  people  form  en  qunie.  This  was 
accomplished  quietly  enough  ;  but  a  little 
after  midnight  a  compact  mass  of  people 
suddenly  made  an  irruption  from  the 
neighboring  streets,  rushed  on  the  said 
queue,  broke  it,  and  besieged  the  theater. 
The  first  crowd  now  returned,  attacked 
their  aggressors,  and  in  a  few  minutes  a 
desperate  fist  and  foot  combat  ensued. 
The  police  proved  una- 
vailing, and  several  de- 
tachments of  infantry 
arrived;  these  also  were 
formidably  opposed,  and 
only  with  great  trouble 
did  they  succeed  in  keep- 
ing order.  Tickets  were 
paid  for  as  high  as  one 
hundred  dollars.  And 
thus  it  was,  indeed,  in  all 
the  cities  where  the  great 
melodist  held  forth  in 
her  discourse  of  song, — 
the  favor  shown  her  in- 
creasing and  accumulat- 
ing with  her  progress 
from  place  to  place. 
And,  certainly,  all  this 
success  and  fame  was  as 
much  a  matter  of  surprise  to  herself  as  to 
anybody  else  ;  for,  even  in  1845,  remarking 
on  her  intended  performance  in  Copenha- 
gen, at  which  city  she  had  just  arrived,  she 
said,  with  characteristic  modesty — 

"  I  have  never  made  my  appearance  out 
of  Sweden.  Everybody  in  my  own  land  is 
so  affectionate  and  loving  to  me.  If  I 
made  my  appearance  here,  and  should  be 
hissed  !     I  dare  not  venture  on  it." 

But  the  persuasions  of  Boumonville,  the 
ballet-master,  eventually  prevailed,  and 
gained  for  the  Copenhageners  the  greatest 
enjoyment  they  ever  had.     At  one  concert 


544 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


she  sang  lier  Swedish  songs.  They  were 
so  peculiar  and  so  bewitcliing,  that,  uttered 
by  such  a  purelj'-  feminine  being,  tlieir 
sway  was  absolutely  enrapturing.  Her 
singing  was  a  new  revelation  in  the  realm 
of  art.  The  fresh  3'oung  voice  found  its 
way  into  every  heart.  In  her  truth  and 
nature  reigned ;  everything  was  full  of 
meaning  and  intelligence.  She  was  the 
first  artist  to  whom  the  Danish  students 
gave  a  serenade.  Torches  blazed  around 
the  Axilla,  when  the  serenade  was  given, 
and  she  appeared  and  expressed  her  thanks 
by  singing  one  of  her  native  songs  ;  after 
which,  she  was  observed  to  hasten  back 
into  the  darkest  corner  of  the  room  and 
weep  for  emotion. 

^  In  the  history  of  the  opera,  her  advent 
marked  a  new  and  striking  epoch.  She 
showed  the  art  in  all  its  sanctity.  Miss 
Bremer,  writing  to  Hans  Andersen,  said: 
"We  are  both  of  us  agreed  as  to  Jenny 
Lind  as  a  singer.  She  stands  as  high  as 
any  artist  of  our  time  well  can  stand.  But 
as  3'et  you  do  not  know  her  in  her  real 
greatness.  Speak  to  her  of  her  art,  and 
you  will  wonder  at  the  expansion  of  her 
mind.  Her  countenance  is  lighted  with 
inspiration.  Converse  with  her  upon  God, 
and  of  the  holiness  of  religion,  tears  will 
spring  from  those  innocent  eyes.  She  is 
a  great  artist,  but  she  is  still  greater  in 
the  pure  humanity  of  her  existence." 
Indeed,  according  to  Andersen  himself, 
who  was  familiar  with  the  in-door  life  of 
the  winsome  Swede,  nothing  could  lessen 
the  impression  made  by  Jenny  Lind's 
greatness  on  the  stage,  save  her  personal 
character  in  her  own  home.  Her  intelli- 
gent and  child-like  disposition  exercised 
there  a  singular  power;  and  there  she  was 
happy,  belonging  no  longer  to  the  world. 
Yet  she  loved  art  with  her  whole  soul. 
She  felt  her  vocation.  Her  noble  and 
pious  disposition  could  not  be  spoiled  by 
homage.  On  one  occasion  only,  says 
Andersen,  did  she  express,  in  his  hearing, 
her  joy  and  self-consciousness  in  her  talent, 
and  this  occurred  as  follows  :  She  heard  of 
a  society,  the  object  of  which  was  to 
encourage  the  rescue  of  unfortunate  chil- 


dren from  the  hands  of  their  parents,  by 
whom  they  were  compelled  to  beg  or  steal, 
and  place  them  in  better  circumstances. 
Benevolent  people  subscribed  annually  for 
their  support,  yet  the  means  for  this 
excellent  purpose  were  but  small.  ''  I 
have  an  evening  disengaged,"  said  Jenny 
Lind ;  "  I  will  give  a  performance  for  these 
poor  children,  but  we  must  have  double 
23rices."  Such  a  performance  was  given, 
and  returned  large  proceeds.  When  she 
heard  the  amount,  her  countenance  lit  uj), 
and  tears  filled  her  eyes.  "It  is,  however, 
beautiful,"  said  she,  "that  I  can  sing  so." 

Having  performed  in  almost  all  the 
principal  cities  and  towns  in  Europe,  to 
vast  crowds  Avho  were  almost  frantic  in 
their  demonstrations  of  delight,  as  well  as 
in  the  presence  of  almost  every  crowned 
head  on  the  continent,  winning  their 
admiring  homage,  and  gaining  a  fame  wide 
as  the  world  and  as  bright  and  pure  as  the 
stars,  Jenny  Lind's  inclination  appeared  to 
be  to  retire,  at  least  for  a  while,  on  the 
conclusion  of  her  engagement  in  England, 
to  the  tranquillity  of  home  life. 

It  was  at  this  point  in  her  wonderful 
career,  that  Mr.  Barnum,  through  his  spe- 
cially commissioned  agent,  proposed  the 
most  liberal  and  honorable  terms  to  Jennv 
Lind,  to  give  a  series  of  concerts  in  the 
United  States.  The  proposals  made  l)y 
Mr.  Barnum  were  so  generous,  and  char- 
acterized by  such  delicate  and  gentlemanly 
consideration,  in  every  respect,  that,  not- 
withstanding several  jiarties  were  likewise 
attempting,  at  the  same  time,  to  negotiate 
Avith  her  for  an  American  tour,  she  uidies- 
itatingly  decided  to  treat  with  ]\Ir.  Bar- 
num, wh.o  was,  on  his  own  bidding,  to 
assume  all  the  responsibility,  and  take  the 
entire  management  and  chances  of  the 
result  upon  himself.  The  manner  in 
which  that  sagacious  and  accomplished 
gentleman  carried  on  an  enterprise  of  such 
vast  magnitude, — nearly  one  hundred  con- 
certs, in  all  parts  of  the  land,  from  Boston 
to  Louisiana,  and  involving  more  than 
sevr7i  Jn/juh'ed  thousand  dollars  in  total 
receipts, — was  a  monument  alike  to  liis 
genius  and  to   his    superlative    executive 


GREAT  AND  MEjMORABLE  EVENTS. 


545 


.abilities  ; — ^a  statement-,  tlie  truth  of  wliicli 
will  be  found  ubundantly  conlirnied  iu  the 
liistory  of  tins  enterprise,  as  written  by- 
Mr.  Uarnuni  hiuiself,  and  from  which 
some  of  the  facts  and  incidents  given  below 
are  collated. 

On  Wednesday  morning,  August  twenty- 
first,  1850,  Jenny  Lind  and  her  two  pro- 
fessional companions,  Messrs.  Benedict 
and  Belletti,  sailed  from  Liverpool  in  the 
steamer  Atlantic.  It  was  expected  that 
the  steamer  wpnld  arrive  on  Sunday,  Sep- 
tember first,  but,  determined  to  meet  the 
songstress  on  her  arrival,  whenever  it 
might  be,  Mr.  Barnum  went  to  Staten 
Island  on  Saturday  night,  to  be  in  readi- 
ness to  greet  the  fair  stranger.  A  few 
minutes  before  twelve  o'clock  on  Sunday 
morning,  the  Atlantic  hove  in  sight,  and, 
immediately  afterwards,  Mr.  Barnum  was 
on  board  the  ship,  and  had  taken  Jenny 
Lind  by  the  hand.  After  a  few  moments' 
conversation,  she  asked  him — 

"  When  and  where  have  you  heard  me 


sing  : 


'?  " 


"  I  never  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you 
before  in  my  life,"  replied  Mr.  Barnum. 

"How  is  it  possible  that  you  dared  risk 
so  much  money  on  a  person  whom  you 
never  heard  sing  ?  "  she  asked  in  surprise. 

"I  risked  it,"  answered  INIr.  Barnum, 
"  on  3'our  reputation,  which  in  musical 
matters  I  would  much  rather  trust  than 
my  own  judgment." 

Thousands  of  persons  covered  the  ship- 
ping and  piers,  and  other  thousands  con- 
gregated on  the  wharf,  to  see  her,  the 
wildest  enthusiasm  prevailing  as  the  noble 
steamer  approached  the  dock.  So  great 
was  the  rush  on  a  sloop  near  the  steamer's 
berth,  that  one  man,  in  his  zeal  to  obtain 
a  good  view,  accidentally  tumbled  over- 
board amid  the  shouts  of  those  near  him. 
Jenny  witnessed  this  incident,  and  was 
much  alarmed.  He  was,  however,  soon 
rescued.  A  superb  bower  of  green  trees, 
decorated  with  beautiful  flags,  was  ar- 
ranged upon  the  wharf,  together  with  two 
triumphal  arches  ;  upon  one  of  the  latter, 
■v\^as  inscribed,  "  Welcome,  Jenny  Lind  !  " 
and  the  other,  surmounted  by  the  Ameri- 
3.5 


can  eagle,  bore  the  inscription,  "  Welcome 
to  America  !  ^^  Jenny  Lind  was  escorted 
to  JNIr.  Barnum's  private  carriage  at  once, 
by  Captain  West.  The  rest  of  the  musi- 
cal party  entered  the  carriage,  and,  mount- 
ing the  box  at  the  driver's  side,  JNIr. 
Barnum  directed  him  to  the  Irving  Hcuse. 
As  a  few  of  the  citizens  had  probably  seen 
Mr.  Barnum  before,  his  presence  on  the 
outside  of  the  carriage  aided  those  who 
filled  the  windoAvs  and  sidewalks  along  the 
whole  route  in  coming  to  the  conclusion 
that  Jennij  Lind  laid  arrived  ;  and  a  ref- 
erence to  the  journals  of  that  day  wiil 
show,  that  seldom  before  had  there  been 
such  enthusiasm  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
or  indeed  in  America. 


Within  ten  minutes  after  their  arrival 
at  the  Irving  House,  not  less  than  ten 
thousand  persons  had  congregated  around 
the  entrance  in  Broadwaj^  At  twelve 
o'clock  that  night,  she  was  serenaded  by 
the  New  York  Musical  Fund  Society, 
numbering  on  that  occasion  two  hundred 
musicians.  They  were  escorted  to  the 
Irving  House  by  about  three  hundred 
firemen  in  their  red  shirts,  bearing  torches. 
At  least  twenty  thousand  persons  were 
present.  The  calls  for  Jenny  Lind  were 
so  vehement,  that  Mr.  Barnum  led  her 
through  a  window  to  the  balcony;  and 
now,  the  loud  cheers  from  the  throng  lasted 
several  minutes,  before  the  serenade  was 
permitted  again  to  proceed. 

For  weeks  afterwards,  the  excitement 
was  unabated.     Her  rooms  were  thronged 


546 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


by  visitors,  including  the  magnates  of  the 
land,  both  in  church  and  state,  and  the 
carriages  of  the  bemi  monde  were  to  be 
seen  i-n  front  of  her  hotel,  at  all  fashiona- 
ble hours.  Presents  of  all  sorts  were 
showered  upon  her.  Milliners,  mantua- 
niakers,  and  shopkeepers,  vied  with  each 
other  in  calling  her  attention  to  their 
wares,  of  which  they  sent  her  many  valua- 
ble specimens,  delighted  if  in  return  they 
could  receive  her  autograph  in  acknowl- 
edgment. Songs,  quadrilles,  and  polkas, 
were  dedicated  to  her,  and  poets  wrote  in 
her  praise.  There  were  Jenny  Lind 
gloves,  Jenny  Lind  bonnets,  Jenny  Lind 
riding  hats,  Jenny  Lind  shawls,  mantillas, 
robes,  chairs,  sofas,  pianos — in  fact,  every- 
thing was  "  Jenny  Lind."  Her  move- 
ments were  constantly  watched,  and  the 
moment  her  carriage  appeared  at  the  door, 
it  was  surrounded  by  multitudes,  eager  to 
catch  a  glimj)se  of  the  fair  "  nightingale." 

Jenny  Lind's  first  concert  was  fixed  to 
come  off  at  Castle  Garden,  Wednesday 
evening,  September  eleventh,  and  most  of 
the  tickets  were  sold  at  auction  on  the 
previous  Saturday  and  Monday.  Genin, 
the  hatter,  purchased  the  first  ticket  at 
two  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars.  The 
arrangements  of  the  concert  room  were 
very  complete.  The  great  parterre  and 
gallery  of  Castle  Garden  were  divided  by 
imaginary  lines  into  four  compartments, 
each  of  which  was  designated  by  a  lami:>  of 
a  peculiar  color.  The  tickets  were  printed 
in  colors  corresponding  with  the  location 
which  the  holders  were  to  occupy,  and 
there  were  one  hundred  ushers,  with 
rosettes,  and  bearing  wands  tipped  with 
ribbons  of  the  same  hue  ;  and,  though  five 
thousand  persons  were  present,  their  en- 
trance was  marked  by  the  most  perfect 
order  and  quiet. 

The  reception  of  Jenny  Lind  on  this 
her  first  appearance,  in  point  of  enthusi- 
asm, was  probably  never  before  equaled  in 
tlie  world.  As  Mr.  Benedict  led  her 
towards  the  foot-lights,  the  entire  audience 
rose  to  their  feet  and  welcomed  her  with 
three  cheers,  accompanied  by  the  Avaving 
of  thousands   of  hats  and  handkerchiefs, 


and  the  casting  of  bouquets  before  her. 
This  was  by  far  the  largest  audience  that 
Jenny  had  ever  sung  in  the  presence 
of.  She  was  evidently  much  agitated,  but 
the  orchestra  commenced,  and  before  she 
had  sung  a  dozen  notes  of  "  Casta  Diva," 
she  began  to  recover  her  self-possession, 
and  long  before  the  scene  was  concluded, 
she  was  calm  as  if  sitting  in  her  own 
drawing-room.  Towards  the  last  portion 
of  the  cavatlna,  the  audience  were  so  com- 
pletely carried  away  by  their  feelings, 
that  the  remainder  of  the  air  was  drowned 
in  a  perfect  tempest  of  acclamation.  En- 
thusiasm had  been  wrought  to  its  highest 
pitch,  but  the  musical  powers  of  Jenny 
Lind  exceeded  all  the  brilliant  anticipa- 
tions which  had  been  formed,  and  her  tri- 
umph was  complete.  At  the  conclusion 
of  the  concert,  Jenny  Lind  was  loudly 
called  for,  and  was  obliged  to  appear  three 
times  before  the  audience  could  be  satis- 
fied. They  then  called  vociferously  for 
"  Barnum,"  who  reluctantly  responded  to 
their  demands  ;  and,  on  his  concluding  by 
saying  that  the  whole  p)roceeds  of  the  con- 
cert were  to  go  to  charitable  objects,  it 
seemed  as  though  the  audience  would  go 
frantic  with  applause. 

From  New  York,  Jenny  Lind  went  to 
Boston,  Providence,  Philadelphia,  Balti- 
more, Washington, — to  all  the  chief  cities 
in  the  Union,  east,  west,  north,  and  south  ; 
vast  audiences  everywhere  awaiting  her, 
— municipal,  musical,  and  other  deputa- 
tions, tendering  their  honors, — and,  during 
every  performance,  there  was  a  constant 
succession  of  hurrahs,  encores,  and  other 
demonstrations  of  intense  delight.  In 
Boston,  the  highest  price  paid  for  a  ticket 
was  six  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars, 
by  Ossian  E.  Dodge  ;  in  Providence,  six 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  by  Col.  William 
C.  Ross;  in  Philadelphia,  six  hundred  and 
twenty-five  dollars,  by  M.  A.  Root ;  in 
New  Orleans,  two  hundred  and  forty  dol- 
lars, by  Mr.  D'Arcy  ;  in  St.  Louis,  one 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  by  the  keeper 
of  a  refreshment  saloon;  in  Baltimore, 
one  hundred  dollars,  by  a  daguerreotypist. 

It  was  in  one  of  the  beautiful  environs 


GREAT  AND  I^IEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


54' 


I  enny 
-door 

walk  in  America.  Her  love  for  the 
charms  of  nature  was  always  intense,  as 
the  following  incident  which  occurred  on 
another  occasion,  as  related  by  a  stage- 
driver,  will  show.  A  bird  of  brilliant 
I)luniage  perched  itself  on  a  tree  near,  as 
they  drove  slowly  along,  and  trilled  out 
such  a  complication  of  sweet  notes  as  per- 
fectly astonished  her.  The  coach  stopped, 
and,  reaching  out,  Jenny  gave  one  of  her 
finest  roulades.  The  beautiful  creature 
arched  his  head  on  one  side,  and  listened 
deferentially ;  th.en,  as  if  determined  to 
excel  his  famous  rival,  raised  his  graceful 
throat  and  sang  a  song  of  rippling  melody 
that  made  Jenny  rapturously  clap  her 
hands  in  ecstasy,  and  quickly,  as  though 
she  were  before  a  severely  critical  audience, 
delivered  some  Tyrolean  mountain  strains, 
that  set  the  echoes  flying;  whereupon 
little  birdie  took  it  up,  and  sang  and 
trilled  and  sang,  till  Jenny,  in  happy 
delight,  acknowledged  that  the  pretty 
woodland  warbler  decidedly  outcaroled  the 
"  Swedish  nightingale." 
Jenny  Lind's  generosity  was  unbounded. 


To  say  nothing  oi 
numerous  heavy  bene- 
factions to  societies  and  individuals, — 
amounting  to  some  fifty  thousand  dol- 
lars, during  her  brief  stay  in  America, — 
here  is  an  illustration  of  her  sweet  tender- 
ness. One  night,  while  giving  concerts  in 
Boston,  a  girl  approached  the  ticket-office, 
and  laying  down  three  dollars  for  a  ticket, 
remarked,  "There  goes  half  a  month's 
earnings,  but  I  am  determined  to  hear 
Jenny  Lind  sing."  Her  secretary  heard 
the    remark,  and  in  a  few  minutes    after- 


wards,   coming    into    Jenny's    room,    he 


laughingly  related  to  her  the  circumstance. 
"  Would  you  know  the  girl  again  ?  "  asked 
Jenny,  with  an  earnest  look.  Upon  re- 
ceiving an  affirmative  reply,  she  placed  a 
twenty-dollar  gold  coin  in  his  hand,  and 
said,  "Poor  girl!  give  her  that,  \cith  viy 
best  ro7npli.ments." 

While  in  the  same  city,  a  poor  Swedish 
girl,  a  domestic  in  a  family  at  Roxbury, 
called  on  Jenn3%  Jenny  detained  her  vis- 
itor several  hours,  talking  about  "home" 
and  other  matters,  and  in  the  evening 
took  her  in  her  carriage  to  the  concert, 
gave  her  a  seat,  and  sent  her  back  to  Rox- 


548 


OUE  FIKST  CENT  UK  Y.— 1776-1876. 


bury  in  a  carriage  at  the  close  of  the  per- 
formance. Doubtless  the  poor  girl  carried 
with  her  substantial  evidences  of  her 
countrywoman's  bounty. 

On  the  morning  after  her  arrival  at 
Washington,  President  Fillmore  called, 
and  left  his  card,  Jenny  being  out.  She 
returned  his  call  the  next  da}',  and 
subsequently,  by  presidential  request, 
passed  an  evening  at  the  White  House, 
in  the  private  circle  of  the  president's 
family. 

Both  concerts  in  Washington  were 
attended  by  the  president  and  his  family, 
and  every  member  of  the  cabinet.  It  hap- 
pened that,  on  the  day  of  one  of  these 
concerts,  several  members  of  the  cabinet 
and  senate  were  dining  with  Mr.  Bodisco, 
the  Russian  minister,  whose  good  dinner 
and  choice  wines  had  kept  the  party  so 
late  that  the  concert  had  progressed  quite 
far  when  Webster,  Crittenden,  and  others, 
came  in.  Whether  from  the  htirry  in 
which  they  came,  or  from  the  heat  of  the 
room,  their  faces  were  a  little  flushed,  and 
they  all  looked  somewhat  flurried.  After 
the  applause  with  which  these  dignitaries 
were  received  had  subsided,  and  silence 
was  once  more  restored,  the  second  part  of 
the  concert  was  opened  by  Jenny  Lind, 
with  "  Hail  Columbia."  At  the  close  of 
the  first  verse,  Webster's  patriotism  boiled 
over.  He  could  stand  it  no  longer,  and 
rising  like  Olympian  Jove,  he  added  his 
deep,  sonorous,  bass  voice  to  the  chorus. 
Mrs.  Webster,  who  sat  immediately  be- 
hind him,  kept  tugging  at  his  coat-tail  to 
make  him  sit  down  or  stop  singing;  but  it 
was  of  no  earthly  use.  At  the  close  of 
each  verse,  Webster  joined  in ;  and  it  was 
hard  to  say  whether  Jenny  Lind,  Webster, 
or  the  audience  was  the  most  delighted. 
At  the  close  of  the  air,  Mr.  Webster  arose, 
hat  in  hand,  and  made  her  such  a  l)ow  as 
Chesterfield  would  have  deemed  a  fortune 
for  his  son,  and  which  eclipsed  D'Orsay's 
best.  Jenny  Lind,  sweetly  blushing  at 
the  distinguished  honor,  courtesied  to  the 
floor;  the  audience  applauded  to  the  very 
echo.  Webster,  determined  not  to  be  out- 
done in  politeness,   bowed  again  ;  Jenny 


Lind  re-curtesied,  the  house  re-applauded ; 
and  this  was  repeated  several  times. 

And  so,  in  the  case  of  Mr.  C]aj. 
Scarcely  had  the  overture  been  half  played 
through,  than  a  murmur  was  heard  from 
the  end  of  the  building.  It  was  hushed 
instantly,  and  the  overture  was  played  to 
its  close.  And  now  burst  out  a  long  and 
loud  shout  of  apjilause.  For  a  moment, 
Benedict,  the  conductor,  looked  around, 
somewhat  astonished.  He,  however,  saw 
immediately  that  this  ap^^lause  had  not 
been  called  forth  by  the  orchestra.  The 
tall,  slim,  thin  figure  of  an  aged  niaxi — 
with  a  grayish  blue  eye,  vivid  and  spark- 
ling, and  a  capacious,  broad  mouth — was 
slowly  advancing  tip  the  room.  It  was 
Henry  Clay.  As  he  moved  on,  the  shouts 
and  applause  redoubled.  He,  bowing  on 
every  side,  continued  his  path  feeblj'^,  and 
somewhat  cautiously.  At  length  he 
reached  his  seat,  and  the  ajiplause  ceased 
for  a  moment.  Then  a  voice  at  the  upper 
end  of  the  hall  cried  out,  "Three  cheers 
for  Harry  Clay!''  The  building  almost 
rocked  with  the  vehemence  of  the  re- 
sponse. 

While  in  Washington,  Jenny  Lind  was 
called  on  by  hosts  of  the  eminent  men  of 
the  land,  including  Mr.  Webster,  Mr. 
Cla}',  General  Cass,  and  Colonel  Benton. 
And,  indeed,  wherever  she  went,  from  one 
end  of  the  country  to  the  other,  the  same 
scene  presented  itself,  of  distinguished 
honors  to  this  Divinity  of  Song, — admiring 
and  enthusiastic  communities  turning  out 
to  welcome, — and  crowded  audiences  rap- 
turous under  the  overpowering  enchant- 
ment of  her  voice.  Jenny  Lind's  net 
avails  of  the  ninety-five  concerts  given  by 
her  under  Mr.  Barnum's  auspices,  in  the 
short  space  of  eight  months,  were  little 
short  of  $177,000,  or  nearly  double  the 
amount,  per  concert,  named  in  their  origi- 
nal contract.  Subsequently,  she  gave  a 
few  concerts  on  her  own  account.  In 
February,  1852,  she  was  married,  in 
Boston,  to  Mr.  Otto  Goldschmidt,  a  young 
German  composer  and  pianist,  who  had 
studied  music  with  her  in  that  countiy, 
and  who  played  several  times  in  her  Amer- 


GREAT  AlsD  MEMOEABLE  EVENTS. 


549 


ican  concerts.  Shortly  after  her  marriage, 
they  left  for  Europe.  Her  professional 
tour  in  America  was  far  more  brilliant  and 
successful  than  that  of  any  other  performer, 
male  or  female,  musical,  theatrical,  or 
operatic,  wlio  ever  appeared  before  an 
American  audience.  The  names  of  Kem- 
ble,  Malibran,  Celeste,  Ellsler,  Tree,  Kean, 
Garcia,  Ole  Bull,  Paganini,  Rossini,  Julien, 
Ristori,  Rachel,  Parepa,  Alboni,  Dean, 
Phillips,  Kellogg,  Sontag,  Wood,  Gotts- 
chalk,  etc.,  etc.,  all  pale  before  that  of  the 
fair  Swede. 

Describing  Jenny  Lind's  voice  scientific- 
ally, it  should  be  spoken  of  as  a  soprano, 
embracing  a  register  of  two  and  a  half 
octaves.  Clear  and  powerful,  susceptible 
of  the  greatest  variety  of  intonation,  it 
met  all  the  demands  of  the  composer  with 
the  greatest  facility  to  its  possessor.  No 
difficulties    appalled  her ;  a  perfect  musi- 


cian, she  suffered  herself  to  revel  in  all  the 
roulades  of  which  the  time  and  occasion 
admitted.  Her  upper  notes  filled  the 
vastest  area  with  an  effect  to  which  noth- 
ing but  the  striking  of  a  fine-toned  bell 
could  be  compared,  while  her  most  gentle 
and  subdued  passages  were  audible  at  the 
greatest  distances.  In  a  word,  there  was 
a  rare  combination  of  qualities  which 
raised  her  above  all  other  singers  ever 
heard.  Her  voice — sweet,  powerful,  mel- 
low, resonant,  faultless  in  tone,  and  full  of 
sympathetic  emotion;  her  execution  — 
ready  and  facile ;  her  manner — earnest  not 
only  in  the  expression  of  every  word,  but  in 
her  looks,  her  air,  her  abstraction  from  ev- 
ery surrounding  object ; — to  have  seen  and 
heard  this,  even  once,  was,  in  the  language 
of  one  who  had  been  thus  favored,  '•'  a  treat 
to  last  until  ive  go  to  heaven,  ^vliere,  and 
where  alone,  such  music  can  he  heardP 


LXIY. 

EEIGN    OF   THE   VIGILANCE    COMMITTEE    IN    CALI- 
FORNIA.—1851. 


Revolution  in  the  Administration  of  Justice. — Powerlessness  and  Indifference  of  the  Eegular  Authori- 
ties — Robbery,  Arson,  and  Murder,  Alarmingly  Prevalent. — The  Committee's  Secret  Ciiamber  of 
Judgment. — Sudden  Seizure  and  Trial  of  Noted  Criminals. — Solemn  Tolling  of  the  Signal  Bell. — 
Swift  and  Terrible  Executions. — Renovation  of  Society. — ^^Swarming  of  Desperate  Felons. — Kngland's 
Penal  Colonies  Emptied. — Organized  Society  of  "Hounds." — A  Band  of  Cut-throats — Society  at 
Their  Mercy. — Harvests  Reaped  by  Them  — Corrupt  Courts  and  Officers  — Tlie  Vigilance  Commit- 
tee Formed — Prompt,  Resolute,  Powerful. — The  Criminals  Taken  Unawares — Instant  Summons  to 
Death. — A  Gallows  at  Midnight. — Extraordinary  Horrors. — Confessions  by  the  Victims. — Astound- 
ing Revelations — Magistrates  Implicated. — Warnings  by  the  Committee — A  Double  Execution. — 
Thousands  of  Spectators. — Wild  Shouts  of  Approval. — The  Lawless  Classes  Terrified. — The  Results 
of  the  Movement. 


"  We  are  determined  thnt  no  thief,  burglar,  incendiary,  assassin,  ballot-box  Bluffer,  or  other  diiturbcr  of  the  neacp,  shall  escnpe  punish- 
ment either  by  the  quibbles  of  the  law,  the  insecurity  of  prisons,  the  carelessness  or  corruption  of  liie  police,  or  a  laxity  of  tho-e  who  pretend 
to  administer  justice."— Addeess  of  tub  Vigilance  Comuittbe. 


"IGILANCE  committees,  and  "lynch  law,"  are  terms  of  similar  and  famil- 
iar meaning,  in  the    American   vocabulary.     But   nowhere    else 
within  the  borders  of  the  great  rej^ublic  has  the  operation  of  this 
summary  method  of  dealing  with  offenders  who  would  otherwise 
go  "  unwhipped  of  justice,"  been  so  resolute,  so  frequent,  and  so 
effective,  as  in  California.     Nor,  perhaps,  has  it  ever  been  more 
excusable,  as  an  extreme  public  necessity.     Such  was  the 
unsettled  condition  of  society  in  that  remote  territory, 
during  the  earlier  years  of  its  mining  histor}',  so  multi- 
1)1  ied  and  daring  the  crimes  against  life  and  property, 
and  so  inefficient  as  well  as  glaringly  corrupt,  the  courts 
and  judges,  that,  for  a  time,  robbery,  murder,  arson,  and 
violence  were  completely  in  the  ascendant,  so  that  every 
man  not  actually  in  league  Nvith  the  perpetrators 
of  these  outrages,  was  put  on  the  defensive, — car- 
r^-ing  his  weapons  by  da}',  and  sleeping  on  them 
at  night.    Bold  and  defiant  in  their  successful 
career   of   crime,  numbers  of  these    outlaws 
formed   themselves   into  a  mutual    organiza- 
tion, with  regular  head-quarter.s,  and  assumed 
the  name  of   "  hoic7ids."     They  swarmed  the 
city  and  the  country,  and,  in  their  skilled  arts 
of  villainy,  as  thieves,  pickpockets,  gamblers, 
incendiaries,   and    assassins,    numbered   their 
victims  by  hundreds.      In    addition   to   this, 


DOUBLE  EXECUTIOX  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


551 


large  numbers  of  felons  found  their  way 
to  California,  from  the  convict  islands  of 
Van  Dieman's  Land  and  New  South 
Wales,  and  there,  under  the  existing  lax- 
ity of  law  and  audacity  of  crime,  reaped  a 
rich  harvest. 

Such,  then,  was  the  condition  of  affairs 
throughout  the  state,  when,  goaded  and 
outraged  beyond  endurance,  the  well-dis- 
posed citizens  determined  to  become  a  law 
unto  themselves,  and  to  administer  that 
law  in  the  interests  of  justice  and  self-pro- 
tection, with  promptness  and  decision.  Ex- 
amples were  not  long  wanting  for  the  exe- 
cution of  their  purpose ;  and,  in  pursuance 
of  the  same  end,  the  citizens  of  San  Fran- 
cisco soon  found  their  wi'ongs  being  re- 
dressed by  a  jiowerful  voluntary  organiza- 
tion of  the  most  influential  men  in  the  city, 
styled  the  Vigilance  Committee,  who,  in 
the  constitution  of  their  association,  de- 
clared that  they  thus  united  themselves 
together,  ''to  preserve  tlie  lives  and  prop- 
erty of  the  citizens  of  San  Francisco, — 
binding  themselves,  each  unto  the  other, 
to  do  and  perform  every  lawful  act  for  the 
maintenance  of  law  and  order,  and  to  sus- 
tain the  laws  when  faithfull}'^  and  j^roperly 
administered,  —  but  determined  that  no 
thief,  burglar,  incendiary,  or  assassin,  es- 
cape punishment,  either  by  the  quibbles  of 
the  laiv,  the  insecurity  of  prisons,  the  care- 
lessness or  corruption  of  the  police,  or  a 
laxity  on  the  part  of  those  pretending  to 
administer  justice  r 

The  first,  and  one  of  the  most  exciting 
of  the  cases  growing  out  of  this  extraor- 
dinary organization,  occurred  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, in  June,  1851,  when  a  Sidney  con- 
vict was  caught  in  the  act  of  carrying 
away  a  small  safe  which  he  had  stolen. 
The  man,  a  desperate  character,  was  seized 
by  some  members  of  the  vigilance  commit- 
tee, who  conducted  him  forthwith  to  their 
head-quarters,  where  he  was  tried  in  the 
presence  of  about  eighty  members  of  the 
association  sitting  with  closed  doors,  by 
them  convicted,  and  sentenced  to  be  hung 
in  Portsmouth  Square,  that  night.  Dur- 
ing the  progress  of  the  trial,  the  citizens 
had  assembled  in  large  numbers  about  the 


building  and  in  Portsmouth  Square,  the 
bell  on  the  engine-house  at  the  latter  local- 
ity having  rung  the  pre-arranged  signal, 
to  give  notice  of  the  proceedings  going  on. 

Though  very  much  excited,  the  populace 
were  not  disorderly.  Some  disapprobation 
was  manifested  at  the  secrecy  of  the  com- 
mittee's doings ;  but  when  the  result  was 
known,  there  was  a  very  general  acquies- 
cence, although  there  were  many  who 
deemed  the  punishment  too  severe  for  the 
offense,  and  others  thought  he  should  be 
executed  in  bi'oad  daylight.  As  soon  as 
the  sentence  was  passed,  the  bell  on  the 
California  Engine  House,  near  by,  com- 
menced to  toll  the  funeral  knell  of  the 
wretched  man.  Tliis  teas  at  one  o'v.loch, 
midnight.  Captain  Ray,  of  the  police 
force,  applied  at  the  door  of  the  commit- 
tee's room,  and  demanded  the  prisoner, 
but  was  refused  several  times,  and  al- 
though others  of  the  police  force  were  on 
the  ground,  they  saw  it  was  of  no  use  to 
attempt  a  rescue. 

Some  person  climbed  the  liberty  pole  to 
rig  a  block  for  the  execution,  but  a  loud 
shout  of  '■^  DonH  hang  hhn  on  the  liberty 
pole^''  arose  from  all  quarters.  Voices 
screamed  out,  "To  the  old  adobe,"  and  a 
rush  was  made  for  that  edifice,  upon  the 
corner  of  the  square,  formerly  occupied  as 
the  custom-house.  At  the  end  of  the  build- 
ing, a  block  was  rigged,  and  a  long  rope 
run  through  it.  In  the  meantime,  a  num- 
ber of  the  police  who  were  on  the  ground, 
made  several  attempts  to  obtain  possession 
of  the  prisoner,  whose  arms  were  tightly 
pinioned  and  who  was  closely  surrounded 
by  an  armed  and  resolute  body  of  the  com- 
mittee, but  they  were  sternly  prevented : 
had  they  persisted,  they  would  have  been 
riddled  with  balls.  Several  citizens  de- 
nounced the  execution,  and  sought  to  aid 
the  police. 

The  prisoner  by  this  time  was  nearly 
dead  with  fear  and  rough  handling,  when 
a  rush  was  made  toward  him,  a  noose 
thrown  over  his  head,  the  rope  manned  by 
twenty  ready  hands,  who  ran  backwards, 
dragging  the  wretched  man  along  the 
ground,  until,  raising  him  swiftly  to  the 


552 


OUR  FIEST  CENTUEY.— 1776-1876. 


beam,  the  heavy  form  of  the  convicted 
felon  dangled  from  the  block.  A  few  fear- 
ful struggles,  a  quiver  of  the  hempen  cord, 
a  few  nervous  twitches,  and  the  crowd 
gazed  upon  the  lifeless  corpse  of  him  upon 
whom  such  speedy  and  terrible  vengeance 
had  been  executed  by  an  outraged  people. 
At  six  o'clock,  the  city  marshal  cut  down 
the  body  and  consigned  it  to  the  dead- 
house. 

Thus  ended  the  first  execution  which 
ever  took  j^lace  in  San  Francisco,  where 
more  crime  had  been  committed  during 
the  year  past  than  in  any  other  city  of  the 
same  poj^ulation  in  the  Union,  without 
one  single  instance  of  adequate  punish- 
ment. Of  the  guilt  of  Jenkins  there  was 
no  doubt.  He  had  long  been  kn^own  to 
the  police  as  a  desperate  character  from 
the  English  penal  colonies,  where  he  had 
passed  many  years  as  a  transported  con- 


8EAL  OF  THE  CALIFOKMA   VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE. 

vict.  A  profound  impression  was  produced 
throughout  California,  as  also  in  every 
other  section  of  the  country,  by  these  ex- 
traordinary but  imperative  proceedings. 

Only  a  month  elapsed  from  this  time, 
when  another  and  similar  scene  of  horror 
was  enacted.  This  was  the  case  of  James 
Stuart,  one  of  a  regular  gang  of  thieves 
and  murderers,  and  who,  from  liis  own 
confession,  had  committed  almost  every 
known  crime  and  outrage.  He  was  delib- 
erately tried  on  various  charges  by  the 
vigilance  committee,  found  guilty,  and 
sentenced  to  be  hung,  all  of  which  he  ac- 
knowledged to  be  just.  At  nine  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  July  eleventh,  the  bell  of  the 


Monumental  Engine  Company's  house  on 
the  plaza,  attracted  everybody's  attention 
— known,  as  it  was,  to  be  a  signal  of  the 
vigilance  committee, — and  people  soon  be- 
gan to  throng  down  in  the  direction  of  the 
committee's  quarters.  The  bell  tolled  for 
about  half  an  hour,  guns  were  fired  from 
a  brig  in  the  harbor,  and  many  of  the  ves- 
sels in  the  harbor  had  their  flags  displayed. 
About  half-past  one  o'clock,  some  one  came 
out  of  the  "chamber  of  judgment,"  and 
read  a  portion  of  Stuart's  confession,  and  it 
was  stated  that  he  would  be  hung  in  an 
hour, — a  proposition  which  the  crowd  sanc- 
tioned almost  unanimously.  The  news 
spread,  and  the  crowd  increased  im- 
mensely. The  committee  now  came  down 
stairs,  and  formed  three  abreast ;  there 
were  hundreds  of  them,  princii^ally  com- 
posed of  the  oldest,  best  known,  and  most 
prominent  citizens.  Previous  to  this,  a 
clergyman  had  been  sent  for,  who  remained 
with  Stuart  two  hours. 

A  gallows  of  plain  uprights  and  a  cross- 
beam had  been  erected,  a  block  with  a  rope 
in  it,  and  the  noose  ready  made.  On  the 
way  down,  Stuart  appeared  perfectly  cool 
and  collected.  On  reaching  the  gallows, 
the  rope  was  placed  around  his  neck,  and, 
with  the  exception  of  a  slight  paleness, 
there  was  no  change  in  his  appearance,  no 
trembling,  no  agitation.  He  appeared  to 
feel  as  though  he  was  satisfied  with  his 
sentence  and  did  not  desire  to  live  longer. 

The  immense  crowd  remained  breathless, 
and  Stuart,  when  under  the  gallows,  said, 
"  /  die  reconciled  ;  wy  sentence  is  Jusf.^' 
The  rope  was  pulled,  and  in  a  moment  he 
was  swinging  in  the  air.  As  he  went  up, 
he  closed  his  e^^'es  and  clasped  his  hands 
together.  He  had  previously  requested 
that  his  face  might  not  be  covered.  He 
scarcely  gave  a  struggle  ;  and  although  the 
knot  was  on  the  back  of  his  neck,  aj^pcared 
to  suffer  but  little  pain.  A  slight  contrac- 
tion of  the  lower  limbs,  and  a  strained 
heaving  of  the  chest  for  a  moment,  were 
all  the  symj^toms  of  approaching  death. 
After  hanging  about  five  minutes,  his  hat 
blow  off,  and  exposed  to  view  the  ghastly 
features    of    the    murderer    and    robber. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


553 


WliLMi  he  had  Imng  about  twenty  minutes, 
he  was  cut  down  by  the  coroner.  There 
was  no  attempt  at  a  rescue,  and  every  tiling 
was  conducted  with  perfect  order,  but  the 
greatest  determination,  Stuart's  confes- 
sion was  one  unvarying  record  of  daring 
crimes,  showing,  in  a  startling  manner, 
the  dangers  of  California  life  and  prop- 
erty. A  large  number  of  persons,  some  of 
them  holding  office,  and  of  reputable  stand- 
ing, were  implicated  in  Stuart's  confession, 
—  it  appearing  that  the  association  of 
thieves,  burglars,  and  assassins,  to  which 
Stuart  belonged,  extended  throughout  the 
entire  state — that  judges  and  public  prose- 
cutors were  in  some  places  in  league  with 
the  association — that  subornation  of  per- 
jury was  one  of  the  commonest  expedients 
to  achieve  the  impunit}'  of  the  criminal, 
and  to  baffle  the  working  of  the  law — 
that  the  burning  (f  San  Francisco  was 
several  times  resolved  upon  in  revenge — 
and  that  life  was  not  regarded  at  a  straw's 
value  when  money  was  to  be  obtained  by 
murder. 

Determined  to  be  thorough  in  their  work 
of  purification,  the  committee  served  no- 
tices upon  every  vicious  or  suspected  per- 
son, whose  name  could  be  obtained,  with  a 
warning  to  depart  forthwith.  This,  with 
the  swift  and  terrible  executions  already 
Avitnessed,  caused  multitudes  to  flee  for 
their  lives.  Crime  rapidly  diminished, 
and  now,  for  the  first  time,  almost,  for 
years,  citizens  felt  secure  in  their  persons 
and  possessions. 

But  the  vigilance  of  the  committee  did 
not  for  a  moment  relax,  and,  in  a  few 
weeks  after  the  disposal  of  Stuart,  they 
had  in  their  hands  two  notorious  robbers 
and  incendiaries,  named  Whittaker  and 
McKenzie.  They  were  tried,  found  guilty, 
and  condemned  to  the  gallows.  They 
themselves  confessed  their  guilt,  and  a  day 
was  fixed  for  their  execution.  In  the 
meantime.  Governor  McDougall  issued  a 
writ  of  li.aheas  corpus,  which  was  handed 
to  Sheriff  Hayes,  commanding  him  to  take 
the  bodies  of  Whittaker  and  McKenzie, 
and  bring  them  into  court,  to  be  dealt  with 
according  to  law. 


Colonel  Hayes  and  some  of  his  deputies 
immediately  rei)aired  to  the  rooms  of  the 
committee,  having  declined  a  posse  of  police 
offered  to  accompany  them.     The   police, 
however,   followed,    with    some    stragglers 
who  wished  to  see  the  result.     The  sheriff 
and   Mr.   Caperton   walked  up   stairs   and 
entered  the  room,  unresisted.     Mr.  Caper- 
ton   advanced   to   the   room   in   which  the 
prisoners   were   confined,  announced  him- 
self to  be  the  deputy  sheriff,  and  called  on 
the   two   men,  Whittaker  and  McKenzie, 
to  accompany  him.  Colonel   Hayes  mean- 
time guarding  the  door.     When  the  party 
was  about  to  leave,  one  of  the  committee 
laid  his  hand  upon  the  sheriff's  shoulder 
and  attempted  to  push  him  from  the  door, 
but  Colonel  Hayes  told  him  he  was  there 
to  do  his  duty  and  was  obliged  to  do  it ; 
to  prevent  bloodshed,  they  were  allowed  to 
proceed.     Two  of  the  members  of  the  com- 
mittee,  suspecting  treacher^^,  had  at  the 
same  time  let  themselves  down  from  the 
windows,  and  at  once   gave   the  alarm  by 
ringing  the  bell. 

This  was  a  little  before  the  break  of  day, 
and  immediately  the  members  came  pour- 
in  cr  in  from  all  directions.  Amid  intense 
excitement,  the  meeting  organized,  and 
the  circumstances  were  detailed.  The 
person  who  had  charge  of  the  room  was 
bitterly  denounced.  Various  propositions 
were  made,  but  no  action  taken.  T]te  se- 
quel was  yet  to  come. 

It  was  about  half-past  two  o'clock  on 
Sunday  afternoon,  August  24th,  that  the 
bell  of  the  M(mumental  Engine  Company 
commenced  tolling  in  a  very  rapid  manner, 
and  the  news  soon  spread  like  wildfire,  that 
the  prisoners,  Whittaker  and  McKenzie, 
had  been  taken  out  of  the  county  jail  by 
some  members  of  the  vigilance  committee  ! 
The  manner  of  the  rescue  was  as  follows  : 
About  quarter-past  two  o'clock,  the  prison- 
ers were  taken  out  of  their  cells  to  attend 
the  usual  Sunday  services  conducted  by 
Rev.  Mr.  Williams.  Soon  after  they  Avere 
called  out,  the  attention  of  Captain  Lam- 
bert, keeper  of  the  jail,  was  called  to  the 
gate,  by  the  sentry  who  was  on  the  roof, 
and.  instantly  the  doors  were  burst  open,  a 


554 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


rush  made,  and  Captain  Lambert  thrown 
upon  tlie  ground  and  held.  The  prisoners 
Avere  at  the  same  moment  seized  and  car- 
ried out.  A  carriage  was  outside,  in  which 
the  criminals  were  placed,  and  a  pair  of 
fine,  dashing  gray  horses  sprang  at  the 
word  in  the  direction  of  Dupont  street. 
At  this  juncture,  the  bell  of  the  Monu- 
mental was  rung  in  quick,  sharp  strokes. 
The  excitement  and  uproar  were  terrific, 
the  multitude  surging  now  this  way,  now 
that,  as  the  carriage  dashed  fiercely  along. 
Pistols  were  held  at  the  heads  of  the  cap- 
tives while  they  rode  along,  and  almost 
before  the  crowd  realized  what  had  hap- 
pened, the  prisoners  were  safe  in  the  com- 
mittee's chamber  of  judgment.  The  pris- 
oners were  taken  by  about  forty  armed 
persons,  just  as  the  sermon  in  the  prison 
had  been  concluded,  and  resisted  to  the 
utmost  the  strong  arm  of  the  capturers, 
weapons  being  presented  with  deadly  aim 
on  both  sides. 

From  every  ward  in  the  city,  and  from 
the  most  remote  suburban  parts  within  the 
sound  of  the  Vigilance  bell,  people  came 
flocking,  breathless  and  excited,  to  the 
scene  of  execution.  The  streets  presented 
a  scene  of  furious,  mad  disorder.  Living 
masses  surged  down  the  by-ways,  through 
the  thoroughfares,  and  over  the  planked 
roads,  until  the  tramp  and  roar  of  the  mul- 
titude sounded  like  the  beating  of  the 
ocean  waves  upon  a  stormy  shore.  Mont- 
gomery street  poured  its  tide  of  human 
masses  into  California  street,  and  the  lat- 
ter emptied  its  living  contents,  like  a 
mighty  river,  upon  the  sjiot  where  the 
prisoners  had  been  taken  by  their  captors, 
namely,  the  vigilance  committee's  cham- 
bers— two  large  frame-houses,  ranged  side 
by  side,  of  two-story  construction,  their 
gable  ends  fronting  Battery  street,  in  the 
block  between  California  and  Pine  streets. 
The  lower  floors  of  these  buildings  were  oc- 
cupied as  stores — the  upper  apartments  as 
the  Vigilance  chambers,  each  having  heavy 
double  doors,  opening  upon  ]?attery  street, 
above  which  projected  timbers  and  pulleys, 
such  as  are  used  in  store-lofts  for  the  pur- 
pose of  hoisting  good^  from  the  ground. 


And  now  an  outcry  and  huzza  rent  the 
air,  and  was  borne  up  from  the  rooms  of 
the  committee  far  into  the  city,  until  ten 
thousand  throats  seemed  to  join  in  a  gen- 
eral cheer  and  shout  of  congratulation. 
The  committee  were  prepariny  to  execute 
justice  upon  the  criminals!  A  carriage 
dashed  round  the  corner  and  up  California 
street.  It  Avas  greeted  with  cheer  after 
cheer.  The  driver  stood  up  in  his  box, 
waved  his  hat,  and  huzzaed  in  reply. 
This  was  the  carriage  in  which  the  prison- 
ers had  been  carried  off  from  the  county 
jail,  and  which  was  now  returning  from 
the  committee  rooms.  It  was  drawn  by 
graj'-white  horses,  whose  sides  were  reek- 
ing with  foam  and  perspiration. 

In  the  southern  chamber,  a  rope  had 
been  'reeved'  through  the  block  attached 
to  the  beam  above  the  left  door.  When 
the  door  of  the  northern  chamber  opened, 
a  few  members  appeared  without  their 
coats,  and  addressed  a  few  words  to  the 
masses  below,  announcing  the  capture  of 
the  prisoners.  Cries  of  "  hang  them  up  !  " 
'■'■now  and  heref''  ensued,  and  the  tumult 
each  moment  grew  greater.  '■'■  We  hare 
them  —  nexjer  fear — it  is  all  right^''  re- 
sponded the  committee  ;  and  a  thundering 
shout  of  wild  congratulation  went  uj)  from 
the  surging  mass.  A  few  of  the  commit- 
tee then  smashed  out  the  glass  above  the 
door  of  the  southern  chamber,  and  one  of 
their  number  mounted  into  the  opening, 
holding  one  end  of  a  rope.  Dexterously 
clinging  to  the  clapboards  on  the  outside, 
he  managed  to  pass  the  rope  through  the 
block,  and  reti;rned  with  the  two  ends  to 
the  floor.  Both  doors  of  the  committee 
rooms  were  then  closed — the  fatal  ropes 
inside. 

Seventeen  minutes  had  now  been  spent 
in  rescuing  the  i)risoners  from  the  jail, 
conveying  them  to  the  rooms,  and  com- 
pleting the  j)reliminaries  of  their  execu- 
tion. The  great,  dense,  agitated  crowd 
that  covered  the  roofs,  and  clung  b\'  doz- 
ens to  the  sides  of  all  the  adjoining  houses, 
and  packed  the  streets,  darkened  the  walls, 
and  lilled  the  rigging  and  boats  along  the 
docks,  presented   an  awful   and  imposing 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


555 


EXECUTIONS  BY  THE  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO 


spectacle  of  excited,  impatient  and  resolute 
manhood.  Ten  thousand  faces  were  up- 
turned, when  the  doors  of  both  chambers 
were  simultaneously  jerked  open,  present- 
ing to  view  each  of  the  prisoners,  half  sur- 
rounded at  each  door  by  committee  men. 
A  terrific  shout  rent  the  air. 

The  multitude  tossed  to  and  fro — above 
all,  amid  all,  calmly  but  sternly  stood  the 
band  of  vigilants,  and  in  their  hands  the 
fainting,  drooping,  gasping  criminals,  their 
arms  pinioned  and  their  feet  secured. 
The  rope  Avas  about  their  necks,  their 
coats  having  been  removed,  and  they  stood 
aghast  and  trembling  in  the  brief  second 
of  lifetime  allowed  them  to  confront  the 
stormy  sea  of  human  beings  below.  An- 
other second  of  time,  and  they  were  tossed 
far  out  into  space,  and  drawn  like  light- 
ning to  the  beam's  end.  Both  were  exe- 
cuted at  one  and  the  same  instant,  tlie 
signal  being  given  throughout  the  cham- 
bers, and  the  members  rushing  back  with 
the  rope  until  the  culprits  each  had  been 
dragged  to  the  block,  and  hung  almost 
motionless  by  the  neck.  Then  a  few  con- 
vulsive throbs,  and  all  was  over.  McKen- 
zie  was  attired  in  gray  pants  and  coarse 
shirt,  and  was  hung  from  the  beam  in  front 


of  the  northern  room ;  while 
being  dragged  to  the  fatal  spot  from  the 
further  end  of  the  room,  he  manifested  the 
most  overwhelming  fright  and  terror, 
and  the  countenance  he  exhibited,  when 
brought  up  to  the  door,  was  one  never  to 
be  forgotten  by  those  who  looked  ujion  it — 
his  face  was  pallid,  his  eyes  upturned,  his 
hair  appeared  to  stand  out  from  the  scalp, 
and  every  fiber  of  his  flesh  quivered  and 
seemed  to  clutch  existence.  Whittaker 
was  more  indifferent  and  unmoved ;  but  he 
was  cleanly  dressed,  and  was  much  the  bet- 
ter looking  man  of  the  two. 

Such  terrible  and  repeated  examjjles  of 
swift  justice  at  the  hands  of  the  commit- 
tee, proved  effective,  to  a  great  degree,  in 
cleansing  San  Francisco  from  the  horde  of 
criminals  with  which  it  had  so  sorely  been 
infested,  and,  for  a  long  time  after,  the 
citizens  ceased  to  live  in  terror  of  burglars, 
robbers,  assassins,  and  incendiaries.  In 
Sacramento,  too,  where  similar  scenes  of 
retribution  had  been  enacted,  resulting  in 
the  summary  execution  of  those  noted  fel- 
ons. Roe,  Robinson,  Gibson,  and  Thomp- 
son, the  work  of  reformation  seemed  well- 
nigh  effectual.  Indeed,  the  occupation  of 
a  vigilance  committee  appeared  to  be  over 


556 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


— and  it  existed,  therefore,  for  j'ears,  as 
scarcely  more  than  a  nominal  organization. 

In  1856,  however,  crime  had  again  be- 
come so  rampant  and  stalked  abroad  with 
such  impunity,  that  the  vigilance  com- 
mittee once  more  took  justice  into  its  own 
hands,  with  an  iron  and  uncompromising 
sway,  though  this  time  not  without  a  fearful 
struccsle  with  the  constituted  authorities. 

The  great  exciting  provocation  to  the 
resumption  of  the  committee's  work,  at 
this  period,  was  the  deliberate  and  cold- 
blooded murder  of  James  King  of  William 
(an  appellation  which  he  carried  Avith  him 
from  Virginia),  editor  of  the  Evening  Bul- 
letin, by  James  P.  Casey,  editor  of  the 
Sunday  Times,  both  of  San  Francisco. 
Mr.  King  was  one  of  the  earliest  emigrants 
to  California,  and  was  a  man  universally 
resj^ected  and  admired  for  his  probity  and 
independence.  He  began  the  publication 
of  the  Bulletin  with  the  avowed  purpose 
of  denouncing  the  political  and  moral  cor- 
ruption which  had  gained  for  San  Fran- 
cisco such  an  unenviable  reputation.  The 
manliness  and  courage  with  which  he  pur- 
sued this  work  of  reform  gained  for  him 
the  friendship  of  right-minded  people  of 
every  class,  and,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the 
enmity  of  the  dishonest  and  criminal. 
Casey,  the  murderer,  was,  both  in  private 
character  and  habits  and  in  his  connection 
with  municipal  politics,  a  man  of  the  class 
to  whom  Mr.  King  was  most  likely  to  be 
obnoxious. 

On  tlie  foui'teeuth  of  May,  Mr.  King, 
in  a  rejoinder  to  an  attack  made  upon  him 
in  the  Times,  stated  that  the  editor  of  that 
journal,  Casey,  had  been  an  inmate  of 
Sing  Sing  prison,  and  had  secured  his 
election  to  an  offii-c;  in  San  Francisco  by 
fraud.  Casey  called  on  King  for  satisfac- 
tion, failing  to  obtain  which,  ho  at  once 
watched  for  him  on  the  street,  and,  at  five 
o'clock  on  the  evening  of  the  same  day, 
the  two  met  in  publio,.  With  hardly  a 
word  of  warning  —  giving  his  victim  no 
tune  for  defense, — Casey  drew  a  revolver, 
and  shot  Mr.  King  through  the  left  breast. 
Tlie  latter  lingered  for  a  few  days  and 
died  on  the  20th. 


The  murder  was  followed  by  the  arrest 
of  Casey,  and  he  was  conveyed  to  jail 
amidst  intense  jwpular  excitement,  his 
immediate  execution  being  demanded  by 
the  infuriated  multitude.  A  party  of  men, 
numbering  several  hundred,  got  together, 
armed  themselves,  put  several  small  can- 
non on  drays,  and  were  on  the  j)oiiit  of 
starting  to  attack  the  jail,  but  finally  de- 
sisted. It  soon  became  evident  that  noth- 
ing could  be  done  without  an  organization, 
now  deemed  imj^erative.  A  horde  of  mur- 
derers and  other  notoriously  bad  men  had 
collected  in  the  city,  and  had  long  gone 
unpunished  and  unterrified.  The  next 
morning,  therefore,  the  members  of  the 
old  vigilance  committee  met,  and  began  to 
admit  new  members.  For  three  days  the}' 
sat  in  almost  constant  session  secretly. 
About  twenty-five  hundred  members,  old 
and  new,  were  admitted,  these  binding 
themselves  to  obey  a  committee  of  fifty, 
who  alone  knew  what  was  to  be  done. 

On  the  following  Sunday  morning,  the 
committee  were  ordered  to  assemble,  and 
be  armed  with  a  musket  and  revolver  each. 
They  were  divided  off  into  companies,  and 
officers  appointed.  A  six-pounder  cannon 
was  provided,  and  at  ten  o'clock  they 
marched  to  the  jail,  which  they  sur- 
rounded. The  cannon  was  loaded,  and 
every  musket  was  loaded  with  ball  and  had 
a  fixed  bayonet.  At  one  o'clock,  Casey, 
at  his  own  request, — desirous,  as  he  said, 
to  prevent  bloodshed, — was  surrendered  to 
the  committee,  who  conducted  him  in  a 
carriage  to  their  chambers.  Subsequently 
they  took  Charles  Cora,  the  murderer  of 
General  Richardson,  United  States  mar- 
shal, unconvicted  on  account  of  the  jury 
disagreeing,  and  lodged  him  in  one  of  their 
rooms.  All  this  took  place  amidst  the 
most  perfect  silence  and  order ;  the  forces 
of  the  committee  marched  to  the  jail  with- 
out bugle  or  drum,  and  hardly  a  word  Avas 
spoken,  even  by  the  thousands  of  specta- 
tors who  witnessed  the  scene. 

The  funeral  of  Mr.  King  was  marked  by 
every  manifestation  of  popular  respect  for 
the  deceased.  Stores  were  closed,  houses 
were  hung  with  black,  men  wore  crape  on 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


557 


their  arms,  bells  -were  tolled,  aiul  Hags 
were  displayed  at  half-mast.  Meanwhile, 
Casey  and  Cora's  crimes  had  been  adjudged 
worthy  of  deatli,  and,  notwithstanding  the 
great  gathering  at  the  funeral,  the  rooms 
of  the  committee  were  surrounded  by  about 
twent}'  thousand  people,  who  had  got  an 
intimation  that  the  committee,  fearing  a 
rescue,  had  determined  to  hang  the  crimi- 
nals forthwith. 

A  most  formidable  guard  was  arranged 
by  the  committee,  numbering  about  three 
thousand  stand  of  muskets  and  two  field- 
pieces.  The  streets  in  the  immediate  vi- 
cinity of  the  rooms  were  cleared  by  the 
soldiers,  and  the  bristling  bayonets  that 
were  displayed  in  every  direction  made  the 
scene  one  of  great  solemnity. 

At  about  one  o'clock,  the  workmen  were 
seen  preparing  the  gallows  in  front  of  the 
committee  rooms, — now  located  in  a  two- 
story  granite  building, — a  platform  being 
extended  from  each  of  two  front  windows 
of  the  second  floor,  extending  about  three 
feet  beyond  the  line  of  the  building,  and 
provided  with  a  hinge  at  the  outer  line  of 
the  window  sill,  the  extreme  end  being 
held  up  by  means  of  a  cord  attached  to  a 
beam,  which  projected  from  the  roof  of  the 
building,  and  to  which  the  fatal  rope  was 
also  attached. 

Soon  the  prisoners  were  brought  to  the 
windows,  in  view  of  the  multitude,  dressed 
in  their  usual  garments,  and  mounted  the 
platform,  having  their  arms  pinioned. 
They  both  appeared  to  be  firm,  and  but 
little  affected  by  the  dreadful  fate  that 
awaited  them.  Before  placing  the  rope 
upon  their  necks,  an  opportunity  was  given 


them  to  speak  to  the  people  assembled. 
Casey  made  a  few  remarks,  but  Cora  did 
not  speak.  At  twenty  minutes  past  one 
o'clock,  everything  being  ready,  the  signal 
Avas  given,  the  cord  that  held  uj)  tlie  outer 
end  of  the  scaffolds  or  platforms  was  cut 
upon  the  roof  of  the  building,  and  the  doom- 
ed men  were  both  launched  into  eternity. 

The  work  of  death  being  ended,  the 
body  of  armed  men  who  had  acted  as 
guards,  were  all  drawn  up  in  lino,  and 
reviewed  by  the  superior  officers ;  after 
which,  they  countermarched  down  to  the 
rooms,  and,  entering  one  door,  stacked 
their  arms,  filed  out  at  another  door,  and 
mingled  with  the  citizens. 

Extending  its  operations  throughout  the 
state,  the  committee  determined  to  effect 
a  complete  renovation  of  societ}^, — to  break 
up  and  drive  from  the  state  the  bands  of 
felons  with  which  it  was  infested, — and  to 
awe  into  submission  the  political  bullies 
who  so  largely  controlled  the  elections. 
After  executing  some  four  criminals,  and 
transporting  or  banishing  many  more, 
thus  securing  comparative  quiet  and  order, 
the  committee  relinquished  its  administra- 
tion of  justice;  the  same  was  the  case  in 
Sacramento,  Stockton,  San  Jose,  and  other 
places,  where  crime,  unawed  and  unpun- 
ished by  courts,  had  been  thus  summarily 
and  sternly  dealt  with  by  an  outraged 
community.  The  committee  on  no  occa- 
sion denied  the  illegality  of  their  acts; 
they  defended  their  course  solely  on  tlie 
ground  that  there  was  no  security  for  life 
or  property  either  under  the  regulations  of 
society,  as  then  existing,  or  under  the  laws 
as  then  administered. 


LXY. 

VICTORIOUS  RACE  OF  THE  YACHT   "AMERICA,"  IN  THE 
GREAT  INTERNATIONAL  REGATTA.— 1851. 


She  Distances,  by  Nearly  Eight  Miles,  the  Whole  Fleet  of  Swift  and  Splendid  Competitors,  and  Wins 
"  the  Cup  of  all  Nations." — Grandest  and  Most  Exciting  Spectacle  of  the  Kind  Ever  Known, — Queen 
Victoria  Witnesses  tiie  Match. — Universal  Astonisliment  at  the  Result. — Admiration  Elicited  by  the 
"  America's"  Beautiful  Model  and  Ingenious  Rig — Scenes  at  tlie  "  World's  Exliibition  "  at  London  — 
Grand  Finale  Yet  to  Come  Off — Cliampionship  of  the  Sea. — England  Sensitive  on  tliis  Point. — Her 
Motto,  "  Rule  Britannia!" — George  Steers  Builds  the  America — Commodore  Stevens  Takes  Her  to 
England  — His  Challenge  to  All  Countries  — An  International  Prize  Race. — Eighteen  Yachts  Entered. 
— The  Scene  on  Wave  and  Shore. — All  Sails  Set  :  The  Signal. — Every  Eye  on  "  the  Yankee." — Her 
Leisurely  Movements —Allows  Herself  to  be  Distanced —Her  Quality  Soon  Shown —No  "Bellying" 
of  Canvas — Annzing  Increase  of  Speed. — All  Rivals  Passed,  One  by  One. — They  Return  in 
Despair. — Great  Odds  for  the  America. — Is  Visited  by  Queen  Victoria. 


On  every  side  was  heard  the  hail,  "Is  the  America  first?"— The  answer,  "  Yes  1 "—"  What's  second  ?"— The  reply,'*NoTniNOl"— Lou- 
Do.-v  Times. 


RATIFYING,  in  the  highest  degree,  to  the  pride  of  every  American,  was  the 
announcement  that,  in  the  great  and  exciting  international  yacht 
race, — wliicli  formed,  in  an  important  sense,  the  r/ravd 
finale  oi  tlie  "  Exhibition  of  the  Industrj-  of  All 
Nations,"  held  in  London,  in  1851, — the  victory  had 
been  won  by  the  clipper  yacht  America,  of  one 
Imndred  and  seventy  tons,  built  by  Mr.  George 
Steers,  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  and  commanded  by 
Commodore  John  C.  Stevens,  also  of  New  York. 
Tlie  prize  was  no  less  tlian  "TAe  Cvjy  of  all  Na- 
tions.''^ 

Making  but  an  indifferent  show  of  contributions 
to  the  various  departments  of  art,  science,  and 
manufactures,  at  tliat  renowned  exposition,  the 
conclusion  had  become  universal,  that  the  United 
States  would  gain  but  little  eclat  in  that  magnifi- 
cent congress  of  the  industries  of  civilization.  One 
trial  of  championship,  however,  was  yet  to  be  made 
and  determined, — the  supremac}',  in  respect  to 
architectural  model,  equipment,  nautical  skill,  and  power  of  speed,  upon  that  element, 
the  dominion  of  which  has  ever  been  the  coveted  achievement  of  every  maritime  coun- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


559 


try,  and  of  England  in  jiarticular, — the 
high  chiinis  put  forth  by  tho  hitter  being 
well  understood. 

How  happily  it  was  reserved  for  the 
United  States  to  take  this  honor  to  her- 
self, in  a  manner,  too,  undreamed  of  by 
any  compeer  or  rival,  will  appear  from  the 
following  history  of  the  great  fact,  as  given 
at  the  time  by  the  press  of  both  England 
and  America.  Indeed,  in  respect  to  the 
English  journals  and  the  English  public, 
it  can  truly  be  said,  that  fair  iday  and 
manly  achnoivledgmcnt  of  a  fair  heat 
ivere  never  more  honorably  exhibited.  And 
this  last-named  fact  is  all  the  more  credit- 
able, when  all  the  circumstances  of  the 
case  are  considered.  A  large  portion  of 
the  British  peerage  and  gentry  left  their 
residences  and  forsook  their  usual  diver- 
sions, to  Avitness  the  struggle  between  the 
yachtsmen  of  England,  hitherto  unmatched 
and  unchallenged,  and  the  Americans  who 
had  crossed  the  Atlantic  to  meet  them. 
All  the  feelings  of  that  vast  population 
swarming  in  British  ports  and  firmly 
believing  in  ''Rule  Britannia,"  as  an  arti- 
cle of  national  faith  ;  all  the  prejudices  of 
the  nobility  and  wealthy  aristocracy,  who 
regarded  the  beautiful  vessels  in  which 
they  cruised  about  the  channel  and  visited 
the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  every 
summer  as  the  perfection  of  naval  archi- 
tecture, were  roused  to  the  highest  degree ; 
and  even  the  Queen  of  England  did  not 
deem  the  occasion  unworthy  of  her  pres- 
ence. 

-  Until  the  very  day,  August  twenty- 
second,  1851,  of  this  celebrated  contest,  no 
Englishman  ever  dreamed  that  any  nation 
could  produce  a  yacht  witli  the  least  pre- 
tensions to  match  the  efforts  of  White, 
C-imper,  Ratsey,  and  otber  eminent  build- 
ers ;  and  in  the  pages  of  the  Yacht  List 
for  that  very  year  (1851),  there  was  an 
assertion  which  ever}'^  man  within  sight  of 
sea  water  from  the  Cl3'de  to  the  Solent 
would  swear  to,  namely,  that  "  yacht  build- 
ing was  an  art  in  which  England  was 
unriv^aled,  and  that  she  was  distinguished 
pre-eminently  and  alone  for  the  perfection 
of  science  in  handling  them."     Of  the  sev- 


enteen yacht  clubs  in  various  parts  of  the 
united  kingdom,  not  one  of  them  had  ever 
seen  a  foreigner  enter  the  lists  in  the 
annual  matches.  It  was  just  known  that 
there  was  an  imperial  yacht  club  in  St. 
Petersburg,  maintained,  it  was  affirmed, 
by  the  imperial  treasury,  to  encourage  a 
nautical  spirit  among  the  nobility,  and 
that  a  few  owners  of  yachts  at  Rotterdam 
had  enrolled  themselves  as  a  club  ;  but, 
till  the  America  came  over,  the  few  who 
were  aware  of  the  fact  that  there  was  a 
flourishing  club  in  New  York  did  not 
regard  it  as  of  the  slightest  consequence, 
or  as  at  all  likely  to  interfere  with  their 
monopoly  of  the  glory  of  the  manliest  of  all 
sports.  The  few  trial  runs  made  by  the 
America,  on  her  arrival  in  English  waters, 
proved  her  to  be  of  great  speed,  and  satis- 
fied the  English  critics  that  her  owners 
were  not  so  little  justified  as  at  first  they 
had  been  thought,  in  offering  to  back  an 
untried  vessel  against  any  other  yacht 
for  the  large  sum  of  fifty  thousand  dollars, 
or  for  a  cup  or  piece  of  plate.  An  inter- 
esting reminiscence  or  two,  in  this  connec- 
tion, related  by  Colonel  Hamilton,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  club,  may  here  be  given, 
namely : 

There  had  previously  been  some  talk 
among  the  members  of  the  New  York 
yacht  club,  of  a  race  with  the  yachts  of 
England,  and  Mr.  W.  H.  Brown,  the  well- 
known  and  skillful  ship-builder,  had  under- 
taken to  build  a  schooner  that  should  out- 
sail any  other  vessel  at  home  or  abroad, 
and  he  agreed  to  make  the  purchase  of  her 
contingent  upon  her  success.  His  offer 
was  accepted  by  the  yacht  club.  And 
now,  to  the  master  hand  and  brain  of  that 
accomplished  architect,  Geokge  Steers, 
was  confided  the  task  of  furnishing  the 
model  of  this  —  to  be  —  nautical  wonder. 
Tlie  America  was  built.  Failing,  however, 
in  repeated  trials,  to  beat  Commodore 
Stevens's  yacht  Maria,  the  club  were  not 
bound  to  purchase.  But  the  liberality  of 
the  original  offer  was  so  great,  in  assuming 
all  risk,  and  the  vessel  in  fact  proved  her- 
self so  fast,  that  several  gentlemen,  the 
commodore  at  the  head,  determined  to  buy 


560 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


her  and  send  her  out.  She  was  accord- 
ingly purchased,  and  sent  to  Havre,  there 
to  await  the  arrival  of  the  members  of  the 
club,  who  were  to  sail  her,  they  following 
in  a  steamer. 

Everything  being  made  ready  and  com- 
pleted at  Havre,  they  sailed  thence  to 
Cowes,  a  seaport  of  the  Isle  of  Wight — the 
scene  of  the  contemplated  regatta.  Their 
arrival  was  greeted  with  every  hospitality 
and  courtesy,  not  only  by  the  noblemen 
and  gentlemen  of  the  royal  yacht  club,  but 
by  the  officers  of  government.  Lord 
Palmerston  issued  an  order  that  the  Amer- 
ica should  be  admitted  in  all  the  English 
ports  on  the  footing  of  English  yachts; 
the  custom-houses  were  all  made  free  to 
her ;  and  the  admiral   of   the    station   at 


OliOliGi::  STEEKS. 


Portsmouth  offered  every  assistance  and 
civility.  The  Earl  of  Wilton,  and  the 
veteran  jMarquis  of  Anglesea,  the  latter 
eighty  years  of  age,  were  among  the  first 
visitors  on  board. 

When  the  time  for  the  regatta  came, 
which  was  to  take  place  on  the  most  dan- 
gerous course  possible  for  a  stranger — in 
the  waters  of  the  Isle  of  Wight,  with  their 
currents  and  eddies,  familiar  only  to  those 
accustomed  to  the  water — great  solicitude 
was  naturally  felt  by  the  Americans,  as  to 
the  pilot  to  be  employed.  Warnings  of 
all  sorts,  from  various  quarters,  reached 
them,  not  to  rely  too  much  on  any  pilot 
that  might  offer;  and  the  commodore  was 
naturally  perplexed.  I>ut  here  again  the 
English  admiral,  with  an  intuitive  percep- 
tion of  the  difficulty — of  which  no  men- 


tion, nevertheless,  had  ever  been  made  to 
him  —  told  Commodore  Stevens  that  he 
would  furnish  him  with  a  pilot  for  whom 
he  himself  would  be  answerable.  The 
offer  was  as  frankly  accepted  as  it  was 
honorably  made.  The  pilot  came  on 
board,  and  never,  for  a  moment,  was  there 
a  suspicion  on  any  mind  that  he  was  not 
thoroughly  honest  and  reliable.  Yet,  so 
strong  was  the  distrust  among  Americans 
outside,  that  even  after  the  pilot  was  in 
charge,  the  commodore  was  warned,  by 
letter,  not  to  trust  too  much  to  him,  and 
urged  to  take  another  pilot  to  overlook 
him.  But  the  commodore's  own  loyalty 
of  character  would  not  entertain  such  a 
proposition  —  he  gave  his  confidence  to 
the  pilot  the  admiral  sent  him,  and  it  was 
completely  justified. 

The  London  Times  said  that  never,  in 
the  history  of  man,  did  Cowes  present  such 
an  appearance  as  on  the  eventful  da}' 
appointed  for  this  race.  Upwards  of  one 
hundred  j'achts  lay  at  anchor  in  the  roads  ; 
the  beach  was  crowded  ;  and  the  esplanade 
in  front  of  the  club  swarmed  with  ladies 
and  gentlemen,  and  with  the  people  inland, 
who  came  over  in  shoals,  with  wives,  sons, 
and  daughters,  for  the  day.  Booths  were 
erected  all  along  the  quay,  and  the  road- 
stead was  alive  with  boats,  while  from 
sea  and  shore  arose  an  incessant  buzz  of 
voices  mingled  with  the  splashing  of  oars, 
the  flapping  of  sails,  and  the  hissing  of 
steam,  from  the  excursion  vessels  prei)ar- 
ing  to  accompany  the  race.  Flags  floated 
from  the  beautiful  villas  which  stud  the 
wooded  coast,  and  ensign  and  bargee,  rich 
with  the  colors  of  the  various  clubs  or  the 
devices  of  the  yachts,  flickered  gayly  out  in 
the  soft  morning  air.  The  windows  of  the 
houses  which  commanded  the  harbor  were 
filled  from  the  parlor  to  the  attic,  and  the 
"old  salts  "  on  the  beach  gazed  moodily  on 
the  low  black  hull  of  "  the  Yankee,"  and 
spoke  doubtfully  of  the  chances  of  her 
competitors.  Some  thought  "  the  Vo- 
lante  "  might  prove  a  teaser  if  the  wind 
was  light;  others  speculated  on  "the 
Alarm"  doing  mischief,  if  there  was  wind 
enough  to  bring  out  the  qualities  of  that 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


561 


large  cutter  in  beating  up  to  windward 
and  in  tacking ;  while  more  were  of  the 
opinion  that  the  America  would  carry  oft" 
the  cup,  "blow  high — blow  low."  It  was 
with  the  greatest  difficulty  the  little  town 
gave  space  enough  to  the  multitudes  that 
came  from  all  quarters  to  witness  an  event 
so  novel  and  interesting.  Among  the  vis- 
itors were  countless  strangers — Frenchmen 
en  route  for  Havre,  Germans  in  quiet  won- 
derment at  the  excitement  around  them, 
and  Americans  already  triumphing  in  the 
anticipated  success  of  their  countrymen. 

Eighteen  yachts  were  entered,  and  were 
moored  in  a  double  line  from  Cowes  castle, 
the  Beatrice  being  nearest  that  point,  the 
America  about  midway,  and  the  Aurora 
farthermost.  The  mist  which  hung  over 
the  fields  and  woods  from  sunrise  was  car- 
ried off  about  nine  o'clock  by  a  very  gentle 
breeze  from  the  westward,  which  veered 
round  a  little  to  the  south  soon  afterwards, 
and  the  morning  became  intensely  warm. 

At  five  minutes  before  ten  o'clock,  the 
preparatory  gun  was  fired  from  the  club- 
house batter}',  and  the  yachts  were  soon 
sheeted  from  deck  to  topmast  with  clouds 
of  canvas,  huge  gaff  topsails  and  balloon 
jibs  being  greatly  in  vogue,  and  the  Amer- 
ica evincing  her  disposition  to  take  advan- 
tage of  her  new  jib  by  hoisting  it  with  all 
alacrity.  The  whole  flotilla,  not  in  the 
race,  were  already  in  motion,  many  of 
them  stretching  down  towards  Osborne 
and  Ryde,  to  get  a  good  start  of  the  clip- 
pers. Of  the  yachts  that  entered,  fifteen 
started,  seven  of  these  being  schooners 
and  eight  cutters. 

Precisely  at  ten  o'clock,  the  signal  gun 
for  sailing  was  fired,  and  before  the  smoke 
had  well  cleared  away  the  whole  of  the 
beautiful  fleet  was  under  way,  moving 
steadily  to  the  east,  with  the  tide  and  a 
gentle  breeze.  The  start  was  effected 
splendidly,  the  yachts  breaking  away  like 
a  field  of  race-horses ;  the  only  laggard 
was  the  America,  which  did  not  move  for 
a  second  or  so  after  the  others.  Steamers, 
shore-boats,  and  yachts,  of  all  sizes,  buzzed 
along  on  each  side  of  the  course,  and 
spread  away  for  miles  over  the  rippling 
36 


sea — a  sight  such  as  the  Adriatic  never 
beheld  in  all  the  pride  of  Venice — such, 
indeed,  as  was  never  before  known  in  the 
annals  of  yachting.  Soon  after  they 
started,  a  steamer  went  off  from  the  roads 
with  the  members  of  the  sailing  committee 
— Sir  B.  Graham,  Bart.,  commodore,  of 
the  royal  yacht  squadron,  and  other  distin- 
guished gentlemen.  The  American  minis- 
ter, Hon.  Abbott  Lawrence,  and  his  son, 
Colonel  Lawrence,  attache  to  the  American 
legation,  arrived  too  late  for  the  sailing  of 
the  America,  but  were  accommodated  on 
board  the  steamer,  and  went  round  the 
island  in  her. 

The  Gipsey  Queen,  with  all  her  canvas 
set  and  in  the  strength  of  the  tide,  took 
the  lead  after  starting,  with  the  Beatrice 
next,  and  then,  with  little  difference  in 
order,  the  Volante,  Constance,  Arrow,  and 
a  flock  of  others.  The  America  went 
easily  for  some  time  under  mainsail,  (with 
a  small  gaff-topsail  of  a  triangular  shape, 
braced  up  to  the  truck  of  the  short  and 
slender  stick  which  served  as  her  main-top- 
mast,) foresail,  fore-sta^'sail  and  jib ; 
while  her  competitors  had  every  cloth  set 
that  the  club  regulations  allowed.  S/ie 
soon  began  to  creep  iipon  them,  passing 
some  of  the  cutters  to  windward.  In  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  she  had  left  them  all 
behind,  except  the  Constance,  Beatrice, 
and  Gipsey  Queen,  which  were  well  to- 
gether, and  went  along  smartly  with  the 
light  breeze.  Once  or  twice  the  wind 
freshened  a  little,  and  at  once  the  Amer- 
ica gathered  way,  and  passed  ahead  of  the 
Constance  and  Beatrice.  Another  puff 
came,  and  she  made  a  dart  to  pass  the 
Gipsej^  Queen,  but  the  wind  left  her  sails, 
and  the  little  Volante  came  skimming  past 
her  with  a  stupendous  jib,  swallowing  up 
all  the  wind  that  was  blowing.  The  glo- 
rious pageant,  passing  under  Osborne- 
house,  formed  a  pageant  surpassingly  fine, 
the  whole  expanse  of  sea,  from  shore  to 
shore,  being  filled  as  it  were  with  a  count- 
less fleet,  while  the  dark  hull  of  the  Ven- 
geance, eighty-four,  in  the  distance  at 
Spithead,  towered  in  fine  relief  above  the 
tiny  little  craft  that  danced  around  her ; 


562 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


tlie  green  hills  of  Hampshire,  the  white 
batteries  of  Portsmouth,  and  the  pictur- 
esque coast  of  Wight,  forming  a  fine 
frame-work  for  the  picture. 

As  the  Volante  passed  the  America, 
great  was  the  delight  of  the  patriotic,  but 
the  nautical  knowing  ones  shook  their 
heads,  and  said  the  triumph  would  be 
short-lived ;  the  breeze  was  freshening, 
and  tlien  the  sprightly  cutter  must  give 
wa}',  though  she  was  leading  the  whole 
squadron  at  the  time.  At  half-past  ten, 
the    Gipsey    Queen   caught  a  draught  of 


densely  crowded.  But  the  America  was 
forging  ahead,  and  lessening  the  number 
of  her  rivals  every  moment.  The  Sand- 
heads  were  rounded  by  the  Volante, 
Gipsey  Queen,  and  America,  without  any 
perceptible  change  in  point  of  time,  at 
eleven  o'clock,  the  last  being  apparently 
to  leeward.  Again,  the  wind  freshened, 
and  the  fast  yachts  came  rushing  up  before 
it,  the  run  fi'om  the  Sandheads  being  most 
exciting,  and  well  contested.  Here  one  of 
the  West  India  mail  steamers  was  ob- 
served paddling  her  best,  to  come  in  for 


YACHT  AMERICA  :   J.  C.  STEVENS,  COM. 


•vrind  and  ran  past  the  Volante, — the  Con- 
stance, America,  Arrow,  and  Alarm,  being 
nearly  in  a  line  ;  but  in  fifteen  minutes, 
the  breeze  freshened  again  for  a  short 
time  and  the  America  passed  the  Arrow, 
Constance,  and  Alarm,  but  could  not  shake 
off  the  Volante  nor  come  up  to  the  Gipsey 
Queen,  and  exclamations  were  heard  of 
"  Well,  Brother  Jonathan  is  not  going  to 
have  it  all  his  own  way,"  etc. 

Passing  Ryde,  the  excitement  on  shore 
■was   very  great,    and  the    vast   pier   was 


some  of  the  fun,  and  a  slight  roll  of  the 
set  inwards  began  to  impart  a  livelier 
motion  to  the  yachts,  and  to  render  excur- 
sionists, whether  male  or  female,  ghastly- 
looking  and  uncomfortable. 

The  yachts  Volante,  Freak,  Aurora, 
Gipsey  Queen,  America,  Beatrice,  Alarm, 
Arrow,  and  Bacchante,  were  timed  off 
Xorman's  Land  buoy  ;  the  other  six  were 
staggering  about  in  the  rear,  and  tlie 
Wyvern  soon  afterwards  hauled  her  wind, 
and  went  back  towards  Cowes. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


563 


At  this  point,  the  wind  blew  somewliat 
more  steadily,  and  the  America  began  to 
show  a  touch  of  her  quality.  Whenever 
the  breeze  took  the  line  of  her  hull,  all  the 
sails  set  as  flat  as  a  drumhead,  and,  with- 
out any  careening  or  staggering,  she 
"walked  along"  past  cutter  and  schooner, 
and,  when  off  Brading,  had  left  every 
vessel  in  the  squadron  behind  her,  with 
the  exception  of  the  Volante,  which  she 
overtook  at  half-past  eleven,  when  she 
very  quietly  hauled  down  her  jib,  —  as 
much  as  to  say  she  would  give  her  rival 
every  odds, — and  laid  herself  out  for  the 
race  round  the  back  of  the  island.  The 
weather  showed  signs  of  improvement,  as 
far  as  yachting  was  concerned  ;  a  few  sea- 
horses waved  their  crests  over  the  water, 
the  high  lands  on  shore  put  on  their  fleecy 
*' nightcaps"  of  cloud,  and  the  horizon 
looked  delightfully  threatening  ;  and  now 
"the  Yankee"  flew  like  the  wind,  leaping 
over,  not  against,  the  water,  and  increasing 
her  distance  from  the  Gipsey  Queen, 
Volante,  and  Alarm,  every  instant.  The 
way  her  sails  were  set  evinced  superiority 
in  the  cutting  which  the  English  makers 
would  barely  allow,  but,  certain  it  was, 
that  while  the  jibs  and  mainsails  of  her 
antagonists  were  "bellied  out,"  her  canvas 
was  as  flat  as  a  sheet  of  paper.  No  foam, 
but  rather  a  water-jet  rose  from  her  bows  ; 
and  the  greatest  point  of  resistance — for 
resistance  there  must  be  somewhere  — 
seemed  about  the  beam,  or  just  forward  of 
her  mainmast,  for  the  seas  flashed  off  from 
her  sides  at  that  point  every  time  she  met 
them.  While  the  cutters  were  thrashing 
through  the  water,  sending  the  spray  over 
their  bows,  and  the  schooners  were  wet  up 
to  the  foot  of  the  foremast,  the  America 
was  as  dry  as  a  bone.  She  had  twenty-one 
persons  on  her  deck,  consisting  of  the 
owners,  the  crew,  cook,  and  steward,  a 
Cowes  pilot,  and  some  seamen.  They 
nearly  all  sat  aft,  and,  when  the  vessel  did 
not  require  any  handling,  crouched  down 
on  the  deck  by  the  weather  bulwarks. 
The  Gipsey  Queen,  when  a  little  past 
Brading,  seemed  to  have  carried  away  her 
foresail  sheets,  but  even  had  it  not  been 


so,  she  had  lost  all  chance  of  success.  The 
America,  as  the  wind  increased,  and  it  was 
now  a  six-knot  breeze,  at  least,  hauled 
down  her  wee  gaff-topsail,  and  went  away 
under  mainsail,  foresail,  and  fore-staysail, 
so  that  it  required  the  utmost  the  steamer 
could  do  to  keep  alongside  of  her.  This 
tvus  her-  quickest  bit  of  sailing,  for  on 
rounding  the  east  point  of  the  island  it 
was  necessary  to  beat  to  the  westward,  in 
order  to  get  along  the  back  of  the  Wight. 

At  11:37,  the  Arrow,  Bacchante,  Con- 
stance, and  Gipsey  Queen,  stood  away  to 
the  north,  to  round  the  Nab,  imagining 
that  it  was  requisite  to  do  so,  as  the  usual 
course  was  to  go  outside  the  lightship, 
though  the  cards  did  not  specify  it  on  this 
occasion.  The  America  and  most  of  the 
other  yachts  kept  their  course  round  the 
Foreland  and  by  Bembridge.  She  ran 
past  the  white  and  black  buoys  at  a  tre- 
mendous rate,  and,  at  11 :  47,  tacked  to  the 
west,  and  stood  in  towards  the  Culver  cliffs, 
the  nearest  yacht  being  at  least  two  miles 
to  leeward  or  astern  of  her.  She  was  not 
very  quick  in  stays  on  this  occasion,  and 
it  would  seem  she  was  not  very  regular  in 
that  maneuver,  sometimes  taking  a  minute, 
sometimes  thirty  seconds,  to  perform  it. 
At  11 :  58,  she  stood  out  again  to  the  south- 
east, and,  having  taken  a  stretch  of  a  mile 
or  so,  went  about  and  ran  in  towards  San- 
down.  The  breeze  died  off  at  this  point, 
and  to  keep  the  cutters  and  light  craft  off, 
the  America  hoisted  her  gaff-topsail  and 
jib  once  more.  Under  Shanklin  Chine  the 
set  of  the  tide  ran  heavily  against  her,  but 
still  there  was  nothing  to  fear,  for  her 
rivals  were  miles  away,  some  almost  hull 
down. 

While  running  under  Dunnose,  at  12 :  58, 
her  jib-boom  broke  short  off;  it  was 
broken  by  mismanagement  on  the  part  of 
the  men  when  straining  on  it  with  the 
windlass,  and  did  not  snap  from  the  action 
of  the  sail.  This  accident  threw  her  up  in 
the  wind,  and  gave  the  advantage  of  about 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  her  opponents, 
while  she  was  gathering  in  the  wreck. 
But  it  was  of  little  use  to  them.  Looking 
away   to   the    east,  they  were   visible    at 


564 


OUR  FIRST  CE:J^TUE,Y.— 1776-1876. 


great  distances,  standing  in  shore,  or 
running  in  and  out,  most  helplessly  astern 
— the  Aurora,  Freak,  and  Volante,  in  spite 
of  light  winds  and  small  tonnage,  being 
two  or  three  miles  behind,  The  wind  fell 
off  very  much  for  more  than  an  hour,  and 
it  was  but  weary  work  stretching  along 
the  coast  against  a  baffling  tide,  every 
moment  making  the  loss  of  her  jib  of 
greater  consequence  to  the  America. 


"  CUP  OF  ALL  NATIONS,"  WON  BY  THE  AMERICA. 

At  about  3 :  20,  the  breeze  freshened, 
and  the  America,  still  some  miles  ahead, 
slipped  along  on  her  way,  making  tacks 
with  great  velocity,  and  standing  well  up 
to  windwfi-d.  Her  superiority  was  so 
decided  that  several  of  the  yachts  xvore, 
and  went  hack  again  to  Coives  in  despair  ; 
and,  for  some  time,  the  America  increased 
her  distance  every  second,  the  Aurora, 
Freak,  and  Volante,  keeping  in  a  little 
squadron    together  —  tack    for    tack — and 


running  along  close  under  the  cliffs.  This 
was  rather  unfortunate  in  one  respect,  for, 
in  going  about,  the  Freak  fouled  the 
Volante  and  carried  away  her  jib-boom; 
and  the  boatman's  pet  became  thereby 
utterly  disabled,  and  lost  the  small  glimpse 
of  fortune  which  the  light  winds  might 
have  given  her. 

Meanwhile,  minute  after  minute,  "  the 
Yankee  "  was  gaining  ground,  and  at  3 :  30 
was  flying  past  St.  Lawrence  towards  Old 
Castle,  while  the  Bacchante  and  Eclipse, 
which  had  been  working  along  honestly 
and  steadily',  were  about  two  and  a  half 
miles  to  leeward  behind  her.  Further 
away  still,  were  visible  five  or  six  yachts, 
some  hull  down,  some  dipped  further  still, 
digging  into  the  tideway  as  hard  as  they 
could,  and  lying  into  the  wind  as  well  as 
their  sails  might  stand  it. 

By  this  time,  the  America  had  got  the 
wind  on  her  quarter,  having  gone  round 
Rocken-end,  and  thus  having  a  tolerably 
fair  course  from  the  south  to  north-west, 
ujD  to  the  Needles,  the  wind  being  light 
and  the  water  somewhat  broken.  The 
persons  on  board  the  steamers  were  greatly 
astonished  at  seeing  ahead  of  the  America, 
after  she  had  rounded  Rocken-end,  a  fine 
cutter  with  a  jib  and  foresail  together — 
y"two  single  gentlemen  rolled  into  one," 
bowling  away  with  all  speed,  as  if  racing 
away  for  her  life,  and  it  was  sometime 
before  they  could  be  persuaded  she  was 
not  the  Aurora;  but  she  was  in  reality  the 
Wildfire,  forty-two  tons,  which  was  taking 
a  little  share  in  the  match  to  herself,  and 
had  passed  the  End  at  3  :  40.  The  Amer- 
ica, however,  bore  straight  down  for  the 
cutter,  which  was  thoroughly  well-sailed, 
and  passed  her  after  a  stern  chase  of  more 
than  an  hour,  though  the  Wildfire,  when 
first  sighted,  was  reckoned  to  be  some  two 
and  a  half  miles  ahead. 

At  5:  40,  the  Aurora,  the  nearest  yacht, 
was  fully  seven  and  one-half  miles  astern, 
the  Freak  being  about  a  mile  more  distant, 
and  the  rest  being  "nowhere."  The 
America  was  at  this  time  close  to  the 
Needles,  upon  which  she  was  running  with 
a  liglit  breeze  all  in  her  favor. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


565 


Two  of  the  excursion  steamers  ran  into 
Alum  Bay,  and  anchored  there  to  see  the 
race  round  the  Needles.  While  waiting 
there  in  intense  anxiety  for  the  first  vessel 
that  should  shoot  round  the  immense  pil- 
lars of  chalk  and  limestone  which  bear  the 
name,  the  passengers  were  delighted  to 
behold  the  Victoria  and  Albert,  with  the 
royal  standard  at  the  main,  and  the  Lord 
Admiral's  flag  at  the  fore,  steaming  round 
from  the  north-west,  followed  by  the 
Fairy,  and  the  little  dock-yard  tender. 
Her  majesty.  Prince  Albert,  and  the  royal 
family,  were  visible  by  the  aid  of  a  glass 
from  the  deck  of  the  steamers.  The  royal 
yacht  went  past  the  Needles,  accompanied 
by  the  Fairy,  at  5 :  35,  but  quickly  re- 
turned, and  at  5  :  45  lay  to,  off  Alum  Bay. 
The  Fairy  was  signaled  to  proceed  round 
the  Needles,  to  bring  tidings  of  the  race, 
and  at  once  started  on  her  errand. 

But  all  doubt  and  speculation,  if  any 
there  could  have  been,  was  soon  removed 
b}'^  the  appearance  of  the  America  hauling 
her  wind  round  the  cliff,  at  5:50.  The 
breeze  fell  dead  under  the  shore,  and  the 
America  lowered  out  her  foresail  and  fore- 
sta^'sail  so  as  to  run  before  it.  All  the 
steamers  weighed  and  accompanied  her^ 
giving  three  cheers  as  she  passed,  a  com- 
pliment which  owners  and  crews  acknowl- 
edged with  uncovered  heads  and  waving 
hats.  At  6  :  04  the  Wildfire  rounded  the 
Needles,  and  bore  away  after  the  schooner, 
which  by  this  time  had  got  almost  in  a 
line  with  the  Victoria  and  Albert ;  and, 
though  it  is  not  usual  to  recognize  the 
presence  of  her  majesty  on  such  occasions 
as  a  racing  match — no  more,  indeed,  than 
a  jockey  would  pull  up  his  horse  to  salute 
the  queen,  when  in  the  middle  of  his 
stride, — the  America  instantl}'^  lowered  her 
ensign,  blue  with  white  stars,  the  commo- 
dore took  off  his  hat,  and  all  his  crew,  fol- 
lowing his  order  and  example,  remained 
with  uncovered  heads  for  some  minutes, 
till  they  had  passed  the  royal  yacht.  The 
steamers,  as  she  passed  on,  renewed  their 
cheering. 

On  turning  towards  the  Needles,  at 
6:30,   not   a   sail    was    in   sight,   but   the 


breeze  was  so  ver}'  light  that  all  sailing 
might  be  said  to  have  finished;  and  it  was 
evident  that  the  America  had  won  the 
cup,  unless  some  light  cutter  ran  up  with 
a  breeze  in  the  dusk  and  slipped  past  her. 
The  steamers  returned  towards  Cowes,  and 
the  royal  yacht,  having  run  close  by  the 
America  under  half-steam  for  a  short  dis- 
tance, went  on  towards  Osborne.  Off 
Cowes  were  innumerable  3'achts,  and  on 
every  side  was  heard  the  hail,  "Is  the 
America  first ?^^  —  The  answer,  "Yes" 
"What's  second?"— The  reply,  " Noth- 
ing:' 

As  there  was  no  wind,  the  time  con- 
sumed in  getting  up  from  Hurst  Castle  to 
the  winning  flag  was  very  considerable, 
the  America's  arrival  first  not  having 
been  announced  by  gunfire  till  8  :  37.  The 
Aurora,'  Avhich  slipped  up  very  rapidly 
after  rounding  the  Needles,  in  consequence 
of  her  light  tonnage  and  a  breath  of  wind, 
was  signaled  at  8 :  45 ;  the  Bacchante  at 
9  :  30  ;  the  Eclipse  at  9  :  45  ;  the  Brilliant 
at  1 :  20  a.  m.,  August  23d.  The  rest  were 
not  timed.  Thus  the  America  made  good 
all  her  professions,  and  to  Commodore 
Stevens  was  presented,  by  the  royal  yacht 
squadron,  the  well-won  cup. 

On  the  evening  after  the  race  there  was 
a  splendid  display  of  fire-works  by  land 
and  water  along  the  club-house  esplanade, 
at  which  thousands  of  persons  were  pres- 
ent. A  re-union  also  took  place  at  the 
club-house,  and  the  occasion  was  taken  of 
the  Hon.  Abbott  Lawrence's  j^resence  to 
compliment  him  on  the  success  of  his 
countrymen  ;  to  which  his  excellency  made 
a  suitable  reply,  humorously  remarking 
that,  though  he  could  not  but  be  proud  of 
his  fellow-citizens,  he  still  felt  it  was  but 
the  children  giving  a  lesson  to  the  father 
— and  if  the  America  should  be  purchased 
by  English  friends,  the  Yankees  would 
nevertheless  try  to  build  something  better 
in  New  York,  so  as  to  beat  even  her ! 

The  queen  having  intimated  her  desire 
to  inspect  the  America,  the  latter  sailed 
from  Cowes  to  Osborne,  where  the  Victoria 
and  Albert  also  dropped  down.  As  the 
queen,  with  Prince  Albert,  and  suite,  neared 


566 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  America,  the  national  colors  of  that 
vessel  were  dipped,  out  of  respect  to  her 
majesty,  and  raised  again  when  she  had 
proceeded  on  board.  The  queen  made  a 
close  inspection  of  the  vessel,  attended  by 
Commodore  Stevens,  Colonel  Hamilton, 
and  the  officers  of  the  yacht,  remaining 
half  an  hour  on  board,  and  expressing 
great  admiration  of  the  famous  schooner. 
Indeed,  the  America's  beautiful  and  ingen- 
ious model,  and  her  remarkable  sailing 
qualities,  were  the  astonishment  of  every- 
body. 

The  triumph  of  the  America  was  due 
alike  to  her  superior  model  and  to  the 
unique  cut  and  fit  of  her  sails.  The  first 
thing  that  met  the  eye,  whether  the  vessel 
was  afloat  or  in  dock,  was  the  position  of 
the  greatest  transverse  section — in  ap- 
pearance situated  at  about  ten-seventeenths 
of  her  whole  length  from  forward ;  at  this 
section,  the  bottom  was  nearly  straight  for 
several  feet  out  from  the  keel,  while  the 
two  sides  included  an  angle  of  about  one 
hundred  degrees.  At  the  forepart,  her 
appearance  contrasted  strangely  with  the 
observances      of     modern      ship-building, 


namely,  the  avoidance  of  hollow  water- 
lines,  hers  being  very  concave,  and  her 
forefoot  exceedingly  short,  or,  in  other 
words,  the  lower  part  of  the  stem  and 
gripe  forming  a  long  curve,  and  therefore 
only  a  small  rudder  being  needed;  in  con- 
sequence of  this,  there  w^as,  in  steering, 
but  little  impediment  ojij^osed  to  her  pas- 
sage through  the  water  ;  the  great  draught 
of  her  water  aft,  eleven  feet  four  inches, 
Avith  only  six  feet  forward,  added  also  to 
her  facility  in  steering.  Any  defect  that 
might  be  expected  to  result  from  this  in 
sailing  on  a  wind,  was  quite  avoided  by 
her  great  depth  cif  keel, — two  feet  two 
inches  amidships.  The  copper  was  placed 
upon  her  bottom  with  gi'eat  care,  and 
every  possible  projection  avoided,  in  order 
to  diminish  the  friction  in  passing  through 
the  water.  But  by  far  the  most  distin- 
guishing feature  of  the  America  was  the 
set  of  her  sails.  The  bell3'ing  of  the  sails 
of  yachts  universally  —  not  only  when 
running  free,  but  also  when  sailing  on  a 
wind — was,  in  the  case  of  the  America, 
avoided  to  a  very  great  extent,  and  from 
this  arose  much  of  her  superiority. 


LXYI. 

FRIGHTFUL    CATASTROPHE    IN    A    NEW   YORK   FIVE- 
STORY    PUBLIC    SCHOOL-HOUSE    CONTAINING 

1,800    PUPILS.— 1851. 


Panic  Caused  by  a  Call  for  "  Water." — Furious  Rush  of  the  Little  Ones  Throughout  the  Vast  BuiUling, 
to  Escape  tlie  Supposed  Fire. — Tlie  Stair  Railing  Breaks,  and  they  are  Precipitated  to  the  Bottom,  in 
Helpless  Agony. — Nearly  Fifty  Children,  in  Their  Beauty  and  Innocence,  Suffocated  to  Death. — Hun- 
dreds of  Families  in  Mourning. — Slight  Source  of  all  this  Horror. — Sudden  Illness  of  a  Teacher. — 
Cries  of  "  Help  !"  for  Her. — Heard  in  the  Other  Rooms  — Fatal  Misappreliension. — Instant  and  Awful 
Fright. — Vain  Attempts  to  Escape — They  all  Pour  Forth  at  Once. — The  Street  Door  Locked! — 
Bewildered  Crowds  — Their  Headlong  Descent. — A  Pile  of  Bodies,  Fourteen  Feet  Square. — Their 
Sighs  and  Writhings. — Arrival  of  the  Firemen — Entrance  Effected  by  Them. — Thousands  Waiting 
Outside  — Indescribable  Excitement. — Anguish  of  Parents. — Rescuing  the  Sufferers. — Scenes  Among 
the  Little  Ones. — Sweet  and  Tender  Devotion  — Burial  of  the  Innocents. 


'when  Vife  is  old. 


And  many  a  scene  forgot,  the  heart  will  hold 
Its  memory  of  this." 


^^:?& 


m 


^^^^^^^■^m^^g^^'^pESSGISrS    and  examples  of  wholesale  casualty,  almost 

without  number,  and  of  appalling  character,  checker 
^  ■'SF^^  ^^^^  history  of  a  hundred  years,  showing  the  uncer- 
tainty of  even  the  most  forecasting  prudence  and  judg- 
ment, and  illustrating,  with  frightful  impressiveness,  the  precarious  tenure 
of  human  life.  But  seldom,  if  ever  before — be  it  gratefully  said — has  such 
a  calamity  as  the  one  now  to  be  narrated  befallen  any  community  ;  sel- 
dom, if  ever  before,  in  modern  times,  has  there  been  realized  to  the  actual 
experience  of  so  many  hearts  and  homes,  the  anguish  of  those  oft-repeated 
words,  "  tJie  slaughter  of  the  innocents,^^  of  which,  sages,  poets,  and 
divines  have  discoursed,  through  the  long  lapse  of  ages. 

It  was  about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  Thursday,  November  20, 
1851,  that  the  city  of  New  York  was  agitated  by  the  report  of  a  most 
dreadful  catastrophe  at  Ward  School  No.  26,  in  Greenwich  avenue,  near 
Jefferson  market.  At  first,  by  a  singular  reversion  of  the  usual  form  of  rumor,  not 
half  the  truth  was  told  ;  it  was  reported  down  town  that  the  stairs  of  the  school-house 
had  given  way  and  that  a  dozen  children  were  killed.  This  was  enough  to  startle  all 
the  residents  of  that  section  of  the  city  who  were  away  from  home,  and  all  sorts  of  vehi- 
cles were  at  once  summoned  to  convey  them  to  the  scene  of  the  disaster.  Tlie  building 
was  a  lofty,  four-story  brick  and  stone  structure,  having  a  basement,  on  a  level  with  the 


568 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


street,  paved  with  flag-stones,  and  which 
constituted  the  play-room  of  the  scholars. 
The  primary  department  occupied  the  sec- 
ond floor ;  the  third  floor  was  used  by  the 
more  advanced  scholars ;  and  the  front 
served  as  a  lecture-room  and  for  school 
examinations. 

The  slight  cause  from  which  flowed  this 
great  stream  of  horror,  agony,  and  death, 
appears  to  have  been  that  Miss  Harrison, 
principal  of  the  female  department,  had 
been  slightly  indisposed  for  a  few  days, 
but  still  considered  herself  equal  to  going 
on  with  her  arduous  duties.  But,  on  this 
afternoon,  while  hearing  the  recitations  of 
a  large  class,  in  a  room  in  the  rear  of  the 
third  story,  she  was  attacked  with  a  mo- 
mentary paralysis  of  the  tongue  ;  she  tried 
to  speak,  but  only  made  an  unintelligible 
noise.  In  her  effort  to  articulate,  her  face 
was  drawn  into  disagreeable  contortions, 
which  alarmed  her  pupils,  who,  supposing 
she  had  fainted,  rushed  to  the  door  open- 
ing into  the  large  room  adjacent,  and  which 
was  occupied  by  several  hundred  pupils, 
and  screamed  for  "water."  The  children 
in  that  room,  supposing  the  water  was 
wanted  to  put  out  a  fire,  sprang  towards 
the  outer  door  in  a  mass,  crying  "/'7?'«/" 
^^Fire!"  with  frightful  energy.  This 
cry  attracted  the  attention  of  Miss  Whit- 
ney, principal  of  the  primary  department, 
on  the  second  floor,  who  opened  the  door 
to  see  what  was  the  matter, — doing  which, 
so  contagious  was  the  terror,  she  was  in- 
stantly swept  by  the  hurrying  mass  of 
pupils  behind  her  into  the  hall,  eddied 
into  the  current  descending  from  the  story 
above,  and  carried,  against  all  her  powers 
of  resistance,  down  to  the  bottom  of  the 
steps  at  tlie  basement ;  and  she  had 
scarcely  been  there  two  seconds  before 
the  railing  by  the  side  of  the  stairs  began 
to  give  way.  After  Miss  Whitney  had 
been  tluis  forced  from  the  primary  school, 
the  children,  en  masse,  took  the  alarm,  and 
forced  their  way  from  the  various  apart- 
ments. 

And  now  a  scene  of  the  most  horrible 
description  presented  itself,  one  which  no 
imagination   can  adequately  conceive  nor 


language  describe.  The  children  came 
rushing  impetuously  down  the  stairs  in 
constantly  accumulating  throngs,  until  the 
stairway  was  choked  uj? ;  the  outer  door 
communicating  with  the  street  being 
locked,  according  to  custom,  during  school 
hours.  The  balusters  which  guard  the 
staircase  became  broken  by  the  pressure, 
first  near  the  bottom,  and  then  the  adja- 
cent rails,  being  proportionably  weakened, 
gave  way  from  step  to  step,  and  stair  to 
stair,  and  were  precipitated  with  the  poor 
distracted,  struggling,  and  half-gasping 
creatures  who  were  crushed  against  them 
headlong  into  the  pit  beneath,  already 
crowded  to  suffocation  with  those  who  had 
been  first  to  reach  the  bottom  of  the  stairs, 
in  their — alas  ! — vain  attempt  to  escape  to 
the  street.  Unappalled  by  the  spectacle 
before  them,  the  children  from  above — 
tliere  tvere  one  thousand  eight  hundred  and 
fifty-one  in  the  huildinrj,  precisely  the 
number  of  years  since  the  birth  of  Him 
who  first  proclaimed  to  "  these  little  ones," 
that  ''of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven" 
— still  came  pouring  down  from  above, 
crowding  those  before  them  off  the  stair- 
case into  the  area  below,  which  was  rapidly 
filling  with  the  bodies  of  the  wounded,  the 
suffocating,  the  dying,  and  the  dead. 
Many  of  them  struck  their  heads  against 
the  rough  corners  of  the  steps  as  they  fell, 
— the  stairway  leading  by  a  series  of  short 
stairs  and  landings  to  the  top  of  the  build- 
ing, making  a  riglit-angled  instead  of  a 
spiral  staircase,  and  forming  a  sort  of  well, 
about  ten  feet  square,  from  the  roof  to  the 
basement  floor. 

The  sight  of  all  these  horrors  seemed 
only  to  aggravate  the  terrors  and  despera- 
tion of  those  who  witnessed  them ;  and 
before  any  check  could  be  given  to  the 
furious  tide  of  panic-stricken  little  ones 
and  the  accompanying  flood  of  agony  and 
death,  the  well  or  area  was  in  two  minutes 
filled  with  human  bodies,  one  on  top  of  the 
other,  from  the  basement  to  the  third  step 
of  the  stairs  rising  from  the  second  floor. 
Tliere  lay  full  fourteen  square  feet  of  lit- 
tle bodies,  writhing,  struggling,  shrieking, 
pei'ishing   with   bruises    and   suffocation, 


GREAT  AND  JVIEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


569 


lohich  only  a  few  viinutes  before  were 
animated  by  childhood's  cheerful  and 
happy  hearts  ! 

But  there  was  more  than  one  gate  of 
death,  through  which  these  hapless  inno- 
cents were  doomed  to  pass.  Many,  find- 
ing their  escape  through  the  front  door 
cut  off,  tried  to  escape  by  the  back  way, 
where  also,  by  suffocation,  death  followed. 
Others  leaped  from  the  windows  and  were 
dangerously  wounded.  An  alarm  soon 
spread  through  the  streets  that  the  school- 
house  was  on  fire, — the  fire  bell  rang  out 
its  ominous  peals, — and  an  engine  com- 
pany was  promptly  on  the  spot,  with  a 
large  body  of  police.  The  front  door  was 
opened,  and  there  was  presented  to  their 


open  window,  urging  him  to  jump  to  the 
pavement,  and  calling  to  some  person 
to  '*  catch  brother  Tommy."  ^' JumjJ, 
Tommy,'''  said  he,  "jump,  and  Pll  juviji, 
too!"  A  gentleman,  looking  up,  had 
just  time  to  raise  his  hands  and  make  an 
effort  to  catch  the  boy  as  he  leaped  from 
the  window.  Fortunately,  he  succeeded 
in  catching  him,  and  then  his  brother  fol- 
lowed, whom  he  also  caught. 

Such  an  example,  once  set,  had  ready 
followers,  and  so  the  little  fellows,  to  the 
number  of  twenty,  were  thus  caught  as 
they  jumped.  They  probably  would,  un- 
frightened,  have  hesitated  to  jump  one- 
quarter  of  the  distance;  but,  almost  terri- 
fied to  death,  they  thought  not  of  the  dan- 


SCHOOL-HOUSE  OH  GKKE^WICH  AVENUK,  N.  V.,  THE  SCEKE  OF  THE  AWFUL  PANIC. 


eyes  the  avalanche  of  sighing,  screeching, 
terror-stricken  humanity,  and  the  yawn- 
ing sepulchre  of  the  multitude  now  stifled 
in  death.  As  it  was  impossible,  however, 
to  get  up  the  stairway  until  the  bodies 
were  removed,  as  many  as  could  assist  at 
this  sad  office  proceeded  to  convey  the 
wounded  and  the  dead  to  the  station-house 
near  by. 

Under  this  fatal  impression  that  a  fire 
had  occurred,  and  might  be  raging  in  some 
part  of  the  building,  others  of  the  firemen 
fixed  their  ladders  to  the  walls  and  strove 
to  effect  an  admission  to  the  windows. 
Even  here  they  were  met  by  the  inmates 
striving  to  make  a  desperate  escape  to  the 
street.  Their  attention  was  at  once  at- 
tracted to  a  small  boy,  who,  holding  a 
younger  brother  by  the  hand,  stood  in  an 


ger  before,  in  their  distracted  desire  to 
escape  the  awful  abyss  behind  them,  into 
which  so  many  of  their  classmates  had 
been  driven.  But  one  of  the  nineteen  or 
twenty  thus  liberated  uttered  a  single 
word  as  he  was  placed  in  safety.  One,  as 
he  was  caught,  exclaimed  "  good  bye,"  and 
started  for  home.  When,  at  last,  order 
was  restored,  and  the  children  up  stairs 
were  released,  there  was  upon  every  face 
that  passed  out  of  the  building  an  almost 
unearthly  look — a  wild,  bewildered  stare, 
as  though  they  had  been  wrested  from  the 
very  jaws  of  death. 

Many  of  the  children  who  were  taken 
out  alive  were  badly  injured,  and  numbers 
of  others  were  taken  out  quite  dead,  some 
from  the  effects  of  the  fall,  and  some  from 
suffocation.      About   forty   were   at   once 


670 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


taken  from  the  mass  quite  dead,  and  some 
others  died  immediately  after  being  re- 
leased. The  news  spread  like  wildfire 
throughout  the  whole  neighborhood — thou- 
sands of  persons  rushed  to  the  spot — and 
mothers  and  fathers,  frantic  with  grief, 
ran  wildly  from  place  to  place,  to  find  their 
children.  One  beautiful  but  frantic  young 
mother  was  seen  looking  up  to  heaven  in 
despair,  and  crying  "  My  ddld!  my  c.liild!  " 
as  she  stood  before  the  fair  form  and  most 
lovely  countenance  of  her  little  boy  of 
seven  sweet  summers,  now  cold  in  death. 

At  the  station-house,  the  sight  was  truly 
appalling.  Mothers  were  rushing  in  b}^ 
scores  and  hundreds,  wringing  their  hands, 
and  calling  their  children  by  name,  and 
when  one  was  recognized  among  the  dead, 
the  mother's  anguish  gave  vent,  in  many 
instances,  to  the  most  piercing  and  irre- 
pressible cries.  One  })Oor  woman  went 
into  the  station,  and,  after  running  about 
wildly  from  place  to  place,  found  two  of 
her  children  dead ;  her  shrieks  and  lamen- 
tations were  the  most  piteous  that  human 
ears  ever  listened  to.  Even  the  stern 
bearing  of  a  father  gave  way,  in  mournful 
demonstrations,  to  the  anguish  of  his 
heart,  on  beholding,  as  was  the  case  in 
several  instances,  his  only  child  a  corpse. 
The  officers,  too,  and  the  reporters  for  the 
press,  who  were  present,  were  far  from 
being  unconcerned  witnesses  of  the  melan- 
choly' scene ;  few  if  any  dry  eyes,  indeed, 
were  there  visible. 

During  the  height  of  the  excitement, 
thousands  upon  thousands  of  people  col- 
lected in  the  neighborhood  of  the  building, 
all  intensely  agitated,  and  wrought  up  to 
the  highest  pitch  of  apprehension.  The 
mayor,  the  chief  of  police,  the  recorder, 
judges,  police  captains,  and  all  the  promi- 
nent officers  and  citizens  in  that  part  of 
the  city,  were  on  hand  at  the  earliest  mo- 
ment, rendering  the  most  efficient  service. 
A  number  of  physicians  were  also  promptly 
in  attendance,  to  render  such  professional 
aid  as  could  be  made  available;  but,  un- 
haj)pily,  that  was  not  much.  Almost  all 
th(>  dead  were  suffocated;  for,  before  the 
balusters  gave  way,  the  lower  area  was  so 


densely  packed  that  those  who  were  pre- 
cipitated from  the  densely  crowded  stairs 
did  not  strike  the  pavement,  but  fell  upon 
the  heads  of  those  below,  and  in  their  turn 
were  rai)idly  covered  with  the  bodies  of 
others  which  succeeded  them. 

One  jjoor  girl,  who  Avas  on  the  stairs 
after  the  balusters  had  gone,  feeling  her- 
self pressed  towards  the  fatal  edge,  threw 
her  arms  around  a  younger  girl  next  to 
her,  who,  having  more  support,  stood  in 
no  immediate  danger.  The  little  one, 
feeling  the  grasj)  of  her  friend,  said, 
"Anne,  let  go,  please,  or  you  will  drag 
me  down  with  you."  And  Annie  did  let 
go ;  she  kept  her  footing  for  a  few  wee 
seconds,  and  then  reeled  and  fell  upon  the 
mass  of  sufferers  below.  She  teas  amonrj 
the  dead. 

Letitia,  the  3'oungest  daughter  of  Mr. 
Justice  Bleakley,  was  a  pupil  in  one  of  the 
small  classes,  and  when  the  children  rushed 
for  the  stairway  she  was  carried  with  the 
current,  and  they  all  went  down  together, 
as  if  upon  tlie  tossing  waves.  When  thus 
descending  below  stairs,  she  sank  upon 
one  of  the  steps,  beneath  several  of  her 
schoolmates,  and  while  lying  there  she 
Avas  almost  suffocated,  became  drowsy  and 
sleepy,  and  finally  said  to  a  little  girl 
beside  her,  "  Antoinette,  I  am  going  to 
sleep."  At  this  moment  a  piece  of  wood 
fell  upon  her  head,  and,  cutting  it  near  the 
temple,  the  blood  flowed  profusely  for  a 
while;  this  had  the  effect  of  reviving  her, 
and  of  restoring  her  fully  to  consciousness, 
so  that  in  a  few  minutes  the  little  creature 
was  extricated  from  her  perilous  situation. 

An  instance  of  fraternal  devotion,  beau- 
tifully affectionate,  was  that  of  Alfred 
Gage,  who,  after  reaching  the  ground  floor 
in  safety,  saw  his  brother  on  the  fatal 
staircase,  vainly  seeking  to  retain  his  foot- 
ing. Alfred  attempted  to  stem  the  living 
tide,  and  to  make  his  way  through  it  to 
assist  his  brother,  but  his  efforts  were 
fruitless, — and  so,  placing  himself  heroic- 
ally just  below  where  his  brother  stood 
poised,  he  told  him  to  spring  down.  Thus 
called  upon,  the  boy  made  the  frightful 
leap  into  the  arms  of  his  brother,  and  both 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


571 


fell  among  the   dying  and  wounded,  with- 
out being  in  the  least  injured. 

At  the  time  of  the  alarm,  Miss  Higgins, 
one  of  the  teachers,  had  eighty  children, 
from  seven  to  ten  years  of  age,  in  a  class- 
room   sixteen    feet    square.      The    panic 


h'\ 


Among  the  many  peculiar  escapes,  was 
that  of  a  girl  of  about  ten  years  of  age, 
who  jumped  from  one  of  the  windows  o': 
the  female  department,  and  was  partially- 
caught  by  a  man  who  saw  the  act.  Tho 
girl  escaped  with  only  a  sprained  ankle, 
while  the  man  was  quite  seriously  bruised 
by  the  concussion. 

Many  were  struck  with  admiration  at 
the  conduct  of  a  very  young  hid,  who  al- 
most fought  at  the  door  of  one  of  the  class- 
rooms  in  the  female  department,  to  pre- 
vent the  scholars  from  rushing  into  the 
hall  and  thence  into  the  abyss  of  destruc- 


mm^^ 


^•^ 


■  rnF'- 


Hr^ 


seized  them,  and  she  could  exercise 
no  restraint  upon  their  movements. 
They  escaped  from  the  room,  and 
three  were  killed ;  some  of  them 
jumped  out  of  a  window.     The  dear 


FRIGHTFUL  CATASTROPHE  IX  A 

tiny  ones  were  completely  beside  them- 
selves, and  quite  a  number  began  to  take 
off  their  clothes  and  shoes.  This  was  a 
singular  and  unaccountable  proceeding, 
but,  being  commenced  by  some  of  the 
scholars,  the  rest  followed  their  example, 
not  knowing  what  they  did. 


PCBLIC  SCHOOL-HOUSE,  NEW  YORK. 

tion.  He  made  the  most  manful  struggles, 
but  was  finally  forced  along  with  the 
current,  and  came  very  near  going  down 
the  dreadful  precipice  at  the  front  stairway. 
One  girl,  about  nine  years  old,  came 
within  a  hair's  breadth  of  a  violent  death. 
She  had  been  forced  over  the  fatal  brink 


572 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


by  the  crowd  that  pressed  and  swayed  from 
above,  but  it  chanced  that  her  dress  caught 
upon  a  projecting  fragment  of  the  bahis- 
ter,  and  held  her  for  at  least  a  minute  over 
the  yawning  gulf.  She  was  finally  res- 
cued by  the  well-judged  management  of 
some  boys,  who  conveyed  her  to  a  place  of 
safety. 

The  lives  of  two  children  were  saved, 
just  at  the  moment  of  the  breaking  of  the 
rails,  by  a  most  fortunate  circumstance. 
Two  children,  the  one  a  girl  nine  or  ten 
years  old,  and  the  other  a  boy  of  six  years, 
were  rushing  with  the  throng  to  get  down 
stairs,  but  just  as  the  boy  reached  the 
door  he  thought  of  his  hat,  and  determined 
not  to  go  without  it.  His  sister  wanted 
to  hurry  him  on,  but  all  that  could  be  said 
would  not  prevail  upon  him  to  go,  and  so 
they  both  returned  to  find  his  hat.  Just 
before  they  had  crossed  the  school-room 
the  railing  gave  way,  plunging  hundreds 
down  the  well  of  the  stairs,  but  the  little 
boy  and  his  sister  were  saved — for,  before 
the  hat  was  found,  persons  got  into  the 
room,  and  prevented  any  more  of  the 
children  from  passing  out. 

On  the  day  succeeding  this  lamentable 
occurrence,  a  jury  was  summoned  to  make 
an  official  investigation  of  all  the  circum- 
stances connected  with  it.  Among  other 
victims  examined  by  them  was  the  body 
of  Virginia  Mingay,  ten  years  old.  She 
was  neatly  laid  out  in  her  coffin,  had  no 
marks  of  violence  on  her  body,  but  seemed 
as  if  she  was  quietly  reposing  in  a  gen- 
tle slumber.  Suffocation  had  caused  her 
death.  The  appearance  of  the  fair,  sweet 
form,  of  Virginia,  touched  all  heart;*  with 
deepest  sadness. 

A  more  melancholy  sight  still,  met  the 
jury,  at  a  house  where  lay  the  two  lovely 
WooUey  children,  a  brother  and  sister,  who 
had  both  been  taken  up  dead,  and  were 
now  laid  out,  in  affection's  embrace,  on  a 
couch.  The  girl,  seven  years  and  one 
month  old,  was  a  beautiful  creature  even 
in  death,  and  had  been  one  of  the  most 
promising  pupils  of  her  age  in  school ;  the 
boy  was  almost  ten  years  old,  and  bore  a 
great  resemblance  to  his  sister.     The  poor 


mother  had  onlj^  a  short  time  previous  lost 
one  child,  and  this  blow  had  rendered  her 
not  only  childless  but  well-nigh  a  lunatic. 
Grief  and  tears  alone  could  depict  the  feel- 
ings of  the  human  heart,  under  such  cir- 
cumstances. This  certainly  was  the  testi- 
mony of  those  who  gazed  upon  the  two 
children  of  this  bereaved  and  heart-broken 
mother,  as  the  little  ones  lay  in  their  last 
sleep  on  earth,  for  the  tears  glistened  in 
the  eyes  of  many  who  had  long  been 
strangers  to  such  sensations. 

At  another  house,  the  jury  found  the 
body  of  Abby  Antoinette  Jacobus,  a  little 
less  than  seven  3'ears  of  age.  So  calm  and 
winsome  appeared  the  corpse  of  this  sweet 
young  creature,  that  the  foreman  called 
upon  the  jurors  in  the  background  to  come 
and  see  it,  for,  said  he,  pathetically,  "  I 
never  saw  a  more  angelic  countenance  in 
my  life."  This  was  true,  for  no  mark  of 
suffering  could  be  observed  on  the  face  of 
the  child, — a  smile,  rather,  rested  upon 
the  lips,  as  if  the  spirit,  in  passing  away 
without  a  pang,  had  lingered  to  impress  a 
kiss  upon  what  was  once  its  earthly  prison 
before  it  went  to  God. 

The  parents  of  some  of  the  dead  children 
were  very  jioor,  as  well  as  those  of  some 
of  the  injured  scholars,  and  in  some  in- 
stances they  were  not  even  prepared  with 
funds  to  bur^'  their  dead.  On  Saturday 
morning,  therefore,  one  of  the  school  trus- 
tees took  a  carriage  and  visited  most  of 
the  destitute  bereaved  parents.  He  found 
the  poor  creatures,  in  some  instances,  in 
the  deepest  of  poverty,  living  even  in  cel- 
lars and  in  back  garrets,  and  to  those  who 
really  needed  it,  relief  was  cheerfully 
given.  One  poor  widow  woman,  who  had 
an  injured  child,  was  in  the  act  of  borrow- 
ing two  cents  to  buy  some  bit^cuit  for  her 
offspring,  when  the  trustee  entered,  and, 
on  his  su])plying  her  with  a  few  dollars  to 
nourish  the  forlorn  and  injured  babe,  she 
shed  such  copious  tears  of  thankfulness  for 
the  gift,  as  fairljr  prevented  utterance. 

Everything  was  done  that  sympathy, 
and  kindness,  and  generosity,  could  devise. 
In  many  cases,  orders  were  given  for  cof- 
fins and  burials,  and  for  all  necessary  arti- 


GREAT  AND  IVIEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


573 


cles  to  array  the  little  hodies  appropriately 
and  have  them  conveyed  to  the  ground. 
The  teachers  of  all  the  different  depart- 
ments of  the  schools  were  employed  in 
visiting  the  sick,  and  rendering  assistance 
to  the  bereaved  parents,  and  their  good 
offices  tended  much  to  assuage  the  agony 
of  many  a  poor  mother's  heart.  In  their 
attentions  to  the  injured,  they  were  very 
assiduous,  and  nothing  was  wanting  on 
their  part  to  soothe  the  sick  bed  of  the 
suffering  children. 

Not  the  least  melancholy  object  con- 
nected with  this  tragical  event,  was  the 
interior  of  the  building  itself,  where  these 
fifty  promising  children  were  so  suddenly 
ushered  into  eternity,  and  where  a  still 
greater  number  were  injured  and  made 
invalids.  So  great  was  the  excitement  on 
the  succeeding  day,  that  hundreds  of  per- 
sons still  crowded  around  the  school-house 
and  the  police  station,  anxious  to  hear 
every  new  particular  concerning  the  catas- 
trophe. Police  officers  guarded  the  doors, 
to  prevent  the  rush  of  curious  visitors  from 
overrunning  the  school-rooms,  and,  in  the 
interior  of  the  building,  officers  were  sta- 
tioned to  keep  order  among  those  who 
gained  admittance.  The  first  thing  that 
struck  the  attention,  on  entering  the  build- 
ing, was  the  scathed  and  naked  stairway, 
and  the  fragments  of  the  shattered  balus- 
ter strewed  over  the  basement  floor.  These 
balusters  were  not  strong — far  less  so,  it 
was  easy  to  perceive,  than  they  should 
have  been  for  a  building  the  uses  of  which 
necessarily  subjected  them  to  a  heavy 
pressure  in  the  daily  discharge  of  one  to 
two  thousand  children.  Passing  on  now 
to  the  deserted  school-rooms,  everything 
was  found  remaining  precisely  as  it  had 
been  left  by  its  flying  occupants ; — the  open 
books,  the  slates  covered  with  exercises 
and  half-finished  sums,  piles  of  hats, 
masses  of  cloaks  and  other  garments  of  the 
children,  and  innumerable  memorials  of 
the  populous  school-room,  were  strewed 
about  upon  the  desks  and  over  the  floor,  all 
possessing  in  their  abandonment  a  most 
melanchol}'  interest.  In  due  time,  persons 
were  employed  by  the  trustees  to  gather 


up  the  garments  of  the  poor  dead  children 
and  convey  them  to  the  station-house, 
where  they  were  spread  out  and  arranged 
for  the  inspection  of  those  friends  who 
could  identify  them.  The  sight  presented 
by  the  woe-stricken  and  ghastly  faces, 
frantic  gestures,  and  bewailing  expres- 
sions, of  these  afflicted  parents,  was  dis- 
tressing in  the  extreme.  As  might  be 
expected,  some  of  the  bereaved  parents 
became  hopelessly  insane. 

But  all  this  might  have  been  even  worse, 
but  for  the  admirable  coolness  and  consid- 
eration of  one  individual.  The  sudden- 
ness of  the  alarm,  and  the  overwhelming 
rush  which  was  made  for  the  door,  seem 
to  have  taken  the  teachers  utterly  by  sur- 
prise,  and  to  have  communicated  to  them 
a  portion  of  the  delirious  terror  from  which 
the  disaster  sprang.  It  was,  however,  to 
the  self-possession  of  one  of  the  instruC'. 
tors,  Mr.  McNally,  principal  of  the  male 
department,  that  was  due  the  peremptory 
closing  of  the  door  of  his  apartment,  which 
prevented  its  inmates  from  escaping  and 
thus  contributing  their  distraction  and 
lives  to  the  horror  of  the  scene.  Had  the 
control  of  his  consciousness  and  self-com- 
mand failed  him  at  this  intensely  critical 
moment,  the  loss  of-  life  must  have  been 
terribly  aggravated. 

Most  of  the  two-score  or  more  victims 
of  this  dreadful  calamity  were  buried  on 
Saturday  and  Sunday.  Seventeen  were 
interred  in  Greenwood  cemetery  on  Sat- 
urday, and  their  funerals  were  attended 
by  the  surviving  members  of  the  classes  to 
which  they  belonged.  At  the  Baptist 
church  in  West  Sixteenth  street,  funeral 
ceremonies  were  conducted  at  the  same 
hour  over  the  remains  of  four  of  the  youth- 
ful dead.  Touching  allusions  were  made 
in  the  funeral  sermon  by  the  pastor,  to  the 
sweet  and  to  him  familiar  faces  which  lay 
before  him.  They  were  all,  he  said,  girls 
of  fine  intellectual  endowment,  and  were 
all  treading  the  same  path,  attending  the 
same  school,  and,  in  the  Sunday-school 
connected  with  that  church,  they  were  all 
in  one  class.  Thus,  in  the  beautiful  lan- 
guage of  inspiration,  "  they  were  lovely  in 


574 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


tlieir  lives,  and  in  their  death  they  were 
not  separated."  After  the  singing  of  a 
hymn  of  sorrow,  by  tlie  choir,  the  congre- 
gation passed  round  the  aisles,  in  order  to 
look  upon  the  faces  of  the  dear  dej^arted 
children  for  the  last  time — a  sad  sight, 
indeed,  those  gentle  forms  and  fairest  of 
faces,  now  motionless  in  death.  The  four 
coffins  were  alike,  and,  as  the  children 
were  nearly  of  the  same  age,  they  were 
about  the  same  size.  Though  not  sisters 
in  life,  they  looked  so  in  death. 

As  already  stated,  seventeen  of  the 
unfortunate  children  were  on  Saturday 
conveyed  to  Greenwood  cemetery,  and  in 
one  hearse  four  little  bodies  were  to  be  seen. 
The  throng  of  carriages  and  spectators,  as 
cortege  after  cortege  entered  that  silent 
garden  of  the  dead,  showed  the  feeling 
that  possessed  all  hearts  in  the  community. 
At  the  graves,  the  scenes  were  inexpres- 
sibly heart-rending,  for  the  tears  and 
moans  of  bereaved  mothers  who  mourned 
for  the  loss  of  their  dear  offspring,  mingled 
with  the  tears  of  sympathy  from  surround- 
ing friends,  melted  every  heart  that  beat 
in  the  grave-yard,  and  made  the  occasion 
one  never  to  be  forgotten  by  those  present. 

On  Sunday,  burial  services  were  per- 
formed for  most  of  the  remaining  victims. 
Among  these  was  that  of  little  Jane 
Gowry,  twelve  years  old,  being  the  only 
child  of  a  widow  lady,  who  lost  her  hus- 
band but  a  few  months  previously,  in  Cal- 
ifornia. The  body  was  accompanied  to 
the  church  by  the  children  of  the  class  to 
which  the  deceased  belonged,  and  the  poor 
mother,  worn  down  with  grief,  and  help- 
less from  excessive  sorrow,  was  carried  into 
a  carriage  to  pay  the  last  duty  to  her 
departed  child.  On  the  arrival  of  the  body 
at  the  church,  it  was  placed  opposite  the 
pulpit,  and  the  coffin  lid  being  removed, 
the  sweet  little  face  was  looked  upon  once 
more  by  the  congregation  which  filled 
every  part  of  the  vast  edifice.  During  the 
funeral  address,  the  whole  audience  was 
moved  to  sighs  and  tears,  and  this  mourn- 
ful fact  was  so  manifest,  that  the  distressed 


mother  fainted,  in  the  excess  of  her  grief 
and  her  affliction.  The  hearse  was  now 
brought,  and  the  remains  being  placed  in 
it,  a  procession  was  formed,  to  proceed  to 
the  grave.  A  large  omnibus,  supplied  by 
Mr.  Reuben  Kipp,  of  the  firm  of  Kipp  & 
Brown,  stage  proprietors,  and  drawn  by 
six  beautiful  cream-colored  horses,  led  the 
mournful  cavalcade,  and  in  it  were  forty- 
one  young  girls,  who  were  members  of  the 
same  Sabbath-school  with  the  deceased — 
that  of  the  Jane-street  Methodist  church. 
The  procession  gently  coursed  to  the  cem- 
etery, where  the  remains  were  deposited, 
amid  an  outburst  of  mourning  which  would 
have  melted  the  most  hardened  heart.  No 
less  than  seven  of  the  scholars  belonging 
to  this  Sabbath-school  were  killed  by  the 
accident. 

Similar  proceedings  took  place  in  con- 
nection with  the  funerals  of  others,  though 
but  one  more  need  here  be  particularized, 
to  show  the  sorrow  upon  sorrow  which 
attended  this  frightful  catastrophe.  Early 
on  Sunday  afternoon,  the  body  of  little 
Cornelia  Cadmus,  a  pretty  girl  of  seven 
summers,  was  conveyed  from  the  residence 
of  her  distracted  parents  to  Trinity  ceme- 
tery. A  large  procession  was  formed,  and 
the  cortege  moved  at  a  slow  rate,  through 
the  different  streets.  The  bereaved  par- 
ents were  grieving  at  their  loss,  and 
lamenting  their  unfortunate  condition, 
little  thinking  that  another  sad  accident 
awaited  their  remaining  child,  at  the  very 
moment  that  the  cold  grave  was  about  to 
close  upon  their  little  daughter  forever ; 
but  so  it  was,  and  the  doom  of  another 
infant,  dearer  than  ever  by  the  loss  of  his 
sister,  was  very  near.  The  little  brother 
of  the  deceased,  while  looking  from  a  car- 
riage window,  fell  through,  and  the  wheel 
of  the  next  vehicle  passed  over  its  head. 
The  deeply  distressed  mother  clasped  the 
little  sufferer  in  hor  arms  and  bathed  it 
with  new  tears,  amid  the  sobs  of  sympa- 
tliizing  beholders.  Medical  aid  was  ob- 
tained, and  the  cranium  of  the  little  child 
was  pronounced  perilously  injured. 


LXVII. 

APPEARANCE    OF   THE    MARINE    MONSTER   KNOWN   AS 
THE  SEA-SERPENT,  ALONG  THE  ATLANTIC 

COAST.— 1851. 


Statements  of  Numerous  Eye  Witnesses,  as  to  its  Form,  Size,  Color,  and  Movements. — Estimated 
Lenurth,  One  Hundred  Feet — Its  Body  Cylindrical  in  Sliape,  and  of  the  Diameterof  aLargeCask. — 
EfTect  of  Siiot  Upon  the  Animal. — Astonishing  Rapidity  of  its  Course — Observers  Struck  with  Won- 
der and  Awe  at  Such  a  Sight. — The  Monarch  of  the  Deep. — Opinions  of  Scientific  Men. — Existence 
of  the  Animal  Proved. — Evidence  on  this  Point. — Reliability  of  the  Witnesses. — Their  Various 
Descriptions. — Concurrence  of  Testimony. — No  Similar  Sea  Animal  — Seen  in  Different  Localities. 
— Observed  from  Sea  and  Shore. — Frequents  New  England — Near  Views  Obtained  of  Him — Clear 
Weather,  Smootli  Seas — Drawings  Made  on  the  Spot. — His  Gigantic  Dimensions. — Linnsean  Soci- 
ety's Report  — Supposed  to  be  the  "  Leviathan." — His  Steady  and  Onward  Pace. — A  Mile  in  Three 
Minutes. — Attitude  of  the  Body. — Elevation  of  the  Head. — Dark  Brown  the  Chief  Color. 


"  Prone  on  the  flood  extended,  Ions  and  large, 

floatinij  many  a  rood;  in  bulk  as  huge 

As  whom  the  fables  name  ot  nioustrous  size." 


ZOOLOGICAL  writers  of  eminence,  especially  in  that  department  or  branch  of 
the  great  science  of  zoology  which  treats  of  fishes, — their  anatomical  structure,  form, 
classification,  and  habits, — are  not  yet  unanimous  in  their  opinion  as  to  the  actual 
existence  of  the  monster  so  long  known  by  the  name  of  the  Sea-Serpent.  But,  as  the 
facts  by  which  such  a  question  is  to  be  decided  must,  after  all,  depend  simply  upon  the 
accumulated  testimony  of  those  persons  who,  at  different  times  and  in  different  locali- 
ties, have  not  only  seen  but  minutely  described  the  remarkable  marine  inhabitant  thus 
made  so  familiar  and  interesting  to  the  public  mind,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  present  here 
the  substance  of  tnat  testimony,  so  far  as  it  shall  appear  conclusive,  and  which  stands 
unimpeached  on  the  score  of  credibility  and  consistency, — it  being  universally  admitted, 
by  those  who  have  made  the  subject  a  specialty  of  investigation,  that  the  monster  which 
made  its  appearance  on  our  American  coast,  in  1851,  exhibited  the  same  general  char- 
acteristics as  those  noted  by  observers  before  and  since. 

By  most  of  those  who  have  seen  this  wonderful  inhabitant  of  the  great  deep,  and  been 
so  near  him  as  to  make  accurate  observations,  and,  from  these,  furnish  a  detailed  account 


576 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


of  his  peculiarities,  his  length  is  estimated 
at  about  one  hundred  feet, —  the  state- 
ments, however,  on  this  point,  vary  some- 
what, some  witnesses  putting  it  at  seventy- 
five  feet,  otliers  at  one  hundred,  and  some 
at  considerably  more  than  this,  a  difference 
owing  to  tlie  various  distances  or  posi- 
tions, at  or  in  which  the  animal  was  seen ; 
its  thickness  is  represented  as  about  that 
of  a  large  barrel,  or  of  a  cask  twice  the 
size  of  an  ordinary  barrel.  By  many,  who 
have  observed  the  peculiarities  of  the  ser- 
pent's form,  he  is  described  as  having 
l^rotuberances  on  the  back,  nearly  the 
whole  length  from  the  neck  to  the  tail, 
and  not  unlike  the  humps  on  the  camel's 
back ;  but  others  have  entertained  the 
opinion  that  these  apparent  bunches  were 
owing  to  the  manner  of  his  motion  in  the 
water. 

When  the  serpent  was  first  seen  in 
Penobscot  Bay,  on  his  modern  visit  to  that 
section,  the  bunches  or  humps  were  taken 
by  some  to  be  a  school  of  porpoises,  swim- 
ming by  in  a  line — a  supposition,  however, 
which  was  afterwards  abandoned,  when 
the  animal  was  seen  by  a  number  of  per- 
sons, at  different  times,  and  most  of  them 
too  near  the  striking  object,  not  to  be  able 
i'O  judge  correctly. 

But,  long  before  the  appearance  of  the 
sea-serpent  on  our  American  coasts,  that 
is,  in  the  waters  of  Massachusetts  and 
Maine,  he  had  been  repeatedly  seen  along 
the  shores  of  Norway,  and  minutely  de- 
scribed by  those  who  saw  him.  They 
represented  the  creature  to  be  of  great 
length,  and  to  have  large  bunches ;  the 
drawing  made  of  the  monster  very  strongly 
resembles  the  sketches  given  of  the  vis- 
itor on  our  American  coast. 

It  is  not  necessary,  however,  to  go  so 
far  distant  as  northern  Europe,  for  evi- 
dence that  the  sea-serpent  is  a  verity  and 
not  a  myth.  America,  and  especially  the 
New  England  portion  of  it,  has  been  the 
scene  of  its  most  frequent  visits,  and  from 
tliere  have  emanated  the  most  abundant 
and  circumstantial  chronicles  concerning 
this  mysterious  and  curiosity-exciting  o\>- 
ject.     On  the  appearance   of   the   serpent 


in  Penobscot  Bay,  it  was  seen,  among 
others,  by  a  respectable  and  highly  intelli- 
gent clergj^nan  of  the  neighborhood,  who,  -if 
by  request,  prepared  a  particular  descrip- 
tion of  the  animal's  appearance  and  move- 
ments. Several  persons  were  with  him  at 
the  time,  and  had  a  full  view  of  the  mon- 
ster for  some  minutes.  They  saw  him  at 
rest  on  the  water;  and  afterwards  saw 
him  dart  out  to  sea  with  great  velocity. 
Captain  George  Little,  in  command  of  a 
vessel  on  the  coast  of  Maine,  saw  the  ser- 
pent in  Broad  Bay  —  which  is  west  of 
Penobscot  Bay  —  and  supposed  it  to  be 
fifty  feet  or  more  in  length  ;  but  he  was 
not  so  near  as  to  enable  him  to  satisfacto- 
rily determine  this  point.  Prior  to  this. 
Captain  Kent,  master  of  a  coasting  sloop, 
saw  a  "  sea-snake,"  as  he  termed  it,  and 
which  appeared  to  him  to  be  at  least  fifty 
feet  long.  Captain  Crabtree,  who  resided 
on  an  island  in  the  same  bay — a  man  of 
excellent  character,  as  well  as  of  discrim- 
inating observation,  deposed  that  he  had 
heard  the  people  there  speak  of  having 
seen  a  large  sea-serpent  on  various  occa- 
sions, and  that  finally  he  saw  it  himself; 
he  saw  it  lying  at  rest,  for  some  time,  on 
the  surface  of  the  water,  and  within  five 
hundred  feet  of  the  land,  and  he  judged  it 
to  be  one  hundred  feet  long  and  three  feet 
in  diameter.  Subsequently,  the  animal 
appeared  again,  near  the  same  place.  On 
one  occasion,  two  of  the  animals  were  seen 
together,  in  that  vicinity'. 

Similar  in  appearance  to  the  above,  was 
the  serpent  seen  near  Plymouth,  Mass., 
outside  of  the  harbor,  but  near  the  land, 
and  witliin  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  those 
who  saw  }nm.  One  of  these  was  a  very 
intelligent  soa-captain,  who  viewed  him 
with  the  naked  eye,  and  also  through  a 
glass.  When  he  first  observed  the  animal, 
it  was  moving  directl}'-  from  him,  and 
seemed  to  be  about  thirty  or  forty  feet 
long ;  but  on  changing  its  course,  and 
exhibiting  fairly  its  whole  length,  lie 
judged  it  to  be  at  least  one  hundred  feet. 
The  serpent  again  approached  the  shore, 
and  remained  at  rest  for  about  five  min- 
utes.    The  sky  was  clear  and  the  weather 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


577 


calm,  affording  the  most  perfect  opportu- 
nity for  observation.  The  bunches  were 
as  large  as  a  barrel,  and  about  thirty  in 
number.  The  head  and  neck  appeared 
six  or  eight  feet  long.  It  was  of  a  deep 
brown  color. 

The  vicinity  of  Cape  Ann  seems  to  have 
been  a  favorite  resort  with  this  monster. 
At  one  time,  it  was  seen  by  the  master  of 
an  eastern  coaster,  lying  at  anchor  in  the 
harbor  of  Gloucester;  there  it  lay  at  rest, 
on  the  surface  of  the  water,  very  near  his 
vessel,  with  its  head  near  the  cable  in 
front  of  the  vessel,  and  its  tail  extending 
beyond  the  stern.  The  vessel  was  at  least 
sixty  feet,  according  to  her  tonnage  ;  and 
the  animal  not  less  than  seventy-five  or 
eight3^  Soon  after,  one  of  the  citizens  of 
Gloucester,  who  resided  at  the  point  of 
land  running  out  into  the  Atlantic,  saw 
the  serpent  and  gave  an  account  of  it. 
He  had  a  chance  to  view  the  animal  for 
more  than  an  hour,  during  which  it  was 
in  motion  backwards  and  forwards,  and 
nearer,  or  more  distant.  He  saw  what  he 
estimated  to  be  fifty  feet  of  the  animal's 
length,  but  did  not  speak  of  any  bunches. 
He  described  its  color  as  others  had  done. 

During  the  same  season,  and  the  same 
month,  August,  the  serpent  was  seen  in 
that  vicinity  by  a  number  of  other  persons, 
and  sometimes  within  fifty  feet.  Some 
noticed  the  bunches,  and  some  did  not. 
The  crew  of  a  vessel  belonging  to  New- 
buryport,  of  another  vessel  belonging  to 
Beverly,  and  of  a  vessel  from  New  York 
to  Salem,  all  saw  what  they  called  a  large 
sea-serpent.  So  also  did  the  fishermen  of 
several  Chebaco  boats,  then  employed  in 
the  cod  or  mackerel  catching  carried  on  in 
that  region. 

From  all  this  testimony,  there  seemed 
to  be  no  doubt,  reasonable  or  plausible,  of 
the  existence  of  a  sea-serpent,  of  some 
eighty  to  one  hundred  feet  in  length,  and 
of  the  size  of  a  large  barrel  or  cask. 
Indeed,  so  great  was  the  sensation  created 
by  the  movements  of  the  monster,  so 
repeatedly  seen  for  successive  years  by  so 
many  witnesses,  and  described  by  them 
with  such  detail  and  general  concurrence, 
37 


that  the  Linnsean  Society  of  Boston  ap- 
pointed a  committee  of  eminent  scientific 
gentlemen  to  collect  evidence  on  the  sub- 
ject, and  they  drew  up  a  report,  giving  in 
detail  the  depositions  of  numerous  wit- 
nesses who  saw  the  creature  on  shore  or  at 
sea,  some  of  them  from  a  distance  of  only 
ten  yards.  According  to  these  witnesses, 
the  monster  was  from  eighty  to  ninety  feet 
long,  his  head  usually  carried  about  two 
feet  above  water ;  of  a  dark  brown  color ; 
the  body  with  thirty  or  more  protuber- 
ances, compared  by  some  to  four-gallon 
kegs,  by  others  to  a  string  of  buoys,  and 
called  by  several  persons  bunches  on  the 
back  ;  motion  very  rapid,  faster  than  that 
of  a  whale,  swimming  a  mile  in  three  min- 
utes, and  sometimes  more,  leaving  a  wake 
behind  him  ;  chasing  mackerel,  herrings, 
and  other  fish,  which  were  seen  jumping 
out  of  the  water,  fifty  at  a  time,  as  he 
approached.  He  only  came  to  the  surface 
of  the  sea  in  calm  and  bright  weather.  A 
skillful  gunner  fired  at  him  from  a  boat, 
and,  having  taken  good  aim,  felt  sure  he 
must  have  hit  him  on  the  head;  the  crea- 
ture turned  toward  him,  then  dived  under 
the  boat,  and  immediately  re-appeared  on 
the  other  side,  at  a  distance  of  about  a 
hundred  yards. 

A  somewhat  curious  incident  occurred 
at  the  time  the  committee  were  concluding 
their  report,  and  which  naturally  created 
quite  a  lively  interest  and  not  a  little  dis- 
cussion. Just  where  the  animal  was  so 
often  seen  in  Gloucester  Bay  and  near 
Cape  Ann,  there  is  a  cove  making  up  into 
the  land,  beyond  the  general  course  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty  yards ;  near  this 
cove  a  snake  was  discovered  and  taken, 
while  aiming  towards  the  bay.  When 
moving  slowly  on  the  ground,  the  motion 
was  vertical ;  and  it  moved  by  contracting 
and  then  extending  itself.  One  of  the 
men  present  pursued  and  detained  it  with 
his  pitchfork.  The  efforts  it  made  were 
said  to  be  different  from  those  of  ordinary 
snakes.  It  had  the  power  of  expansion 
and  contraction  in  a  remarkable  degree. 
When  contracted,  it  was  scarcely  two  feet 
long,  and  there  appeared  bunches  on  the 


578 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


back ;  but  when  it  was  at  rest  and  lying 
horizontal!}',  it  was  three  feet,  and  the 
bunches  were  hardly  perceptible.  The 
people  who  killed  it,  believing  that  there 
were  some  striking  differences  between 
such  a  snake  and  those  commonly  seen, 
sent  it  to  Boston,  where  it  was  carefully 
and  scientifically  examined.  Its  length 
was  found  to  be  two  feet  eleven  inches  and 
a  half ;  and,  from  a  comparison  of  the 
young  of  large  land  snakes  and  serpents, 
with  those  of  common  age  and  growth,  it 
was  estimated  that  the  parent  of  this — if 
but  a  few  weeks  old — might  be  from  one 
hundred  to  one  hundred  and  eight  feet. 
The  place  where  the  3'oung  was  found ; 
the  peculiar  formation  with  bunches  made 
by  self-contraction  ;  and  the  spine  adapted 
to  this  singular  shape,  excepting  near  the 
neck  and  tail,  where  it  was  straight  as  in 
other  serjjents,  and  where  no  bunches  were 
discovered  in  the  large  monster  ; — all  these 
characteristics  seemed  to  render  it  proba- 
ble, in  the  minds  of  the  examiners,  that 
the  small  animal  was  the  offspring  of  the 
great  sea-monster.  But  some  doubted,  and 
attributed  the  protuberances  to  disease 
of  the  spine.  Twenty-four  distinct  bunches 
were  noticed  between  the  head  and  tail- 
end  of  the  creature.  The  color  was  a  deep 
brown  ;  the  belly  a  little  lighter.  The 
internal  structure  of  the  animal  captured, 
differed  from  that  of  other  serpents ;  the 
different  vertebrae  varied,  and  were  accom- 
modated by  their  shape  and  size  to  the 
configuration  of  the  back. 

Among  others  who  saw  this  mammoth 
inhabitant  of  the  deep, — supposed  to  be 
the  "leviathan,"  of  which  King  David 
speaks  when  recounting  the  wonders  of 
divine  power, — was  the  Hon.  T.  H.  Per- 
kins, for  fifty  years  one  of  the  most  emi- 
nent and  honored  of  Boston  merchants. 
On  seeing  the  far-famed  animal,  he  wrote 
down  notes  of  his  observations,  from  which 
it  appears  that  he  counted  fourteen  pro- 
jections, six  feet  apart,  on  the  back,  which 
he  presumed  to  be  vertical  flexures  of  the 
body  when  in  motion  ;  but  he  also  saw  the 
body  bent  horizontally  into  the  figure  of 
the  letter  S.     It  was  of  a  chocolate  brown 


color,  the  head  flat,  and  about  a  foot  across. 
Respecting  the  length,  Mr.  Mansfield,  a 
friend  of  Mr.  Perkins,  was  driving  a  one- 
horse  vehicle  on  a  road  skirting  Gloucester 
Bay,  along  the  edge  of  a  cliff,  fifty  or  sixty 
feet  in  perpendicular  height,  when  he  saw 
the  serpent  at  the  base  of  the  cliff  on  the 
white  beach,  where  there  was  not  more 
than  six  or  seven  feet  water,  and,  giving 
the  reins  to  his  wife,  looked  down  upon  the 
creature,  and  made  up  his  mind  it  was 
ninety  feet  long ;  he  then  took  his  wife  to 
the  spot,  and  asked  her  to  guess  its  length, 
and  she  said  it  was  as  long  as  the  wharf 
behind  their  house,  and  this  measured 
about  one  hundred  feet.  While  they  were 
looking  down  on  it,  the  creature  appeared 
to  be  alarmed,  and  started  off. 

Mr.  Cabot,  another  eminent  Boston  mer- 
chant, was  also  one  of  those  who  saw 
the  serpent,  and  gave  an  account  of  it  to 
that  distinguished  man  of  science,  who 
was  then  traveling  in  America.  Sir  Charles 
Lyell.  On  the  latter  asking  Mr.  Cabot 
whether  what  seemed  to  be  a  serpent,  or 
monster,  might  not  have  been  a  shoal  of 
porpoises  following  each  other  in  a  line,  at 
the  distance  of  one  or  two  yards,  and 
tumbling  over  so  as  to  resemble  a  string  of 
floating  barrels  in  motion,  Mr.  Cabot  said 
that  after  such  an  explanation  had  been 
suggested  respecting  the  matter,  he  was 
one  of  thirty  persons  who  ran  along  the 
beach  at  Nahant,  near  Boston,  when  the 
sea-serjient  was  swimming  very  near  the 
shore ; — they  were  all  convinced  that  it 
was  one  animal,  and  they  soon  saw  it  raise 
its  head  out  of  the  water.  Mr.  Cabot  also 
stated  that  there  were  at  that  time  two 
sea-serpents  moving  about  in  the  bay  at 
once. 

The  fact  of  the  sea-serpent's  course  not 
being  confined  to  the  places  at  the  north 
already  mentioned,  but  that  it  went  as  far 
south  as  Cape  Hatteras,  in  North  Carolina, 
latitude  thirty-five  degrees,  is  well  attested. 
Among  other  evidence  to  this  effect,  is 
tliat  of  Captain  Johnson,  of  New  Jersey, 
who  states  that  he  was  sailing  from  the 
West  Indies,  on  the  inner  edge  of  the 
Gulf  Stream^  in  a  deeply  laden  brig,  when 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


579 


they  were  becalmed,  and  the  crew  and 
passengers  awe-struck  by  the  sudden  appa- 
rition of  a  creature  having  a  cylindrical 
body  of  enormous  lengtli,  and  which  lifted 
up  its  head  eight  feet  above  the  water. 
The  story  was  so  likely  to  be  discredited, 
that  the  captain  Avould  only  relate  it  to 
intimate  friends. 

One  of  the  most  readable  and  reliable 
narratives  concerning  this  gigantic  fish,  is 
that  contained  in  a  letter  written  by  James 
Prince,  formerly  United  States  marshal,  to 
Judge  Davis,  of  Massachusetts.  His  head 
(writes  Mr.  Prince,)  appeared  about  three 
feet  above  water,  and  on  his  back  were 
to  be  seen  thirteen  bunches.  He  passed 
three  times,  at  a  moderate  rate,  across  the 
bay,  but  so  as  to  occasion,  a  foam  in  the 
water;  and  in  length  the  monster  was 
judged  to  be  from  forty  to  not  more  than 
sixty  feet.  Whether,  however,  the  wake 
might  not  have  been  added  to  the  appear- 
ance of  his  length,  or  whether  the  undu- 
lation of  the  water  or  his  peculiar  manner 
of  propelling  himself  might  not,  also,  have 
caused  the  appearance  of  protuberances, 


could  not  be  positively  determined.  The 
first  view  of  the  animal  occasioned  some 
agitation  on  the  part  of  the  observers,  and 
the  novelty  of  the  scene  perhaps  prevented 
that  precise  discrimination  which  after- 
Avards  took  place.  As  he  swam  up  the 
hay,  the  spectators  moved  on  and  kept 
nearly  abreast  of  him,  He  occasionally 
withdrew  himself  under  the  water,  and 
the  idea  occurred  to  those  who  witnessed 
his  movements,  that  his  practice  of  now 
and  then  raising  his  head  above  the  level 
of  the  water  was  to  take  breath,  as  the 
time  he  kept  under  was,  on  an  average, 
about  eight  minutes;  and,  after  being 
accustomed  to  viewing  him,  the  party 
became  more  composed,  and  his  general 
appearance  was  as  above  delineated. 

Mrs.  Prince  and  the  coachman,  having 
the  best  eye-sight,  were  of  great  assistance 
to  Mr.  Prince,  in  marking  the  progress  of 
the  animal ;  they  would  say,  '  He  is  now 
turning,'  and,  by  the  aid  of  a  glass,  Mr. 
Prince  saw  him  distinctly  in  that  move- 
ment. He  did  not  turn  without  occupying 
some  space,  and,  taking  into  view  the  time 
and  space  which  he  found  necessary  to  his 
accommodation  in  this  process,  some  crite- 
rion was  afforded  by  which  to  judge  of  the 
creature's  length.  Seven  distinct  views 
were  obtained  of  him,  from  the  longbeaili, 
so  called,  and  at  some  of  them  the  animal 
was  not  more  than  a  hundred  yards  dis- 
tant. Mr.  Prince  had  been  accustomed  to 
see  whales,  sharks,  grampuses,  porpoises, 
g  and  other  large  fishes,  but  this  monster 
I  partook  of  none  of  the  appearances  of  either 
~  of  these.    The  water  was  extremely  smooth 


APPEABANCE  OF  THE  HUGE  SEA-SERPENT  ALONG  THE  ATLANTIC  COAST. 


580 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


and  clear,  and  the  time  occupied  in  these 
minute  and  deliberate  observations,  was 
more  than  three  hours.  The  company  of 
witnesses,  exceeding  two  hundred,  were  all 
alike  satisfied  and  united  as  to  the  appear- 
ance of  the  animal,  in  respect  to  size  and 
movements,  as  here  described. 

But,  that  the  existence  of  the  American 
sea-serjient  is  not  a  "local  trumped-up 
wonder,"  will  further  appear  from  the 
account  given  by  a  Jiarty  of  five  English 
officers,  Avhich  sailed  from  Halifax,  Nova 
Scotia,  in  a  small  yacht,  for  Mahone  Bay, 
forty  miles  westward,  on  a  fishing  excur- 
sion, and  whose  testimony  is  unanimous 
and  unreserved  relative  to  this  monarch  of 
the  tribes  of  the  deep. 

According  to  the  statement  published 
in  the  "  Zoiilogist,"  of  the  experiences  of 
this  party  of  officers,  they  had  run  about 
half  the  distance  intended,  as  they  sup- 
posed, and  were  enjoying  themselves  on 
deck,  smoking  cigars,  and  getting  their 
tackle  ready  for  the  contemplated  campaign 
against  the  salmon,  when,  what  was  the 
party's  surprise,  to  see  an  immense  shoal 
of  grampuses,  appearing  to  be  in  an  unu- 
sual state  of  excitement,  and  which,  in 
their  gambols,  approached  so  close  to  the 
yacht,  that  some  of  the  company  amused 
themselves  by  firing  at  them  with  rifles. 
At  this  time,  the  boat  was  jogging  on  at 
al)0ut  five  miles  an  hour,  and  was  crossing 
Margaret's  Bay.  Their  attention  was 
l)resently  diverted  from  the  grampuses  and 
"  such  small  deer,"  by  an  exclamation  from 
tlie  man-of-war's-man,  who  was  sitting  to 
leeward,  of  "  Oh  !  sirs,  look  here  !  "  They 
were  started  into  a  ready  compliance  with 
the  excited  summons,  and  at  once  saw  an 
object  which  banished  all  other  feelings 
save  wonder  and  surprise. 

At  the  distance  of  some  one  hundred 
and  fifty  to  two  hundred  yards  on  the  star- 
board bow  of  the  little  craft,  they  saw  the 
head  and  neck  of  some  denizen  of  the 
deep — precisely  like  those  of  a  common 
snake, — in  the  act  of  swimming,  the  head 
so  far  elevated  and  thrown  forward  by  the 
curve  of  the  neck  as  to  enable  the  observ- 
ers to  see  the  water  under  and  beyond  it. 


The  creature  passed  along  rapidl}?-,  leaving 
a  regular  wake,  from  the  commencement 
of  which  to  the  fore  part,  which  was  out  of 
water,  the  length  seemed  to  be  about 
eighty  feet — certainly  not  less  than  this. 
They  were,  of  course,  all  taken  aback  at 
the  sight,  and  with  staring  eyes  and  in 
speechless  wonder  stood  gazing  at  it  for 
full  half  a  minute,  all  being  perfectly  sat- 
isfied that  they  had  been  favored  with  a 
view  of  the  true  and  veritable  sea-serpent, 
which  by  many  was  regarded  as  existing 
only  in  the  brain  of  some  Yankee  skipper, 
and  treated  as  a  tale  not  much  entitled  to 
belief.  The  man-of-war's-man's  exclama- 
tion was  characteristic  as  well  as  pertinent 
— "  Well,  Vve  sailed  in  all  parts  of  the 
xoorld,  and  have  seen  sum  sights  too  in  my 
time,  but  this  is  the  queerest  thing  I  ever 
see  !  " 

The  difficulty  of  giving  correctly  the 
dimensions  of  any  object  in  the  water  is 
well-known.  The  head  of  the  creature  was 
by  this  party  set  down  at  about  six  feet  in 
length,  and  that  portion  of  the  neck  which 
was  visible,  at  the  same ;  the  ajiparent 
extreme  length,  at  between  eighty  and  a 
hundred  feet.  The  thickness  of  the  neck 
equaled  the  trunk  of  a  moderate  sized  tree. 
The  color  of  the  head  and  neck  was  a 
dark  brown,  nearly  approaching  to  black, 
streaked  in  an  irregular  manner  with 
white. 

Another  witness  who  may  profitably  be 
cited  in  this  connection,  as  alike  intelli- 
gent and  disinterested,  is  Captain  IM'Quhfe, 
commander  of  the  English  ship  Daedalus, 
in  the  autumn  of  1848.  While  the  ship's 
company  were  at  supper,  and  the  officers 
walking  the  deck,  an  object  of  unusual 
appearance  was  observed  approaching  the 
ship  from  before  the  beam.  On  examina- 
tion, it  was  discovered  to  be  an  enormous 
serpent,  with  head  and  shoulders  kept 
about  four  feet  constantly  above  the  sur- 
face of  the  sea;  and  as  nearly  as  they 
could  approximate  by  comparing  it  with 
what  their  main-topsail  j'ard  would  show 
in  the  water,  there  was  at  the  very  least 
sixty  feet  of  the  animal  visible,  no  portion 
of  which  was,  to  appearance,  used  in  pro- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


581 


polling  it  through  the  water,  either  by 
vertical  or  horizontal  undulation.  The 
captain  states  that  it  passed  rapidly,  but 
so  close  under  the  lee  quarter,  that  had  it 
been  a  man  of  his  acquaintance,  he  should 
have  easily  recognized  his  features  with 
the  naked  eye;  and  it  did  not,  either  in 
approaching  the  ship  or  after  it  had  passed 
the  ship's  wake,  deviate  in  the  slightest 
degree  from  its  course  to  the  south-west, 
which  it  held  on  at  the  pace  of  from  twelve 
to  fifteen  miles  per  hour,  apparently  on 
some  determined  purpose.  The  diameter 
of  this  serpent,  or  sea-snake,  was  about 
fifteen  or  sixteen  inches  behind  the  head; 
and  it  was  never,  during  the  twenty  min- 
utes that  it  continued  in  sight  of  the  cap- 
tain's glasses,  once  below  the  surface  of 
the  water.  Its  color  was  of  a  dark  brown, 
with  yellowish  white  about  the  throat.  It 
had  no  fins,  biit  something  like  the  mane 
of  a  horse  washed  about  its  back. 

Captain  M'Quhae  states,  with  great  pos- 
itiveness,  that  the  creature  was  different 
from  anything  he  had  before  witnessed — 
resembling  neither  a  whale,  a  gramjDus,  a 
great  shark,  an  alligator,  nor  any  of  the 
larger  surface-swimming  creatures  fallen 
in  with  in  ordinary  voyages  ;  neither  was 
it  a  common  seal,  nor  a  sea-elephant,  its 
great  length  and  its  totally  differing  phys- 
iognomy precluding  the  possibility  of  its 
belonging  to  any  such  species.  The  cal- 
culations formed,  as  to  its  dimensions  and 
character,  were  the  result  of  the  most  dis- 
criminating observations.  Indeed,  it  was 
not  until  after  the  great  length  of  the 
object  was  developed  by  its  nearest  ap- 
proach to  the  ship,  and  until  after  that 
most  important  j^oint  had  been  duly  con- 
sidered and  debated — as  well  as  such  could 
be  in  the  brief  space  of  time  allowed  for  so 
doing, —  that  it  was  pronounced  to  be  a 
serpent  by  all  who  saw  it. 

Captain  M'Quhae's  second  officer  states 
that  the  appearance  of  the  serpent's  head 
— which,  with  the  back  fin,  or  mane,  was 
the  only  portion  of  the  animal  visible, — 
was  long,  pointed,  and  flattened  at  the  top, 
the  length  being  perhaps  ten  feet,  and  the 
upper   jaw    projecting   considerably;    the 


fin  or  mane  was,  perhaps,  twenty  feet  in 
the  rear  of  the  head,  sind  visible  occasion- 
ally. The  upper  part  of  the  head  ami 
shoulders  api)eared  of  a  dark  brown  color, 
and  beneath  the  under  jaw  a  brownish 
wliite.  It  pursued  a  steady  and  undevi- 
ating  course,  keeping  its  head  horizontal 
with  the  water,  and  in  rather  a  raised  posi- 
tion, disappearing  occasionally  beneath  a 
wave  for  a  very  brief  interval,  and  not 
apparently  for  the  purposes  of  respira- 
tion. It  was  going  at  the  rate  of  soine 
twelve  to  fourteen  miles  an  hour,  as  nearly 
as  could  be  estimated,  and  its  w'hole  aj)- 
pearance  gave  one  quite  the  idea  of  a 
large  snake  or  eel;  no  one  in  the  slii]> 
had  ever  seen  anything  similar  or  so  ex- 
traordinary. 

The  first  appearance  of  this  famous 
creature,  of  any  considerable  size,  on  land, 
was  the  one  described  in  the  journals  as 
having  been  cast  up  on  the  coast  of  Ber- 
muda, in  January,  1859.  It  appears  that 
two  gentlemen,  walking  on  the  beach  of 
Hungary  Bay,  heard  a  strange  splashing 
in  the  water,  and  almost  directly  afterward 
saw  a  strange  sea-monster  stranded  on  the 
shore,  and  rapidly  dying  from  exhaustion. 
It  was  bright  and  silvery  in  color,  without 
scales,  and  nearly  twenty  feet  long.  On 
being  examined  by  a  scientific  gentleman, 
Mr.  Matthew  Jones,  a  fellow  of  the  Lin- 
nsean  Society  of  London,  a  report  was 
drawn  up  and  published,  some  of  the  prin- 
cipal facts  enumerated  being  as  follows  : 
Body,  attenuate,  compressed,  naked  ;  skin, 
a  silvery  covering  of  metallic  luster ;  dej^tli, 
at  fourteen  inches  from  the  extremity  of 
the  face,  nine  inches,  and  increasing  grad- 
ually to  near  the  A'ent  of  the  stomach, 
when  it  attained  its  greatest  thickness  of 
eleven  inches,  and  then  decreasing  by 
degrees  to  the  end  of  the  tail.  Width,  at 
the  same  distance  and  through  the  spinal 
column,  two  and  a  half  to  three  inches. 
All  along  the  back,  a  series  of  intermittent 
fins  extended,  and  so  (dosely  situated  to 
each  other  as  to  appear  like  one  single  fin. 
Head,  truncated  and  compressed  ;  face  of  a 
dark  color.  Eyes  of  a  bright  silver  color, 
with    oval   pupils    of  a  light    transparent 


582 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Hue.  There  was  no  appearance  of  any 
teeth.  It  was  a  male  fish,  and,  from  the 
extremely  fragile  nature  of  its  various 
parts,  had  evidently  not  attained  to  matu- 
ritv.      The  examiner  classified  the  creat- 


ure with  what  is  popularly  denominated 
the  monster  sea-serpent,  it  being  reasona- 
bly assumed  that  a  creature  which,  in 
infancy,  was  sixteen  feet  long,  might 
attain  an  enormous  size  at  maturity. 


LXVIII. 

RECEPTION    OF    GOV.    KOSSUTH,    THE    GREAT    HUNGA- 
RIAN EXILE,  AS  THE  INVITED  GUEST  OF  THE 

NATION.— 1851. 


Splendid  Military  Pageant  in  New  York,  on  His  Arrival. — Welcomed  and  Banqueted  by  President  Fill- 
more.— Received  witii  Distinguished  Official  Honors  on  the  Floor  of  Congress. — He  Eloquently 
Pleads  His  Country's  Cause  in  all  Parts  of  the  Land — Processions,  Congratulatory  Addresses,  Accla- 
mations, etc. — A  True-Hearted  Patriot. — What  Hungary  Fought  for. — Austrian  Despotism  Resisted. 
— Independence  Demanded  — Kossuth  the  Leading  Champion — Armies  in  the  Field. — Successes  and 
Reverses. — Russia's  Sword  for  Austria. — Kossuth's  Flight  to  Turkey. — Long  an  Exile  There. — 
America  Interposes  for  Him. — Offers  a  Conveyance  to  the  United  States. — The  Nation's  Courtesy 
Accepted. — Frigate  Mississippi  Sent. — Kossuth  and  Suite  on  Board. — His  Landing  at  New  York. — 
Magnificent  Preparations  for  Him. — Invited  to  Washington — Speech  before  Congress. — An  Unprec- 
edented Distinction. — His  Untiring  Labors. — Greatest  Orator  of  the  Day. 


"  Freedom  mid  Home  I  what  heavenly  music  in  those  words!    Alas,  I  have  no  home,  and  the  freedom  of  my  people  is  down-trodden.** 
—Kossuth,  ON  uis  Arrival  in  Amkrica. 


IT.   S.    STEAMER  MISSISSIPPI  CONVEYING  KOSSUTH 


^^^^Y^OSSUTH'S  reception  in  the  United  States,  as  the  great  J 
^^3  ^  ^    advocate  of  Hungarian  independence,  was,  in  some  of  its 

^^^^^,  ^    most  interesting  aspects,  like  that  accorded  to  the  illustri-  i^^'^^S 


584 


OUR  FIEST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ous  Lafayette.  In  the  case  of  Kossuth, 
however,  instead  of  homage  for  services 
Tendered  in  the  dark  liour  of  our  nation's 
peril,  the  welcome  extended  him  was  the 
tribute,  spontaneous  as  well  as  universal, 
of  a  great  and  admiring  republic,  to  one 
of  the  bravest  and  most  eloquent  of  pa- 
triots, enthusiastically  appealing,  in  his 
exile,  to  the  generous  sympathies  of  man- 
kind, in  behalf  of  his  father-land, — a  people 
strong  and  valorous,  but  crushed  beneath 
the  heavy  chains  of  Austrian  desiDOtism, 
backed  by  the  power  of  Russian  bayonets. 

Louis  Kossuth  was  born  in  1806,  at 
Monok,  in  the  north  of  Hungary,  of  ])<i- 
rents  not  rich,  yet  possessing  land,  and 
calling  themselves  noble.  His  native  dis- 
trict was  a  Protestant  one,  and  in  the 
pastor  of  that  district  3'oung  Kossuth 
found  his  first  teacher.  His  parents  dying, 
the  youth,  more  devoted  to  books  than 
farming,  Avas  dispatched  to  the  jjrovincial 
college,  where  he  remained  till  the  age  of 
eighteen,  having  earned  even  at  that  time 
the  reputation  of  being  the  most  able  and 
promising  youth  of  the  whole  district.  In 
1826,  he  removed  to  the  university  of 
Pesth,  where  he  came  in  contact  with  the 
progressive  political  influences  and  ideas 
of  the  time;  and  these,  blending  with  his 
oivn  historic  stvidies  and  youthful  liopes, 
soon  produced  the  ardent,  practical  patriot. 

According  to  the  constitution  of  Hun- 
gary, the  electoral  body — called  "Comi- 
tats," — treated  those  elected  to  sit  in  the 
Diet  more  as  delegates  than  as  deputies. 
They  gave  them  precise  instructions,  and 
expected  the  members  not  only  to  conform 
to  them,  but  to  send  regular  accounts  of 
their  conduct  to  their  constituents  for  due 
sanction,  and  with  a  view  to  fresh  instruc- 
tions. This  kind  of  communication  was 
rather  an  onerous  task  for  the  Hungarian 
country  gentlemen,  and  hence  many  of 
the  deputies  employed  such  young  men  as 
Kossuth  to  transact  their  political  business, 
and  conduct  their  correspondence.  Acting 
in  this  capacity  for  many  members  of  the 
Diet,  Kossuth  not  only  became  an  expert 
parliamentary  agent,  but  won  great  polit- 
ical esteem  and  influence. 


This  kind  of  position  soon  made  Kos- 
suth a  member  himself,  and  from  the  very 
first  he  distinguished  himself  in  the  Diet 
as  a  sj)eaker.  Under  his  lead,  too,  the 
Diet  proceeded  to  establish  a  journal  for 
the  publication  of  its  debates,  but  which, 
being  garbled  and  curtailed  by  the  Aus- 
trian censors,  soon  passed  into  Kossuth's 
hands  exclusively,  who  extended  the  scope 
of  the  journal  by  inserting  editorial  arti- 
cles. The  character  of  these  articles  so 
incensed  the  Austrian  authorities,  that 
they  seized  his  presses.  In  a  short  time, 
however,  Kossuth's  reports  and  articles 
were  printed  by  the  then  new  method  of 
lithography,  and  circulated  even  more 
largely,  notwithstanding  the  increased 
labor  and  expense.  This  success  but 
redoubled  the  inveteracy  of  the  Austrian 
government,  which  dissolved  the  Diet,  and 
were  no  sooner  rid  of  its  control  and 
importunity,  than  they  discovered  and 
destroj'^ed  all  Kossuth's  lithographic  appa- 
ratus. But  even  this  did  not  stojj  his  jjen 
nor  those  of  his  many  amanuenses  ;  until 
at  last  Metternich,  the  prime  minister,  ex- 
asperated by  Kossuth's  obstinacy,  caused 
him  to  be  seized  and  condemned  to  impris- 
onment, for  the  crime  of  treason.  The 
indignation  and  agitation  which  followed 
this  act,  ended,  eventuallj',  in  his  release. 

Unterrified  by  prisons  and  dungeons, 
Kossuth,  aided  by  the  counsels  and  co-o])e- 
ration  of  his  associates,  continued  to  stir 
the  hearts  of  his  countrymen,  and  to 
demand  political  independence  for  his 
country.  Among  the  many  men  of  noble 
birth,  wealth,  national  renown,  and  exalted 
talents,  who  surrounded  him,  Kossuth 
shone  pre-eminent.  In  1847,  he  was  the 
acknowledged  leader  of  the  constitutional 
party,  and  member  for  the  Hungarian  cap 
ital.  Nor  did  he  falter  when  many  broke 
off  from  him,  and  refused  to  follow  his 
extreme  measures  of  resistance.  Of  this 
last  class  were  the  Hungarian  aristocracy, 
turning  to  whom,  Kossuth  ironically  said, 
"  With  you,  if  you  choose  ;  withoitt  you, 
or  against  yon,  if  it  must  he.'' 

The   vehemency   with    which   lie  advo- 
cated the  right  and  ability  of  the  people  of 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


585 


Hungary  to  govern  themselves  was  aston- 
ishing, and  multitudes  rallied  to  his  stand- 
ard. Nothing  in  modern  eloquence  equals 
his  speeches  and  proclamations  at  this 
time.  He  also  vigorously  assailed  the 
tariff  system  imposed  upon  Hungary,  and 
which  crippled  her  industry,  thrift,  and 
power, — a  point  which  he  used  to  great 
advantage  in  gaining  public  opinion.  Up 
to  1847,  he  thus  continued,  with  matchless 
eloquence  and  amazing  activity,  to  secure 
a  reform  in  the  institutions  and  laws 
affecting  his  countr}^, — a  transformation  of 
her  moral,  political,  and  material  interests, 
as  against  the  hostile  polic_y  of  Austrian 
absolutism.  It  was  a  struggle  for  the 
rights  of  Hungary,  in  all  circumstances 
and  ascainst  all  foes.  And  now  came  that 
eventful  year  in  the  history  of  Europe, 
1848,  which  drove  Louis  Philippe  in  terror 
from  the  throne  of  France,  and  filled 
aimost  every  capital  of  empires  and  king- 
doms with  the  bayonets  of  those  who,  long 
oppressed,  resolved  now  to  be  free.  This 
was  the  hour  for  Hungary,  and  Kossuth 
was  the  man  !  In  a  long  series  of  years, 
with  the  j)en,  with  the  press,  and  as  an 
orator,  he  had  circumvented  and  repelled 
the  arts  of  Austrian  despotism.  The  time 
had  now  come  to  create  a  treasury,  organ- 
ize an  army,  and  accept  the  wager  of 
battle.  Under  the  lead  of  Kossuth's  ani- 
mating spirit  was  this  accomplished;  and 
the  motley  bands  of  Hungarian  recruits, 
under  the  direction  of  Kossuth  as  governor 
of  the  nation,  waged,  for  a  time,  such  vic- 
torious warfare  against  the  veteran  legions 
of  Austria,  as  fairly  astonished  the  world. 
It  was  in  March,  1848,  that  the  spirit  of 
revolution  broke  out  in  Vienna,  the  Aus- 
trian capital.  Metternich,  the  wily  tool 
of  tyrants,  tied  in  dismay.  Kossuth  en- 
tered the  capital  in  triumph !  Terror- 
stricken  at  the  gulf  of  ruin  which  yawned 
before  him,  the  emperor  made  haste  to 
grant  concessions,  namely,  the  emancipa- 
tion of  the  Hungarian  peasantry  from 
feudal  burdens,  a  fair  representation  of  the 
whole  people  in  the  Diet,  the  abolition  of 
all  exemptions  from  taxation,  the  freedom 
of  the  press,  and  trial  by  jury.     But,  not- 


withstanding the  emperor's  assent  to  these 
enactments,  the  Austrian  government  was 
soon  engaged  in  fouienting  grave  difficul- 
ties in  Hungarian  affairs,  and  this  led  to 
those  great  military  preparations  on  the 
part  of  Kossuth,  which  rapidly  took  the 
form  of  active  and  bloody  war. 

With  great  vigor  and  spirit  did  the 
brave  Hungarians  cai'ry  on  the  campaign, 
and  for  a  time  their  armies  were  every- 
where successful.  But  afterwards,  Russia 
came  and  flung  both  sword  and  purse  into 


the  scale,  and,  though  the  armies  of  the 
tyrants  had  suffered  five  great  defeats  and 
lost  every  military  position  they  had 
gained,  the  odds  of  numbers  against  the 
struggling  patriots  had  now  become  too 
vast  to  admit  of  successful  resistance  on 
their  part.  Buda  was  stormed  and  taken 
possession  of  by  the  Hungarians  in  May, 
but  immense  Russian  forces  were  in  a  few 
weeks  collected  on  the  frontiers,  and  in 
July  they  simultaneously  poured  into  Hun- 
gary from  the  north  and  east,  while  the 
Croats,  under  Jellachich,  advanced  from 
the  south,  and  the  Austrians  from  the 
west.  The  struggle  was  soon  terminated. 
Gorgey,  the  Hungarian  general,  surren- 
dered with  his  army  of  forty  thousand  men 
to  the  Russians,  only  two  days  after  the 
governorship  of  the  country  had  been 
resigned  to  him  by  Kossuth.  Other  sur- 
renders soon  followed,  and  thus  the  war 
ended. 


586 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


During  this  struggle,  the  forces  brought 
into  the  field  at  any  one  time  by  the  Hun- 
garians, never  exceeded  one  hundred  and 
thirty-five  thousand  men,  with  four  hun- 
dred pieces  of  artillery  ;  against  whom 
were  opposed,  in  the  final  campaign,  one 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  Russians,  and 
one  hundred  and  ten  thousand  Austrian 
troops,  besides  insurgent  Wallacks,  Servi- 
ans, etc.,  making  a  total  of  three  hundred 
thousand  men. 

Thus  perished,  through  Russian  inter- 
vention, the  cause  of  Hungarian  nation- 
alitif. 

Kossuth's  name  had  been  nailed  to  the 
Austrian  gallows,  and  he  fled  as  an  exile 
into  Turkey.  Austria  and  Russia  de- 
manded that  he  be  delivered  up,  but  France 
and  England  interposed  in  his  behalf,  and 
the  sultan  continued  to  protect  him  in  the 
asylum  which  he  had  chosen.  At  length, 
the  offer  of  a  resolution  in  the  senate  of  the 
United  States,  that  the  American  govern- 
ment should  exert  its  influence  in  behalf 
of  the  exiles,  seemed  likely  to  solve  the 
difficulty.  This  resolution  passed.  As 
soon  as  the  sultan  — who  certainly  had 
risked  the  safety  of  Turkey  in  disregard- 
ing the  threats  of  Austria  and  Russia — 
received  the  assurance  of  the  support  of 
America  and  England,  he  not  only  at- 
tached no  condition  to  their  liberation,  but 
gave  them  the  choice  of  being  conveyed  to 
England  or  America,  as  they  preferred. 
The  legation  of  the  United  States  at  Con- 
stantinople having  assured  Kossuth  that 
no  restraint  would  be  put  upon  his  liberty 
in  America,  he  gratefully  accepted  the 
offer  made  by  congress,  and  wrote  a  letter 
of  thanks  to  President  Fillmore. 

In  September,  1851,  the  fine  American 
steam-frigate  Mississippi  arrived  for  the 
conveyance  of  the  late  governor  of  Hun- 
gary, his  wife,  his  three  children,  and  his 
friends,  to  whatever  country  they  desired. 
Soli  man  Bey,  the  Turkish  guard  of  the 
refugees  during  their  exile,  and  who  had 
never  failed  in  the  most  respectful  atten- 
tions to  them,  was  overcome  with  emotion 
when  Kossuth  came  to  leave,  and  in  part- 
ing said  to  him,  "  You  are  free,  and  now 


you  will  find  friends  everywhere ;  do  not 
forget  those  who  were  your  friends  when 
you  had  no  other."  From  their  first 
entrance  into  Turkey  to  the  hour  of  their 
leaving,  the  Hungarians  had  experienced 
unvarying  kindness,  hospitality,  and  cour- 
tesy. 

Kossuth  proposed  to  pay  a  short  visit  to 
England,  on  his  way  to  the  United  States, 
As  the  Mississippi  approached  the  coasts 
of  Italy  and  France,  bonfires  were  kindled 
along  the  heights,  as  a  sign  of  rejoicing. 
Kossuth  proposed  to  stop  at  Marseilles, 
and  travel  thence  to  England,  but  the 
French  authorities,  by  direction  of  Louis 
Napoleon,  would  not  permit  him  to  land. 
The  people  of  France,  however,  gave  him 
ample  demonstration  that  they  were  not 
responsible  for  the  acts  of  the  government ; 
they  crowded  around  the  ship,  offering 
him  garlands  of  laurel,  while  they  pre- 
sented wreaths  of  everlasting  to  the  Amer- 
icans, and  filled  the  air  with  enthusiastic 
cheei's.  While  opposite  the  shores  of 
Marseilles,  an  oj^erative  came,  notwith- 
standing the  cold,  swimming  through  the 
water,  on  board  the  frigate,  to  grasp  Kos- 
suth's hand.  Kossuth  pressed  the  work- 
man's hand  most  warmly,  and  gently 
reproached  him  for  his  temerity.  '  Que 
voulez  vous,'  he  replied ;  '  I  desired  to 
touch  your  hand,  I  could  not  find  a  boat,  I 
took  to  the  water,  and  here  I  am.  Are 
there  any  obstacles  to  him  who  wills  ? ' 

Landing  at  Gibraltar,  Kossuth  took  pas- 
sage in  the  English  steamer  Madrid  for 
Southampton,  and,  after  a  most  enthusi- 
astic reception  in  the  principal  English 
cities  by  the  hard-working  masses,  they 
left  for  America.  To  the  great  republic 
of  the  west  he  had  been  invited  by  con- 
gress, and  here  he  was  received  as  the 
nation's  guest  by  the  president,  b}'  sena- 
tors and  representatives,  by  governors  and 
legislators,  by  men  in  the  highest  station, 
and  by  the  whole  mass  of  the  people. 
He  arrived  off  Staten  Island,  December, 
fifth,  and  was  received  by  an  official  depu- 
tation who  came  on  board  to  welcome  him 
to  the  United  States. 

Saturday,  December  sixth,  was  the  day 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


587 


fixed  upon  by  the  great  metropolis  of  the 
nation,  to  celebrate  his  lauiliug  in  Amer- 
iea  ;  a  few  days  before,  President  Fillmore 
had  announced  to  congress  the  arrival  of 
their  illustrious  guest.  The  very  skies  of 
heaven,  by  their  brightness  and  serenity, 
seemed  to  [)artioipate  in  tlie  welcome 
accorded  to  the  distinguished  chief.  At 
an  earl}^  hour,  the  streets  were  tilled  with 
a  vast  concourse.  The  decorations  of  the 
streets,  public  buildings,  private  houses, 
and  places  of  business,  were  on  a  large 
scale  and  in  a  style  of  imposing  magnifi- 
cence. Myriads  of  eager  spectators  filled 
the  space  from  the  Park  to  Castle  Garden, 
intent  on  gaining  an  early  glimpse  of  the 
world-renowned  guest  of  patriotic  Ameri- 
can hospitality. 

Tlie  steamer  that  had  been  provided  to 
bring  Kossuth  up  to  the  city,  was  decor- 
ated at  the  bows  with  a  large  Hungarian 
standard,  and  underneath,  on  the  same 
flag-pole,  was  the  flag  of  the  ship.  At  the 
stern,  a  large  United  States  banner,  bear- 
ing the  stars  and  stripes,  floated,  and 
showed  a  beautiful  contrast  with  the  Hun- 
garian flag.  On  the  arrival  of  the  chief- 
tain at  the  steamer,  he  was  recognized  by 
his  Hungarian  hat,  and  large  velvet  em- 
broidered coat,  and  a  spontaneous  burst  of 
applause  rose  from  the  anxious  company 
who  were  looking  out  from  the  vessel.  At 
this  moment,  the  band  struck  up  "  Hail  to 
the  Cliief,"  and  the  salute  from  the  guns 
of  the  steamer  began,  which  was  the  signal 
for  another  burst  of  enthusiastic  ap^dause. 
After  much  pushing  and  crowding,  in 
which  neither  ladies  nor  Hungarians  were 
much  respected,  the  party  got  on  board, 
and  the  steamer  put  off  into  the  bay,  the 
greeting  of  crowds  on  the  shore  being  per- 
fectly tumultuous.  On  getting  upon  the 
boat,  Kossuth  remained  for  some  time 
viewing  the  expansive  bay,  and  listening 
to  the  descriptions  of  its  various  portions. 

At  half-i)ast  twelve  o'clock,  the  steamer 
came  to,  at  Castle  Garden,  and  the  com- 
pany began  to  debark.  An  avenue  was 
formed  by  the  police  and  military,  through 
which,  Kossuth,  his  staff,  and  the  other 
gentlemen  passed  to  the  large  room,  which 


they  reached  after  much  crushing  and 
pushing.  Among  the  throng  of  eager 
expectants  in  the  Garden  was  a  large  rep- 
resentation of  ladies.  The  actual  arrival 
of  Kossuth  was  the  signal  for  an  uncon- 
trollable uproar,  and  a  fearful  rush  was 
made  toward  the  door  by  which  he  was  to 
enter.  There  was  no  such  thing  as  keep- 
ing order  ;  cries  of  "  There  he  is,"  "  Hur- 
rah," deafening  cheers  and  shouts,  set  law 
and  order  completely  at  defiance.  When 
he  was  fairly  recognized  by  the  multitude, 
a  shout  was  given  that  threatened  to  raise 
the  vast  roof  from  its  place.  Nearly  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  of  indescribable  exulta- 
tion ensued,  and  all  the  beseeching  ges- 
tures of  the  mayor  and  committee  were 
unheeded. 

Finally,  the  mayor,  who  was  surrounded 
by  the  common  council  and  the  officers  of 
the  military  companies,  presented  an  ad- 
dress to  Kossuth,  and  then  said  : 

^^  I  present  to  you,  my  felloiv-citizens, 
Kossuth,  the  illustrious  Chief  of  Hun- 
cjaryy 

Kossuth  bowed  his  acknowledgments  of 
the  enthusiastic  cheers  of  the  crowd,  and 
then  proceeded  to  reply  in  a  speech  of 
most  masterly  eloquence  and  power. 

As  soon  as  the  illustrious  exile  left  the 
Garden  and  made  his  appearance  in  the 
Battery,  the  acclamations  of  the  tens  of 
thousands  present  burst  forth  in  almost  a 
simultaneous  cheer,  dense  and  far-reaching 
though  the  crowd  was.  He  was  provided 
with  a  horse,  and,  surrounded  by  his  com- 
panions in  exile,  rode  round  the  ranks. 
The  different  companies,  with  their  em- 
blazoned standards,  shining  armor,  and 
splendid  uniforms,  Avent  through  their 
evolutions  in  superb  style. 

The  scene  at  the  moment  Kossuth's 
carriage,  in  its  place  in  the  grand  proces- 
sion, entered  on  Broadway,  surpassed 
description.  Every  window  of  that  wide 
and  magnificent  thoroughfare,  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  see,  was  alive  with  human 
beings,  and,  amidst  the  waving  of  hand- 
kerchiefs, by  as  beautiful  an  array  of  the 
fair  sex  as  could  be  witnessed,  who  were 
most    enthusiastic   in  their  applause,    the 


588 


OUE  FIEST  CEKTUEY.— 1776-1876. 


honored  guest  passed  onward.  It  was  witli 
the  greatest  difficulty  that  the  line  of  the 
movement  could  he  kept  in  order,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  rush  of  the  liuman  tide 
that  endeavored  to  keep  up  with  the  car- 
riage containing  Kossuth.  Every  avenue 
leading  fi-oiu  Broadway,  lent  its  quota  of 
spectators,  to  swell  up  the  teeming  mass. 
Many  who  had  Avitnessed  similar  exhibi- 
tions of  2)opular  enthusiasm  from  the  time 
of  Lafayette's  arrival  in  1824,  said  that 
this  ovation  to  Kossuth  exceeded  all. 
Kossuth  returned  the  greetings  he  re- 
ceived witli  that  grace  and  dignity  always 


For  some  time,  Kossuth  gave  himself  up 
to  receiving  deputations  and  their  congrat- 
ulatory addresses.  These  hailed  from  all 
2)arts  of  the  land,  and  represented  states, 
municipalities,  corporations,  ecclesiastical 
and  political  bodies,  and  innumerable  soci- 
eties of  various  names,  objects,  and  nation- 
alities. One  of  these  deputations  con- 
sisted of  German  citizens  from  Albany, 
and,  after  the  usual  exchange  of  formal 
addresses,  Kossuth,  taking  each  one  kindly 
by  the  hand,  bade  him  adieu,  and  spoke  a 
few  words  of  cheer.  Approaching  one  of 
the  bystanders  who  had  uccoui;  anicd  one 


GRAND  MILITARY  REOEPTIOK  OF 

80  characteristic  of  him.  Yet,  he  seemed 
the  least  interested  of  any  one  in  the 
pageant — the  key  to  his  sadness  being 
found,  doubtless,  in  that  memorable  senti- 
ment uttered  by  him  in  one  of  his  speeches: 
"Freedom  and  home!  what  heavenly 
music  in  those  two  words  !  Alas,  I  have 
no  home,  and  the  freedom  of  my  people  is 
down-trodden  ! "  Such,  indeed,  was  the  pen- 
sive strain  in  which  Kossuth  always  spoke 
of  himself  and  of  his  ill-fated  father-land. 


GOVERNOR  KOSSUTH,  IK  NEW  YORK. 

deputation,  Kossuth  took  him  by  the 
hand  and  inquired  if  he  too  was  an  Al- 
banian. 

''No,  I  am  a  Jersey  man,"  rcj)lied  the 
interrogated,  whose  fair  complexion,  and 
presence  with  the  German  companv,  had 
evidently  occasioned  the  mistake.  "  There 
are  several  of  us  here  from  the  state  of 
New  Jersey,"  exclaimed  an  old  farmer, 
"  ?r«  liava  come  fifty  miles  to  see  you." 
"Believe  me,  my  friends,"   replied   Kos- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


589 


suth,  "  I  deeply  appreciate  your  kindness. 
It  is  these  little  attentions  tliat  most 
touch  my  heart.  Adieu."  Incidents  like 
this  were  constantly  occurring. 

In  Pliiladelpliia,  Kossuth  was  received 
in  Independence  Hall,  where  the  immor- 
tal Declaration  of  American  Independence 
had  been  proclaimed  just  three-quarters  of 
a  century  ago.  From  Philadelphia  he 
went  to  Baltimore,  where  he  was  escorted 
to  his  hotel  by  a  vast  concourse  of  people, 
and  a  long  line  of  military.  The  city 
council  had  voted  resolutions  expressive  of 
their  sympathy  with  the  exiles,  and  with 
their  struggles  for  independence,  and  had 
sent  to  New  York  an  address  welcoming 
Kossuth  and  his  companions.  Kossuth 
now,  therefore,  in  the  hall  of  the  Mar^'land 
Institute,  expressed  his  thanks  to  the  citi- 
zens of  Baltimore. 

He  reached  Washington  on  the  thirtieth 
of  December,  where  a  committee  consisting 
of  Senators  Seward,  Cass,  and  Shields,  had 
been  appointed  to  officially  welcome  him 
to  the  nation's  capital.  The  secretary  of 
state,  Daniel  Webster,  Avas  among  the  first 
to  visit  Kossuth,  and  to  mark  his  respect 
for  him.  When  asked,  a  few  days  later, 
what  he  thought  of  the  Hungarian  exile, 
he  replied:  ^^  He  has  the  manners  of  a 
king — his  is  a  roijal  naturcP 

The  following  day,  after  the  president's 
levee,  the  rooms  of  Kossuth  were  crowded 
with  visitors,  citizens  and  dignitaries,  who 
came,  not  only  to  see  the  man  whose  fame 
had  filled  two  hemispheres,  but  to  honor 
the  noble  cause  he  represented.  On  the 
sixth  of  January,  Kossuth  dined  with  the 
president  of  the  United  Str.tes,  and  other 
high  officials,  at  the  executive  mansion. 
He  was  also  invited  to  an  audience  given 
by  the  president  to  the  Indian  delegations 
from  the  far  Avest.  On  the  seventh,  the 
congress  of  the  United  States  invited  him 
to  the  capitol,  an  honor  which  had  never 
before  been  bestowed  upon  any  individual, 
excepting  Lafayette.  The  galleries  and 
lobbies  were  crowded  with  ladies,  and  as  he 
entered,  the  members  of  the  house  all  rose, 
while  the  chairman  of  the  committee  intro- 
duced him  in  these  words : 


"  Mr.  Speaker,  I  have  the  honor  on  the 
part  of  the  committee,  to  present  Governor 
Louis  Kossuth  to  the  house  of  represent- 
atives." 

To  which  the  speaker  replied  : 

"As  the  organ  of  this  body,  I  have  the 
honor  to  extend  to  Louis  Kossuth  a 
cordial  welcome  to  the  house  of  represent- 
atives." 

Kossuth  then  said : 

"Sir,  it  is  a  remarkable  fact  in  the  his- 
tory of  mankind,  that  while,  through  all 
the  past,  honors  were  bestowed  upon  glory, 
and  glory  was  attached  only  to  success,  the 
legislative  authorities  of  this  great  repub- 
lic bestow  honors  upon  a  persecuted  exile, 
not  conspicuous  bj^  glory?  not  favored  by 
success,  but  engaged  in  a  just  cause. 
There  is  a  triumph  of  republican  princi- 
ples in  this  fact.  Sir,  I  thank  in  my  own 
and  my  country's  name,  the  house  of  rep- 
resentatives of  the  United  States,  for  the 
honor  of  this  cordial  welcome." 

After  he  had  taken  the  seat  prepared 
for  him,  the  house  was  adjourned,  to 
allow  those  who  had  assembled  to  witness 
this  introduction  to  be  presented  to  Kos- 
suth. 

In  the  evening,  a  banquet  was  given 
him  by  the  members  of  both  houses  of 
congress,  presided  over  by  Hon.  W.  R. 
King,  vice-president  of  the  United  States. 
Kossuth  was  placed  at  his  right  hand,  and 
Daniel  Webster,  secretar}^  of  state,  at  his 
left.  The  speaker  of  the  house  sat  at 
Kossuth's  side.  This  was  indeed  a  great 
occasion  for  Kossuth,  and  nobl}'  did  he 
bear  himself.  Senators,  judges,  diplomats, 
military  and  naval  dignitaries,  and  cabinet 
ministers,  were  there  to  do  him  honor. 
After  the  health  of  the  president,  and  of 
the  judiciary  of  the  United  States,  had 
been  given.  Judge  Wayne  of  the  supreme 
court  proposed  :  "  Constitutional  liberty  to 
all  the  nations  of  the  earth,  supported  by 
Christian  faith  and  the  morality  of  the 
Bible;"  a  toast  which  was  enthusiastically 
received.  The  presiding  officer  then  gave  : 
"Hungary:  represented  in  the  person  of 
our  honored  guest ;  having  proved  herself 
worthy  to  be  free,  by  the  virtues  and  valor 


590 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURiT.— 1776-1876. 


of  her  sons,  the  law  of  nations  and  the 
dictates  of  justice  alike  demand  tliat  she 
shall  have  fair  play  in  her  struggle  for 
independence."  Kossuth  replied  in  a  long 
and  eloquent  speech.  The  secretary  of 
state,  in  his  speech,  gave  an  authorized 
•assurance  of  President  Fillmore's  "kind- 
ness and  good  wishes  toward  the  guest  of 
the  nation,"  and  also  expressed  his  own 
high  appreciation  of  Kossuth,  liis  country 
and  his  cause.  Other  speeches  were  made 
by  tlie  great  orators  of  the  nation  there 
assembled,  and  nothing  could  exceed  the 
magnificence  of  this  occasion,  in  respect 
to  the  character  and  fame  of  those  in 
attendance,  the  splendor  of  the  intel- 
lectual efforts  of  the  speakers,  and  the 
sumptuousness  of  the  banquet  in  its  ma- 
terial aspects. 

To  the  far  west,  the  south,  and  again  to 
the  east,  Kossuth  extended  his  tour,  plead- 
ing the  cause  of  his  down-trodden  country, 
and  receiving  honors  and  distinctions,  such 
as  a  king  might  covet,  from  one  end  of  the 
broad  land  to  the  other.  Cities  gave  him 
the  freedom  of  their  municipalities  ;  legis- 
latures and  governors  invited  him  to  the 
capitals  of  their  states;  and  the  people 
everywhere  rushed  to  welcome  him.  But 
in  one  thing,  Kossuth  was  bitterly  disap- 
pointed, namely,  in  not  securing  tlie  active 
interference  of  the  United  States  in  behalf 
of  his  country's  rights.  With  all  his  vast 
powers  of  eloquence  and  logic,  in  demon- 
strating the  law  of  nations  in  this  regard, 
he  invoked  the  strong  arm  of  the  Ameri- 
can republic  to  interpose  for  Hungarian 
nationality.  But,  though  willing  to  pro- 
claim to  the  whole  world,  sympathy  and 
accord  with  the  Hungarian  movement,  the 
American  goverinnent  felt  obliged  to  re- 
frain from  any  acts  of  positive  interven- 
tion, as  contrary  to  national  usage  and 
policy. 

After  remainiiig  in  the  United  States 
about  six  months,  during  which  he  made 
nearly  three  hundred  speeches,  about  one 
hundred  of  which  were  elaborate  orations, 
Kossuth  departed  for  England.  A  patri- 
otic fund  which  had  been  raised  in  Amer- 
ica   for    the    cause    he     advocated,    was 


intrusted  to  him  for  the  service  of  his 
country ;  but,  after  watching  for  many 
years  the  political  skies  of  Eurojje,  and 
bringing  to  bear  all  the  resources  of  his 
fertile  mind  upon  the  questions  and  events 
affecting  the  destiny  of  his  country,  he  at 
last  saw  the  once  brightened  horizon  of  his 
beloved  father-land  settle  in  the  hopeless 
darkness  of  confirmed  and  accepted  Aus- 
trian rule. 

In  his  appearance  and  manners,  while  a 
visitor  to  this  country,  Kossuth  was  de- 
scribed by  those  who  enjoyed  frequent 
opportunities  of  personal  contact,  as  being 
live  feet  eight  inches  in  height,  with  a 
rather  slight  frame,  and  a  face  expressive 
of  a  penetrating  intellect — long,  with  a 
broad  forehead,  and  the  chin  narrow,  but 
square  in  its  form.  His  hair  thin  in  front, 
and  of  a  dark  brown,  the  same  as  his 
beard,  which  was  quite  long,  but  not  very 
thick,  and  arranged  with  neatness  and 
taste.  He  wore  a  moustache,  heavy  and 
somewhat  long.  His  eyes,  very  large  and 
of  a  light  blue,  well  set  beneath  a  full  and 
arched  brow  ;  complexion  pale,  occasioned, 
doubtless,  by  his  long  captivity  and  inces- 
sant application.  His  countenance  was 
characterized  by  an  aspect  of  almost  mel- 
ancholy earnestness,  of  refinement,  and  of 
gentleness,  mingled  with  manly  fire,  and 
an  air  of  prompt,  decisive  action. 

In  speaking,  nothing  could  be  more 
incomparably  dignified  and  graceful  than 
Kossuth's  manner  ;  gestures  more  admira- 
ble and  effective,  and  a  play  of  countenance 
more  magnetic  and  winning,  could  not  be 
conceived.  He  always  stood  quite  erect, 
instead  of  frequently  bending  forward,  as 
is  the  case  with  some  orators,  to  give 
emphasis  to  a  sentence.  His  posture  and 
appearance  in  repose  indicated  greatness, 
by  their  essential  grace  and  dignity,  and 
impressed  the  beholder  with  a  sense  of 
marked  individuality  and  power.  This 
sense  of  reserved  power  in  the  man — the 
certainty  that  he  was  not  making  an  effort 
and  doing  his  utmost,  but  that  behind  all 
this  strength  of  fascination,  there  were 
other  treasures  of  ability  not  brought  into 
notice,  and  perhaps  never  made  use  of^ 


GEEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


591 


constituted  one  of  the  great  charms  of  his 
oratory.  He  spoke  as  if  with  little  prepa- 
ration, and  with  that  peculiar  freshness 
which  belongs  to  extemporaneous  speak- 
ing;   every    movement    seemed   perfectly 


easy,  and  he  gesticulated  a  good  deal, 
equally  well  with  either  arm.  The  uni- 
versal remark  concerning  hiui  in  this 
respect  was,  that  he  was  the  greatest  of 


living  orators. 


LXIX. 

NATAL    EXPEDITION    TO    JAPAN,    UNDER    COMMODORE 

M.    C.    PERRY.— 1852. 


Negotiations  to  be  Opened  for  Unsealing  the  Ports  of  that  Empire  to  America. — Letter  of  Friendship 
from  the  President  of  the  United  States  to  tlie  Emperor. — Distinguished  Favor  Shown  the  Represen- 
tatives of  the  Great  Rejiublic. — Ceremonies,  Entertainments,  and  Diplomatic  Conferences. — Treaty 
of  Peace,  Amity,  and  Commercial  Intercourse  Concluded. — Former  Japanese  Isolation  Policy. — Exclu- 
sive Privileges  to  tiie  Dutch. — Effects  of  this  restriction. — European  Efforts  to  Change  it. — Mission 
of  Commodore  Biddle. —  Seeks  the  Release  of  United  States  Sailors.  —  Ordered  to  Depart  Forth- 
with.—  Firm  Conduct  of  Captain  Glynn.  —  Contempt  for  Japanese  Etiquette.  —  Champagne  as  a 
Mediator. —  Commodore  Perry's  Fine  Fleet. — The  Letter  in  a  Golden  Box — Its  Presentation  to  the 
Emperor. — Commissioners  Meet  Commodore  Perry. — Their  Attire,  Manners,  Etc. — The  Conference 
In  Session. — Frendliness  of  the  Japanese. — Civilities  and  Festivals. — Reception  on  the  Flag-Ship. — 
Substance  of  the  Treaty. — A  Talk  with  the  Emperor. — More  Privileges  Extended. 


"I  have  directed  Commodore  Perrj  toasaure  your  imperial  majesty  that  I  entertain  the  kindest  feelings  towards  your  majesty's  person 
and  government,  and  that  I  have  no  other  object  in  sending  him  to  Japan  but  to  propose  to  your  imperial  majesty  that  the  IJnited  States 
and  Japan  .should  live  in  friendship  and  have  commercial  intercourse  with  each  other."— TuE  Pbesidk»t's  Letter  to  the  £up£B0R. 


IT  APANESE  seclusion  from  the  rest  of  the  nations  of  the  earth,  and  especially 
from  the  governments  representing  the  same,  seemed,  for  centu- 
ries, tu  be  an  irritating  problem,  defying  the  utmost  ingenuity 
and  skill  of  diplomacy  to  solve  ;  and  the  various  attempts,  made 
by  different  governments,  to  break  through    this  impenetrable 
barrier  of  isolation,   were,  until   a   period  comparatively   recent, 
completely  abortive, — the  only  approach  to  anything  deserving 
the  name  of  commercial    intercourse  with  that   country  being  a 
restricted  privilege  to  trade  at  one  or  two  points,  granted  for  a 
time  to  the  Portuguese,  and  subsequently  to  the 
Dutch,  but,  in  each  case,  upon  conditions  most 
humiliating  to  the  parties  thus  favored  by  the 
Japanese. 

But  it  is  a  fact  which  would  seem  not  to 
admit  of  any  doubt,  that  this  practice  of  jeal- 
ous seclusion  is  fostered  rather  by  the  ruling 
classes,  than  by  the  masses  of  the  people,  and, 
therefore,  foreign  nations  have  felt  all  the 
more  justified  in  endeavoring  to  break  down  a 
policy  so  manifestly  at  war  with  the  rights 
and  interests  of  the  human  race.  Providence 
having  bestowed  the  whole  earth  on  the  chil- 
TREATY  OF  PEACE,  AMITY,  ETC.  dreii  of  men,  such  isolation  is  defeating  alto- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


593 


gether  tliat  beneficent  purpose  ;  for,  should 
other  nations  follow  the  example  of  Japan, 
and  refuse  to  conununicate  with  their 
iieiglibors,  there  would  be  an  end  of  all 
commerce,  of  all  progress,  of  all  civiliza- 
tion,—  industry  would  be  smitten  with 
paralysis,  and  men  would  regard  the  inhab- 
itants of  adjoining  countries  as  enemies. 

Of  the  efforts  put  forth  by  European 
nations  to  establish  commercial  and  politi- 
cal fraternity  with  Japan,  no  rehearsal 
need  be  here  made.  On  the  part  of  the 
United  States,  negotiations  were  under- 
taken during  the  administration  of  Presi- 
dent Polk,  through  Commodore  Biddle, 
but  with  no  success  of  a  permanent  char- 
acter. The  commodore  had  been  espe- 
cially charged  with  the  duty  of  bringing 
home  several  American  sailors,  who,  having 
escaped  from  the  wreck  of  their  whale-ship, 
succeeded  in  reaching  the  Japanese  coast, 
but  were  forthwith  imprisoned.  As  illus- 
trating the  rules  and  conduct  of  the  singu- 
lar people  into  whose  good  graces  the  com- 
modore tlius  essayed  to  propitiate  himself, 
the  following  circumstances,  as  related  by 
Mr.  Secretary  Kennedy  and  others,  will 
both  amuse  and  instruct,  and  form  a  fit  pre- 
liminary to  the  account  of  Commodore  Per- 
ry's subsequent  visit: — 

As  soon  as  Commodore  Biddle  had  an- 
chored in  the  bay  of  Yeddo,  a  junk,  with 
the  officials  of  the  empire,  came  out  to  his 
ship,  having  with  them  a  Dutch  inter- 
preter. Biddle  told  the  dignitaries  that 
the  vessels  came  with  good  will,  to  learn 
whether  Japan  had,  like  China,  opened 
her  ports  to  foreign  trade ;  and,  if  she 
had,  to  negotiate  a  treaty  of  commerce. 
The  dignitaries  requested  that  this  state- 
ment should  be  reduced  to  writing,  for 
transmission  to  the  higher  authorities. 
He  also  stated  that  all  needed  supplies 
would  be  furnished,  but  refused  any  per- 
mission to  land.  In  about  a  week,  an  offi- 
cer with  a  suite  of  eight  persons  came  on 
board  with  the  emperor's  letter,  which 
read  thus:  "According  to  the  Japanese 
laws,  the-  Japanese  may  not  trade  except 
with  the  Dutch  and  Chinese.  It  will  not 
be  allowed  that  America  make  a  treaty 
38 


with  Japan  or  trade  with  her,  as  the  same 
is  not  allowed  with  any  other  nation. 
Concerning  strange  lands,  all  things  are 
fixed  at  Nagasaki,  but  not  here  in  the 
bay  ;  therefore  you  must  depart  as  quick 
as  possible,  and  not  come  any  more  to 
Japan."  Biddle's  instructions  being  not 
to  do  anything  "  to  excite  a  hostile  feeling, 
or  distrust  to  the  United  States,"  he  was 
compelled  to  refrain  from  any  compulsory 
proceedings. 

It  so  happened,  that  when  the  junk, 
with  the  officials,  made  the  visit  to  the 
commodore's  vessel,  as  above  described, 
one  of  the  American  officers  stepped  on 
board ;  but,  in  consequence  of  his  having 
violated  Japanese  etiquette  by  boarding  a 
government  junk  before  the  official  bell 
had  been  rung,  a  Japanese  knocked  him 
overboard,  and  the  junk  returned  to  the 
shore.  The  officer,  very  naturally  thinking 
himself  badly  used,  demanded  an  apolog}-. 
The  next  day,  therefore,  the  commodore 
received  a  message  stating  that  the  Jap- 
anese who  had  knocked  the  American  over 
the  gangway,  would  be  sent  on  board  with 
his  father  and  mother,  brothers  and  sis- 
ters, grandmother,  wife,  and  wife's  sister, 
and  that  they  would  all  rip  themselves 
op  VI  before  the  captalv,  for  his  satisfac- 
tion. But  the  captain  did  not  want  to 
witness  that  sort  of  satisfaction,  and,  as 
he  could  not  ascertain  anything  about  the 
prisoners,  he  set  sail  for  home.  The  Jap- 
anese entertained  a  very  poor  opinion  of 
the  American  people,  in  consequence  of 
the  conduct  of  the  captain  on  that  occasion 
— a  nation,  they  thought,  that  would  not 
allow  men  to  rip  themselves  open,  must  be 
a  nation  of  cowards.  The  next  squadron 
to  Japan  was  directed  by  Captain  Glynn, 
who  determined  to  make  an  example  of  the 
Japanese. 

As  soon,  therefore,  as  the  American  ship 
approached  the  shore,  a  junk  came  off  to 
her,  and,  when  near  enough,  a  parchment 
was  extended  towards  the  ship's  officers 
on  a  reed.  The  captain  took  the  parch- 
ment and  threw  it  into  the  water.  In  an 
instant,  four  or  five  Japanese  jumped  over- 
board and  recovered  the  parchment,   be- 


594 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


cause,  as  the  captain  was  told  afterwards, 
they  would  have  been  ripped  open  if  the 
parchment  had  been  lost.  As  the  anchor- 
age usually  allotted  to  foreigners  did  not 
please  Captain  Glynn,  he  moved  towards 
a  more  convenient  haven.  Suddenly,  a 
voice  in  the  junk  shouted,  "You  must  go 
no  furder — you  must  go  no  furder!  "  The 
captain,  on  hearing  his  own  language,  said 
to  the  speaker,  "  You  are  the  very  man  I 
want."  He  hove  to  and  got  the  man  on 
deck.  "  Who  are  you,  sir  ?  "  asked  the 
captain.  "  I  am  the  interpreter,"  said  he. 
"  Are  you  one  of  the  big  men  of  this 
country  ?  "  asked  Glynn.  He  answered 
in  the  negative,  but  told  the  captain  that 
he  must  go  no  nearer  the  shore,  as  it  was 
contrary  to  the  Japanese  laws  to  do  so. 


U^CZ. 


"  Stranger,"  said  the  captain,  ''  I'll  go  just 
where  I  please,  and  I  don't  mean  to  speak 
to  any  one  on  the  island  under  the  prince 
or  governor."  So,  onward  he  sailed,  till 
he  came  to  a  place  that  suited  him,  where 
he  dropped  his  anchor.  Next  day  the 
prince  of  the  district,  with  a  great 
cortege,  consisting  of  about  fifty  men  in 
yellow  robes,  was  seen  walking  along  the 
shore. 

They  soon  entered  a  junk,  and  ap- 
proached the  ship.  The  yellow  men 
entered  first,  and  as  soon  as  they  did  so 
they  put  their  heads  to  the  deck  and  kept 
them  there.  When  the  great  functionary 
entered,  instead  of  going  aft,  as  is  the 
practice  with  Americans,  he  walked  for- 
ward.    Glynn    went  up  to  him,   clapped 


him  on  the  shoulder,  and  said,  '^Look  you 
here,  friend,  you  must  come  the  other 
way."  The  JajDanese  officers  and  men 
were  astonished  at  this  audacious  famil- 
iarity of  the  Americans,  and  thought  that 
their  prince  was  going  to  be  martyred.  It 
is  customary  in  Japanese  state  junks,  to 
have  an  elevated  platform  forward,  and 
that  is  the  place  of  honor.  The  Japanese 
officer  was  surprised,  therefore,  on  going 
on  the  quarter-deck  of  the  strange  ship,  to 
see  that  no  platform  had  been  provided ; 
and  so,  after  looking  round  for  the  seat  of 
honor,  he  went  to  the  helm  and  perched 
himself  on  the  rudder  post.  Glynn  sent 
for  a  chair,  and  pointed  to  it,  and  in 
language  which,  though  not  to  be  found  in 
manuals  of  politeness,  was  at  least  very 
perspicuous,  bade  him  put  himself  into  it. 
"Now,"  said  he,  turning  to  the  interpreter, 
"tell  him  that!"  The  interpreter  replied 
that  he  could  not  do  so,  as  such  a  remark 
from  him  would  insure  his  being  ripped 
open  on  the  spot.  The  captain  told  him 
that  if  he  didn't  obey  him  he  would  blow 
his  brains  out.  So  the  interpreter,  as  a 
choice  of  evils,  complied  with  the  com- 
mand. As  soon  as  the  prince  had  seated 
himself,  the  captain  ordered  a  bottle  of 
sherry  v.'inc,  of  which  he  offered  him  a 
glass.  The  interpreter  said,  "the  prince 
never  drinks."  "He  is  with  me  now,  and 
he  vmst  drink,"  replied  Glynn.  The 
prince  put  the  glass  to  his  lips,  but  did 
not  drink  the  liquor.  The  captain  then 
turned  round  to  the  interpreter  and  asked, 
"  Will  you  have  it  ?  "  He  replied  in  the 
negative.  The  captain  then  offered  cham- 
pagne. When  the  prince  saw  how  it 
sparkled,  his  scruples  vanished,  and  he 
drank  it  off.  The  captain  filled  another 
and  yet  another  glass,  which  the  prince 
enjoyed  infinitely.  When  the  captain  saw 
that  he  had  pleased  the  prince,  he  told 
him,  through  the  interpreter,  that  he  had 
come  for  the  American  prisoners,  and  they 
must  be  given  up  immediately.  The 
prince  said  forty  days  would  be  required 
to  send  to  Yeddo  for  them.  Glynn  replied, 
"I  must  sail  in  three  days,  and  I  must 
have    them    then."      After    some   demur, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


595 


four  days  were  alloweil,  at  which  time  the 
prisoners  wei'e  returned. 

In  dispatching  the  expeditiou  under 
Commolore  Perr^^,  the  object  of  the 
United  States  government  was  to  obtain 
some  definite  sti[)uhitions,  in  the  form  of  a 
treaty,  for  mutual  commercial  transactions, 
between  tlie  two  countries;  and,  in  order 
to  suitably  impress  the  Japanese  witli  the 
serious  cliaraeter  of  the  movement,  tlie 
fleet  sent  out  was  composed  of  some  of  the 
finest  and  most  formidable  ships  in  the 
American  rnivy,  carrying  a  large  number 
of  sailors  and  marines,  and  more  than  the 
usual  complement  of  guns,  mostly  heavy 
ordnance.  Each  of  the  steamers  mounted 
a  couple  of  Paixhan  shell-guns,  of  the 
largest  caliber,  and  placed  on  revolving 
trucks,  so  as  to  sweep  the  horizon, — these 
guns  being  intended  to  be  used  for  tlie 
discharge  of  shells  of  sixty-eight  and  one 
hundred  and  twenty  pounds  each,  and 
long  forty-twos,  making  twenty-two  guns 
to  each  steamer.  Every  ship  was  provided 
with  two  brass  twenty-four-pound  field 
pieces. 

With  this  splendid  display  of  naval 
power,  Commodore  Perry  sailed  from  the 
United  States,  in  the  steamship  Missis- 
sippi, November  24,  1852,  touched  at 
Madeira  and  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope, 
reached  Hong  Kong  in  April,  1853,  and 
thence  sailed  for  Japan.  After  uniting 
all  the  vessels  of  the  squadron,  Perr}', 
leading  the  fleet  in  the  flag-ship  Susque- 
hanna, made  Cape  Idzu  on  the  eighth  of 
July.  Their  first  anchorage  and  inter- 
course with  the  natives  was  near  the  town 
of  Uraga.  On  the  fourteenth,  Prince 
Iwami  gave  Commodore  Perry  a  formal 
reception  on  shore,  and  took  charge  of  the 
president's  letter  to  the  emperor. 

This  letter,  which  was  written  by  Hon. 
Edward  Everett,  secretary  of  state,  and 
signed  by  President  Fillmore,  was  beauti- 
fully engrossed  on  parchment  and  depos- 
ited in  a  gold-mounted  box  of  superb 
workmanship  and  costing  a  thousand  dol- 
lars. The  excellent  spirit  in  which  it  was 
couched  will  appear  from  the  opening  sen- 
tences, namely :  "  Great  and  Good  Friend  : 


I  send  you  this  jjublic  letter  by  Commo- 
dore Matthew  C.  I'erry,  an  officer  of  the 
highest  rank  in  the  navy  of  the  United 
States,  and  commander  of  the  squadron 
now  vis'ting  your  imperial  majesty's 
dominions.  I  have  directed  Commodore 
Perry  to  assure  your  im[)erial  majesty  that 
I  entertain  the  kindest  feelings  towards 
3'our  majesty's  person  and  government, 
and  that  I  have  no  other  object  in  sending 
him  to  Japan  but  to  propose  to  your 
imperial  majesty  that  the  United  States 
and  Japan  should  live  in  friendship  and 
have  commercial  intercourse  with  each 
other.  Tlie  Constitution  and  laws  of  the 
United  States  forbid  all  interference  with 
the  religions  or  political  concerns  of  other 
nations.  I  have  particularly  charged 
Commodore  Perry  to  abstain  from  every 
act  which  could  possibly  disturb  the  tran- 
quillity of  your  imperial  majesty's  domin- 
ions ; "  etc.  In  this  friendly  and  resjiect- 
ful  strain  was  the  whole  of  the  presidential 
letter  written. 

Abundant  time  having  been  given  the 
Japanese  authorities  to  decide  upon  what 
course  they  would  pursue,  the  American 
squadron,  which  had  temporarily  with- 
drawn, now  re-appeared  in  the  bay  of 
Yeddo.  As  soon  as  they  had  anchored,  a 
number  of  Japanese  officers  went  on  board 
the  flag-ship  to  welcome  the  commodore 
and  his  officers  back,  and  to  inform  him 
that  preparations  had  been  made  for  his 
reception  at  Uraga,  where  an  answer  from 
the  emperor  to  the  president's  letter  would 
be  delivered  to  him,  and  begged  that  he 
would  move  his  squadron  down  to  that 
place.  To  this,  the  commodore,  tlirough 
the  captain  of  the  fleet,  peremptorily  re- 
fused to  accede,  on  the  ground  that  the 
anchorage  there  was  too  much  exposed  at 
such  a  season  of  the  j'ear,  and  even  inti- 
mated that  he  might  have  to  go  up  to 
Yeddo,  the  imperial  capital ! 

Several  days  passed  in  fruitless  argu- 
ments on  the  part  of  the  Japanese  to 
induce  the  commodore  to  j'ield  this  jtoint. 
In  the  meantime,  the  surve3Mng  part}'  had 
been  actively  employed,  and,  as  the  Jap- 
anese  began   to   assume    an   independent 


596 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


and  intractable  tone,  a  signal  was  thrown 
out  and  the  squadron  moved  up  the  bay, 
to  a  position  ten  or  twelve  miles  above  the 
'  American  Anchorage,'  and  in  front  of  the 
city  of  Kaiiagawa.  Boats  were  immedi- 
ately dispatched  to  make  further  examina- 
tions of  the  channel  in  the  direction  of  the 
capital ;  but  before  they  returned,  the  dig- 
nitaries from  Uraga  arrived,  and,  forget- 
ting their  pertinacious  obstinacy  of  a  few 
hours  previously,  good-humoredly  begged 
that  an  officer  might  be  sent  with  them  to 
select  a  suitable  anchorage  and  place  of 
reception  somewhere  in  the  vicinity  of 
where  the  squadron  lay.  The  commodore 
assenting  to  this,  the  village  of  Yoko- 
hama was  chosen  on  account  of  the  excel- 
lent shelter  afforded  by  its  harbor. 

The  squadron  then  present,  consisting 
of  the  steam-frigates  Powhatan,  Susque- 
hanna, and  Mississippi,  sloops-of-war  Mac- 
edonian, Vandalia,  and  Saratoga,  and 
store-ships  Southampton  and  Lexington, 
anchored  in  a  line  off  the  town,  and  the 
Japanese  set  to  work  with  a  will  to  erect 
suitable  buildings  for  the  conferences. 

On  the  eighth  of  March,  the  accommo- 
dations being  completed,  the  commodore, 
by  appointment,  landed  with  a  suite  of 
officers  and  an  escort  of  five  hundred  sea- 
men and  marines.  He  was  received  by 
five  commissioners  appointed  by  the  em- 
peror to  coi  fer  with  him,  consisting  of  the 
supreme  counselor,  the  prince  of  Tsa- 
Sima,  the  prince  of  Mimi-Saki,  a  member 
of  the  board  of  revenue,  and  one  other 
officer  of  high  rank.  The  seamen  and 
marines  were  all  armed,  and,  with  drums 
beating,  colors  flying,  bands  playing  at 
intervals,  and  salutes  fired  on  the  an-ival 
of  the  officials,  the  scene  was  indeed  a 
striking  one.  Thousands  of  Japanese  sol- 
diers crowded  the  shore  and  neighboring 
heights,  looking  on  with  curious  interest. 
Tlie  house  was  a  plain  frame-bnihling, 
containing  one  large  room — the  audience 
hall — and  several  smaller  ones  for  the  con- 
venience of  attendants,  etc.  The  floor 
was  covered  with  mats,  and  very  prettily 
painted  screens  adorned  the  sides.  Long 
tables   and    benches,    covered    with    red 


woolen  stuff,  placed  parallel  to  each  other, 
three  handsome  braziers,  filled  with  burn- 
ing charcoal,  on  the  floor  between  them, 
and  a  few  violet-colored  crape  hangings 
suspended  from  the  ceiling,  completed  the 
furniture  of  the  room.  The  Americans 
took  their  seats  at  one  of  the  tables,  and 
the  Japanese  commissioners  placed  them- 
selves at  the  other  table  opposite  ;  while 
behind  them  both,  seated  on  the  floor  on 
their  knees — their  usual  position,  as  they 
do  not  use  chairs — was  a  crowd  of  Jap- 
anese officers,  forming  the  train  of  the 
commissioners.  The  business  was  carried 
on  in  the  Dutch  language,  through  inter- 
preters. 

First  of  all,  after  an  exchange  of  com- 
pliments, the  communication  from  the 
emperoT  to  the  president  of  the  United 
States  was  delivered  in  due  form  by  the 
commissioners,  and  then  they  expressed 
themselves  prepared  to  commence  discus- 
sions upon  the  various  points  contained  in 
the  president's  letter,  and  also  to  receive 
any  further  propositions  that  might  be 
made, — the  commissioners  stating  that,  in 
the  determination  of  the  emperor  to  make 
some  modification  in  their  laws  of  seclu- 
sion, he  relied  upon  the  friendly  disposi- 
tion of  the  Americans  towards  Japan,  and, 
as  such  negotiations  ^yere  entirely  novel 
to  them,  they  would  trust  with  confidence 
to  the  commodore's  superior  experience, 
to  his  generosit}',  and  his  sense  of  justice. 
A  real  desire  was  manifested  by  the  Jap- 
anese to  cultivate  friendly  feelings  with 
their  guests ;  in  fact,  the  general  bearing 
of  the  people  had  already  convinced  the 
Americans  that  Japanese  distrust  of  them 
had  measurably  worn  away. 

Refreshments  were  served  in  elegantly 
lacquered  dishes — first  of  all,  tea,  which,  as 
in  China,  is  the  constant  beverage ;  then 
different  kinds  of  candy  and  sponge  cake ; 
and,  lastly,  oranges,  and  a  jialatable  liquor, 
distilled  from  rice,  and  called  saki.  What 
was  left  on  their  plates,  by  the  Americans, 
at  the  close,  was  wrapped  in  paper,  and 
given  them  to  carry  awa}',  according  to 
the  usual  custom  in  Japan.  The  commis- 
sioners   were     intelligent    looking    men. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


597 


riclily  dressed  in  gay,  silk  petticoat  panta- 
loons, and  upper  garments  rescniMing  in 
sliape  ladies'  short  gowns.  Dark-colored 
stockings,  and  two  elegant  swords,  pushed 
through  a  twisted  silk  girdle,  finished  the 
costume.  Straw  sandals  are  worn,  but  are 
always  slipped  off  on  entering  the  house. 
The}^  do  not  co^i^er  the  liead,  the  top  and 
front  part  of  which  is  shaved,  and  the 
back  and  side  hair,  being  brought  up,  is 
tied  so  as  to  form  a  tail,  three  or  four 
inches  long,  that  extends  forward  upon  the 
bald  pate,  terminating  about  half  way 
betw'een  the  apex  and  the  forehead ;  this  is 


beautiful  locomotive,  tender,  and  passenger 
car,  one-fourth  the  ordinary  size,  also  a 
mile  of  magnetic  telegraph,  the  operations 
of  which  were  exhibited  on  shore.  These 
excited  a  great  deal  of  interest  among  the 
Japanese,  particularly  the  telegraph,  when 
they  came  to  comprehend  its  utility  in  the 
transmission  of  intelligence,  communica- 
tions being  made  in  their  presence  in  the 
English,  Japanese,  and  Dutch  languages. 
They  were  also  delighted  with  the  railroad, 
when  they  saw  the  engine  and  car  fiying 
along  the  track  at  the  rate  of  twenty  miles 
an  hour,  but  thought  it  would  be  inipossi- 


NAVAL  EXPEDITroX  TO  JAPAN  UNDER  COMMODORE  M.  C.  PERRY. 


a  very  comfortable  fashion,  and,  were  it 
not  for  the  quantity  of  grease  used  in  it, 
would  be  a  cleanly  one. 

The  negotiations  proceeded  harmoni- 
ously, but,  on  account  of  the  exacting  cer- 
emony peculiar  to  the  Japanese,  very 
slowly.  Thus,  a  question  proposed  had  to 
pass  first  through  the  interpreters,  and 
then  tluough  several  officers  ascending  in 
rank,  before  it  could  reach  the  commis- 
sioners, every  one  bowing  his  head  to  the 
floor  before  he  addressed  his  superiors. 
Among  the  presents  intended  for  the 
emperor  was  a  small  railroad  track,  with  a 


ble  to  construct  them  to  advantage  in 
Japan,  owing  to  the  very  uneven  surface 
of  the  country ! 

The  policy  of  the  commodore  had  been, 
on  both  this  and  his  former  visit,  to  ob- 
serve a  strict  exclusiveness,  and  the  Jap- 
anese were,  on  all  occasions,  given  to 
understand  that,  with  a  desire  on  the  part 
of  the  Americans  to  establish  friendly 
relations,  no  unworthy  restrictions  or 
exactions  would  be  submitted  to ;  that 
they  came  among  them  not  to  beg,  but  to 
dispense  favors ;  that,  conscious  of  the 
power   of   their    government,   they   were, 


598 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


nevertheless,  desirous  of  meeting  them  on 
equal  and  honorable  terms,  and  upon  no 
other  conditions  whatever  could  they  con- 
sent to  hold  amicable  intercourse  with 
them.  The  favorable  effect  of  this  course 
was  very  apparent ;  they  were  glad  to  be 
admitted  on  board  the  ships,  and  the  com- 
missioners offered  no  objections  to  the 
officers  strolling  about  the  country  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  ancliorage. 

Whilst  the  negotiations  were  pending, 
the  commodore  gave  an  entertainment  to 
the  commissioners,  on  board  the  flag-ship. 
They  also  visited  other  vessels  of  the  squad- 
ron. The  engines  of  the  steamers  were 
put  in  motion,  that  their  operation  might 
be  witnessed.  The  ships'  companies  were 
drilled  at  general  quarters,  and  attention 
was  called  to  the  caliber  of  the  heavy 
guns  in  use  among  western  nations. 
Their  usual  stoicism  and  self-possession 
were  not  proof  against  such  novelties, 
and  they  were  unable  to  withhold  their 
admiration  and  surprise.  During  the 
entertainment,  toasts  to  the  emperor  and 
the  president  were  drank  with  all  the 
honors,  the  guests  did  amj^le  justice 
to  the  sumptuous  dinner,  and  the  com- 
pan}^  did  not  disperse  until  a  very  late 
hour. 

At  length,  after  much  diplomacy  on  the 
part  of  the  Japanese,  —  the  Americans 
strenuously  refusing  to  accept  any  propo- 
sition to  go  to  Nagasaki, — a  treaty  of 
ftmity,  peace,  and  commei'ce,  was  agreed 
to  and  ratified,  three  copies  in  Japanese 
6eing  delivered  to  Commodore  Perry,  and 
three  copies  in  English,  signed  by  himself, 
with  Dutcli  and  Chinese  translations,  be- 
ing delivered  to  the  imperial  commission- 
ers. Article  first  of  the  treaty  established 
peace  and  amity  between  the  United 
States  and  Japan  ;  article  second  assigned 
the  ports  of  Simoda,  in  the  principality  of 
Idzii,  and  of  Makodadi,  in  the  principality 
of  Matsmai,  for  the  reception  of  American 
ships,  and  where  they  might  obtain  wood, 
water,  provisions,  and  coal,  payment  to  be 
made  in  gold  and  silver;  articles  tliird, 
fourth,  fifth,  and  sixth,  provide  for  good 
treatment,  security  to  property,  etc.,  in  the 


case  of  American  vessels  and  crews  ship- 
wrecked on  the  coast ;  article  seventh  pro- 
vided that  ships  of  the  United  States 
resorting  to  the  ports  opened  to  them, 
should  be  permitted  to  exchange  gold  and 
silver  coin,  and  articles  of  goods,  for  other 
articles  of  goods,  under  such  regulations  as 
the  Japanese  government  might  tempora- 
rily establish  for  that  purpose,  it  being 
also  stipulated  that  the  ships  of  the  United 
States  should  be  permitted  to  carry  aw^ay 
whatever  articles  they  received  in  ex- 
change. These  articles  were  the  most 
important  embraced  in  the  treaty,  which 
was  signed  March  31,  1854.  The  treaty 
I)rivileges  thus  obtained  by  Commodore 
Perry  for  the  United  States,  were  the 
most  liberal  and  advantageous  of  any 
which,  up  to  that  time,  had  been  accorded 
by  Japan  to  a  foreign  people ;  but  the 
same  or  eqixal  privileges  were  afterwards 
permitted  to  other  nations,  and,  subse- 
quently, new  treaties  were  made  with  the 
United  States,  greatly  enlarging  the  lib- 
erty of  trade. 

As  already  stated  above,  one  of  the  arti- 
cles of  the  treaty  gave  to  citizens  of  the 
United  States  the  right  of  free  access  to 
the  two  Japanese  ports  of  Simoda  and 
Hakodadi,  and,  with  this,  unrestricted 
liberty  in  the  surrounding  country  em- 
braced by  a  radius  of  about  sixteen  English 
miles.  These,  with  some  other  stijjula- 
tions  of  a  certain  character,  it  was  thought 
desirable  to  make  a  jiractical  test  of,  before 
the  departure  of  the  squadron  from  the 
waters  of  Japan. 

Accordingly,  a  few  day  a  after  the  con- 
clusion of  the  treaty,  which  were  occupied 
in  completing  the  survej's  on  hand  of  por- 
tions of  Yeddo  Bay,  the  sliii)S  sailed  for 
Simoda,  it  being  a  short  distance  to  the 
south  and  westward, — a  capital  harbor, 
and  surrounded  by  a  charming  and  highly 
cultivated  country.  Accustomed  to  a  sys- 
tem of  unrelenting  es])ionage,  it  required 
much  patience  and  address  to  bring  the 
inhabitants  to  a  proper  appreciation  of  the 
new  condition  of  things  ;  but  in  a  short 
time,  however,  the  movements  of  the 
officers  and  men  about  the  city  and  coun- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


599 


try  became  as  unhampered  and  safe  as  in 
any  part  of  the  United  States. 

After  making  an  accurate  survey  of  the 
harbor  and  its  approaclios,  tlie  squadron 
sailed  for  Hakodadi ;  and,  altliougli  six 
weeks  liad  elapsed  since  the  signing  of  the 
treaty,  the  authorities  protested  that  they 
liad  heard  nothing  of  it,  and  consequently 
nothing  of  the  intended  visit  of  the  squad- 
ron, and  gave  as  an  evidence  that  the 
women  and  children  liad  all  fled  to  the 
interior,  frightened  at  the  approach  of  the 
ships  off  the  harbor.  On  delivering  a 
letter  from  the  commissioners,  however, 
and  showing  them  the  treaty,  their  anxi- 
ety was  at  once  allayed,  and  all  were  very 
kindly  received.  The  deputies  dispatched 
from  Yeddo,  by  the  commissioners,  to 
meet  the  commodore  at  Hokodadi,  did  not 
arrive  till  he  was  on  the  eve  of  sailing, 
and  stated  that  they  had  been  upwards  of 
fifty  days  on  the  road,  although  the  dis- 
tance by  the  air  line  was  less  than  four 
hundred  miles.  Still,  the  intercourse  with 
the  authorities  and  inhabitants  had  been 
very  satisfactory,  and  the  parting  was  one 
of  sincere  mutual  regret. 

The  subsequent  treaty,  made  by  Mr. 
Townsend  Harris,  United  States  consul- 
general  at  Japan,  secured  several  addi- 
tional ports  to  American  commerce.  Mr. 
Harris  was  in  direct  contact  with  the 
emperor,  at  Yeddo,  during  a  portion  of  the 
time  emi)loyed  in  negotiating  this  treaty, 
— a  contact  as  interesting  as  it  was  unique. 
Mr.  Harris  states  that  after  passing 
through  the  various  fortified  gateway's,  up 
to  the  gate  of  the  jialace  itself,  he  was 
received  at  the  entrance  by  two  chamber- 
lains, who  conducted  him  to  an  apartment 
where  a  chair  had  been  placed  for  his  use. 
Tea,  bon-bons,  and  other  refreshments, 
were  offered,  and  a  large  number  of  princes 
came  to  be  presented  to  him.  Passing 
through  a  large  hall,  in  which  some  three 
or  four  hundred  nobles  of  the  empire,  all 
dressed  in  their  court  costume,  were  kneel- 
ing, all  silent  and  motionless  as  statues, 
Mr.  Harris  entered  the  supreme  audience 


chamber.  At  this  moment,  a  chamberlain 
called  out,  '  Merrican  Embassador,'  and 
then  the  prince  of  Sinano  threw  himself 
down  and  crawled  along,  as  the  consul 
walked  in.  Advancing  up  the  room,  and 
making  three  bows  as  he  proceeded,  Mr. 
Harris  halted  at  the  head  of  two  lines  of 
men,  who  were  prostrate  on  their  faces ; 
those  on  the  right  were  members  of  the 
council  of  state,  with  the  prince  of  Bittsu 
at  their  head,  and  those  on  the  left  were 
brothers  of  the  emperor. 

His  majesty  was  seated  on  a  chair 
placed  on  a  dais,  elevated  some  three  feet 
above  the  floor  of  the  chamber.  He  was 
dressed  in  ^-ellow  silk,  and  wore  a  black 
lacquered  cap  of  indescribable  peculiarity. 
After  a  short  pause,  the  consul  made  an 
address  to  the  emperor ;  and,  after  a  simi- 
lar i:)ause,  his  majesty  replied  in  a  clear 
and  i)leasant  voice.  At  the  close  of  the 
emperor's  speech,  the  consul's  secretary 
passed  the  president's  letter  intended  for 
the  emperor  to  Mr.  Harris ;  the  latter 
removed  the  silk  cover — striped,  red  and 
white, — opened  the  box,  and  displayed  the 
writing  to  the  prince  of  Bittsu,  who  now 
stood  up,  and  then,  closing  the  box,  Mr. 
Harris  handed  it  to  the  prince,  who  placed 
it  on  a  lacquered  stand,  prepared  for  the 
purpose.  The  prince  again  became  pros- 
trate, and  then  the  emperor  bowed  to  the 
consul,  smiling  pleasantlj'^  as  he  did  so. 
This  ended  the  audience,  and  Mr.  Harris  re- 
tired from  the  I'oom,  still  facing  the  empe- 
ror, and  making  the  customar}'  three  bows. 

From  the  audience  chamber,  the  consul 
was  taken  to  another  room,  where  the 
great  councilors  of  state  congratulated 
him  on  the  interview  just  held,  and  ex- 
pressed much  wonder  and  astonishment  at 
what  they  called  his  'greatness  of  heart.' 
On  asking  their  meaning,  they  told  the 
consul  that  they  were  filled  with  admira- 
tion to  see  him  stand  erect,  look  the  awful 
'tycoon'  in  the  face,  speak  plainly  to  him, 
hear  his  reply — and  all  this  without  any 
trepidation,  or  any  '  quivering  of  the  mus- 
cles of  the  side  ! ' 


LXX. 

EXHIBITION  OF  THE    INDUSTRY    OF   ALL    NATIONS,    IN 

NEW  YOKK.— 1853. 


Construction  of  the  Crystal  Palace,  a  Colossal  Building  of  Glass  and  Iron  — Four  Acres  of  Surface  Cov- 
ereil  with  tiie  Treasures  of  Art,  Science,  and  Mechanism,  from  Every  Land. — Inauguration  of  the 
Knterprise  by  Tresident  Pierce — Five  Thousand  Contributors. —  Splendor  of  the  Palace  of  Industry 
by  Day  ;  Its  Gorgeous  Illumination  at  Night. — Eclat  of  the  Great  London  Fair. — Emulation  Stimu- 
lated Abroad. — An  American  Exhibition  Proposed. — Popularity  of  the  Idea. — Plan  for  a  Building 
Accepted. — Its  Style,  Size,  and  Decorations — Admirable  Adaptation  of  the  Structure. — Superiority 
to  the  London  Pahice. — Rapid  Progress  of  the  Enterprise — Interest  of  Foreign  Countries  Enlisted. 
— Progran)rae  of  Management. — Brilliant  Ceremony  at  the  Opening. — Celebrities  Present:  Speeches 
Made. — Grand  Hallelujah  Chorus  Sung. — Constant  Tide  of  Visitors. — Beauty,  Utilit}',  Aniu>^ement. 
— Attractions  from  Abroad. — Contributions  by  Monarchs. — Victoria's  Beautiful  OflTeriiig. — The  Grand 
Industries  of  Civilization. — Lesson  Taught  by  Such  a  Display. — Luster  Reflected  on  America. 


"  Worthy  of  the  erandest  circumstances  which  could  be  thrown  around  a  human  aseembly,  worthy  of  this  occasion,  and  a  hundred  like 
this,  is  that  beautiful  idea,  the  Coronation  of  Labok."— Kliuu  Bukkitt. 


INTERIOR  OF  THE  WORLD'S  FAIR,  NEW  YORK. 


OLLOWING  the  brilliant  and 
successful  example  of  England, 
in  the  erection  of  a  colossal  crys- 
tal palace  in  Hyde  Parle,  London, 
for  a  World's  Fair,  in  1851,— 
and  into  which  flowed  tlie  treas- 
ures of  art.  science,  and  mechan- 
ism, from  the  four  quarters  of  tlie 
glohe, — American  enterprise  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  a  similar  struc- 
ture, for  the  exhibition  of  the 
industry  of  all  nations,  in  the 
commercial  metropolis  of  Amer- 
ica ;  and  this  idea,  so  popular  in 
view  of  the  splendid  eclat  attend- 
ins  the  vast  and  magnificent 
display  in  London,  was  soon  car- 
ried forward  to  a  complete  and 
happy  consummation. 

The  idea  of  such  a  grand  na- 
tional display  became,  in  a  short 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


601 


time,  the  all  engrossing  one,  from  one  end 
of  the  land  to  the  other,  and  the  public 
men  at  the  seat  of  government  urged  upon 
the  United  States  representatives  at  for- 
eign courts,  a  sense  of  the  importance  of 
the  great  enterprise,  and  the  desirableness 
of  contributions  from  abroad.  It  was 
viewed  as  an  undertaking  which,  if  con- 
d;icted  with  energy  and  sagacity,  would 
add  luster  to  the  American  nation,  as 
showing  its  appreciation  of  the  luxuries 
and  refinements  of  art,  as  well  as  of  the 
more  substantial  exhibitions  of  human 
industry,  in  the  shape  of  manufactures, 
machinery,  etc. 

In  one  respect,  the  American  exhibition 
differed  irom  its  London  predecessor, 
namely :  the  latter  was  under  the  free  and 
unlimited  auspices  of  the  English  govern- 
ment, with  its  boundless  resources,  while 
the  former  was  undertaken  by  a  company 
of  individuals.  It  Avas  not,  however,  an 
exclusively  private  speculation,  but  existed 
under  a  charter  granted  by  the  legislature, 
the  company  being  known,  in  their  corpo- 
rate style,  as  the  "  Association  for  the 
Exhibition  of  the  Industry  of  All  Nations," 
comprising  men  of  eminence  in  all  the 
influential  spheres  of  society,  and  of  this 
Association.  Mr.  Theodore  Sedgwick  re- 
ceived the  high  honor  of  being  elected 
president.  So  vast  and  multitudinous, 
however,  were  the  details  of  such  an  under- 
taking, that  much  delay  attended  the  oper- 
ations of  those  charged  with  its  active 
responsibilities.  Gradually,  after  the  en- 
countering of  many  formidable  obstacles, 
the  preliminary  matter  of  a  suitable  build- 
ing was  decided ;  and  then,  with  instinct- 
ive American  speed,  the  speculation  in 
Crystal  Palace  stock  at  once  commenced, 
and  was  one  of  the  most  active  "  fancies," 
the  gains  of  forty  and  fifty  per  cent.,  as 
was  in  some  cases  experienced,  being  quite 
stimulating.  The  stock  rose,  at  one  time, 
to  seventy  or  eighty  per  cent,  above  par. 
One  gentleman,  who  had  watched  the 
building  closely  as  it  advanced  in  the 
course  of  construction,  observed  one  day 
something  which  he  thought  might  injure 
the  safety  of  the  edifice.     It  was  only  a 


fancy  of  his ;  but,  being  impressed  with 
it,  he  walked  quietly  into  Wall  street,  and, 
selling  out,  pocketed  a  gain  of  fifteen  thou- 
sand dollars.  The  distribution  of  the  stock 
into  so  many  hands,  and  the  widely 
extended  commercial  interests  involved, 
gained  for  the  enterprise  much  of  a 
national  character.  The  public  support 
given  by  the  government  to  its  operations, 
at  home  and  abroad,  helped  also  to  dignify 
it,  and  to  take  away  the  invidious  reputa- 
tion which  would  have  attached  to  a  proj- 
ect having  no  higher  aim  than  mere 
private  gain.  Following  up  this  system 
of  encouragement,  the  affair  obtained  the 
confidence  and  co-operation  of  all  classes, 
and  its  consummation  was  looked  forward 
to  as  one  of  the  marked  events  in  Ameri- 
can history. 

On  the  attention  of  foreign  governments 
being  called  to  the  exhibition,  His  Sub- 
lime Highness,  the  Sultan  of  Turkey,  was 
one  of  the  first  to  respond  to  the  appeal, 
by  ordering  a  steam-frigate  to  be  prepared 
for  the  reception  and  transmission  of  those 
splendid  fabrics  of  the  Ottoman  empire — 
richly  carved  cabinet  constructions,  and 
carpets  of  wonderful  elaboration — so  much 
admired  the  world  over.  The  senate  of  the 
United  States,  at  once  appropriated  twenty 
thousand  dollars,  for  the  purpose  of  receiv- 
ing,, in  a  becoming  manner  of  apjn-eciation, 
the  frigate  thus  so  generousl}^  dispatched 
by  his  oriental  majesty.  England  sent 
commissioners,  and  Queen  Victoria,  the 
Emperor  Napoleon,  and  other  sovereigns, 
vied  with  each  other  in  their  personal  con- 
tributions and  in  those  from  their  respect- 
ive countries. 

Great  pains  were  taken  to  obtain  such  a 
plan  for  the  building  as  would  present  the 
highest  architectural  merit,  and  be  as  per- 
fectly adapted  as  possible  to  the  great  object 
in  view.  At  that  time,  the  matter  of  iron 
construction  on  a  large  scale  was  almost 
entirely  new  in  the  United  States,  there 
being  no  edifice  wholly  of  that  material  to 
be  found  in  the  country,  and,  therefore, 
the  want  of  experience  on  the  part  of  both 
architects  and  engineers,  presented  serious 
obstacles.     Many   ingenious   plans,    how- 


602 


OUR  FIRST  CEI^TURY.— 1776-1876. 


ever,  were  offered,  from  the  abridged 
account  of  which,  as  well  as  of  the  build- 
ing itself,  i^repared  by  Mr.  D.  A.  Wells, 
it  appears  that  Sir  Joseph  Paxton,  the 
architect  of  the  London  structure,  fur- 
nished one  of  singular  beauty,  but  the 
peculiar  shape  of  the  ground  to  be  occu- 
pied rendered  it  impossible  to  use  it.  Mr. 
A.  J.  Downing  offered  another,  of  striking 
originality,  but  this  was  also  excluded  by 
the  peremptory  conditions  imposed  by  the 
city,  namely,  that  the  building  should  be 
exclusively  of  iron  and  glass.  Another 
plan,  by  Mr.  Eidlitz,  contemplated  a  sus- 
pension roof,  so  as  to  obviate  the  difficulty 
of  spanning  great  widths  by  arches.  Mr. 
Bogardus  submitted  a  design  for  a  circular 
building,    consisting   of  successive   colon- 


nades, placed  one  over  the  other,  somewhat 
resembling  the  coliseum  at  Rome,  and 
involving  a  new  and  ingenious  method  of 
joining.  A  plan  was  also  proposed,  by 
Mr.  J.  W.  Adams,  consisting  of  a  great 
octagonal  vault  or  dome,  supported  by  ribs 
made  of  fasces  or  clusters  of  gas-pipe. 
The  presentation  of  so  many  plans,  each 
of  a  different  character,  and  some  of  them 
of  great  beauty  and  originality,  made  the 
task  of  selection  very  difficult.  Finally, 
after  much  consultation,  the  j)lan  accepted 
was  that  of  Messrs.  Carstensen  and  Gilde- 
meister,  of  New  York,  the  latter  gentle- 
man being  recently  from  Copenhagen, 
where  he  was  well-known  as  the  designer 
of  some  of  the  principal  public  works  in 


that  city.  After  the  final  adoption  of  a 
plan,  which  was  in  August,  1852,  no  time 
was  lost  in  putting  the  work  under  way. 
The  piece  of  ground  for  the  erection  of  the 
building,  in  Reservoir  Square,  granted  by 
the  citj',  was  somewhat  unfavorable  for 
architectural  purposes ;  but  in  other  re- 
spects it  was  quite  favorable,  and  the 
structure,  when  completed,  was  a  magnifi- 
cent spectacle,  its  main  features  being  as 
follows : 

With   the    exception    of   the  floor,  the 
whole  of  this   sjilendid   palace    was   con- 
structed of  iron  and  glass.     The  general 
idea  of  the  edifice  was  a  Greek  cross,  sur- 
mounted by  a  dome   at   the    intersection, 
each    diameter    of   the    cross  being   three 
hundred  and  sixty-five  ftet  and  five  inches 
long.     There  were  three  similiir  entrances, 
each  forty-seven  feet  wide,  and  approached 
by  flights  of  steps.     Over  each  front  was 
a  large    semi-circular   fan-light,   forty-one 
feet  wide  and   twentj^-one  feet  high,  an- 
swering to   the   arch  of  the   nave.     Each 
arm  of  the  cross  was  on  the  ground  plan 
one    hundred    and    forty-nine    feet  broad. 
This  was  divided  into  a  central  nave  and 
two  aisles,  on  each  side,  the  nave  forty-one, 
and  each  aisle  fiftj'-four  feet  wide.     The 
central  portion,  or  nave,  was  carried  up  to 
the   height  of   sixty-seven   feet,    and  the 
semi-circular  arch  which  spanned  it  was 
fort^^-one  feet  broad.     There  were  thus,  in 
effect,    two    arched   naves    crossing    eacl\ 
other  at  right  angles,  fort^'-one  feet  bi'oad, 
sixty-seven  feet  high  to  the  crown  of  the 
arch,  and  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  feel 
long ;  and,  on  each  side  of  these  naves,  an 
aisle    fifty-four    feet    broad  and  fortj'-five 
feet  high.     The  exterior  of  the  ridgeway 
of  the  nave  was  seventy-one  feet.     Each 
aisle  was  covered  by  a  gallery  of  its  own 
width,  and  twenty-four  feet  from  the  floor. 
The  central  dome  was  one  hundred  feet  in 
diameter,   sixty-eight  feet  inside  from  the 
floor  to  the  spring  of  the  arch,  one  hun- 
dred and  eighteen  feet  to  the  crown,  and, 
on  the  outside,  with  the  lantern,  one  hun- 
dred   and    forty-nine  feet.      The  exterior 
angles  of  the  building    were    ingeniously 
filled  up  with  a  triangular  lean-to,  twenty- 


GREAT  AND  IMEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


603 


four  feet  high,  which  gave  the  ground  phm 
an  octagonal  shape,  each  side  or  face  being 
one  liundred  and  forty-nine  feet  wide.  At 
eadi  angUi  was  an  octagonal  tower,  eight 
feet  in  diameter  and  seventy-five  feet 
high. 

Ten  large,  and  eight  winding  staircases, 
connected  the  principal  floor  with  the  gal- 
lery, which  opened  on  the  three  balconies 
situated  over  the  entrance  halls,  affording 
ample  space  for  flower  decorations,  statues, 
vases,  etc.  The  building  contained,  on  the 
ground  floor,  one  hundred  and  eleven 
thousand  square  feet  of  space,  and  in  its 
galleries,  of  fifty-four  feet  width,  sixty-two 
thousand  square  feet  more,  making  a  total 
area  of  one  hundred  and  seventy-three 
thousand  square  feet,  for  the  purposes  of 
exhibition;  being  a  total,  within  an  incon- 
siderable fraction,  of  four  acres. 

There  were  on  the  ground  floor  of  this 
w'onderful  structure,  one  hundred  and 
ninety  octagonal  cast-iron  columns,  twenty- 
one  feet  above  the  floor,  and  eight  inches 
diameter,  cast  hollow,  of  different  thick- 
nesses, from  half  an  inch  to  one  inch. 
These  columns  received  the  cast-iron  gird- 
ers, the  latter  being  twentj'-six  feet  long 
and  three  feet  high,  and  served  to  sustain 
the  galleries  and  the  wrought-iron  con- 
struction of  the  roof,  as  well  as  to  brace 
the  whole  structure  in  every  direction. 
The  girders,  as  well  as  the  second-story 
columns,  were  fastened  to  the  columns  in 
the  first  stor^^,  by  connecting  pieces  of  the 
same  octagonal  shape  as  the  columns,  three 
feet  four  inches  high.  The  number  of 
lower  floor  girders  was  two  hundred  and 
fifty-two,  besides  twelve  wrought  -  iron 
girders  of  the  same  height,  and  forty-one 
feet  span  over  a  part  of  the  nave.  The 
second  story  contained  one  hundred  and 
forty-eight  columns,  of  the  same  shape  as 
those  below,  and  seventeen  feet  seven 
inches  high.  These  received  another  tier 
of  girders,  numbering  one  hundred  and 
sixty,  for  the  support  of  the  roofs  of  the 
aisles. 

The  dome,  noble  and  beautiful  in  its 
proportions,  constituted  the  chief  architect- 
ural feature  of  the  building.     Its  diame- 


ter, one  hundred  feet,  and  its  height — 
nearly  seventy  feet  to  the  springing  line, 
and  one  hundred  and  twenty-three  to  the 
crown  of  the  arch — made  it  the  largest, 
and,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  the  only 
scientifically  constructed  dome  in  the 
United  States  ;  a  dome  of  oriental  charac- 
teristics, in  its  light  and  graceful  beauty, 
— seemingly  borne  in  iipon  a  zephyr,  and 
capable  of  being  lifted  away  by  a  breath, 
— floating  over  the  whole  structure,  pure 
and  fascinating,  like  an  aerial  grace. 

Twenty- four  columns  supported  the 
dome,  the  columns  rising  to  the  second 
story,  and  to  a  height  of  sixty-two  feet 
above  the  principal  floor.  The  s3-stem  of 
wrought-iron  trusses  which  connected  them 
together,  and  was  supported  by  them, 
formed  two  eccentric  polygons,  each  of 
sixteen  sides;  these  received  a  cast-iron 
bed-plate,  to  which  the  cast-iron  shoes  for 
the  ribs  of  the  dome  were  bolted,  the  latter 
being  constructed  of  two  curves  of  double 
angle-iron,  securely  connected  together  by 
trellis-work,  the  requisite  steadiness  being 
secured  by  tie-rods,  which  braced  them 
both  vertically  and  horizontally.  At  the 
top,  the  ribs  were  bolted  to  a  horizontal 
ring  of  wrought  and  cast  iron,  having  a 
diameter  of  twenty  feet  in  clear,  and  sur- 
mounted by  the  lantern.  As  in  the  other 
roofs  of  the  building,  the  dome  was  cased 
with  matched  deal  and  tin  sheathing,  light 
being  communicated  to  the  interior 
through  the  lantern,  and  also  in  part  from 
the  sides,  pierced  for  thirty-two  orna- 
mental windows,  these  being  glazed  with 
stained  glass  one-eighth  of  an  in<di  thick, 
and  representing  the  arms  of  the  Union 
and  of  its  several  States, — a  feature  which 
formed  no  inconsiderable  part  of  the  inte- 
rior decoration,  and  won  the  admiration  of 
every  beholder,  foreign  as  well  as  Ameri- 
can. 

The  enamel,  with  which  the  whole  of  the 
glass  used  in  the  structure  was  covered, 
was  laid  upon  the  glass  with  a  brush,  and, 
after  drying,  subjected  to  the  intense  heat 
of  a  kiln,  by  Avhich  the  coating  became  vit- 
rified, and  as  durable  as  the  glass  itself ; 
the  effect  produced  being  similar  to  that 


604 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


of  ground  glass,  translucent  but  not  trans- 
parent, the  sun's  rays,  diffused  by  passing 
through  it,  yielding  an  agreeable  light, — 
deprived  of  that  intensity  of  heat  and 
glare  which  is  so  peculiar  to  them  in  this 
climate.     In  the  absence  of  a  similar  pre- 


caution  in  the  London  crj'stal  palace, 
whose  roofs,  as  well  as  walls,  were  inclosed 
with  transparent  glass,  it  was  found  nec- 
essary to  cover  the  interior  of  the  building 
with  canvas,  to  produce  the  required 
shade.     The   external    walls  of  the  New 


York  building  were  of  cast-iron  framing 
and  panel-work,  into  which  were  inserted 
the  sashes  of  the  windows  aiid  the  louvers 
for  ventilation. 

But  the  rapid  and  unexpected  increase 
of  applications  for  space  by  exhibitors,  led 
to  the  erection  of  a  large  addition  to  the 
structure  thus  described.  It  consisted 
of  two  parts,  of  one  and  two  stories  re- 
spectively, and  occujiied  the  entire 
ground  between  the  main  building  and 
the  reservoir ;  its  length,  four  hundred 
and  fifty-one  feet,  and  its  extreme  width 
seventy-five  feet.  It  was  designed  for 
the  reception  of  machinery  in  motion, 
the  cabinets  of  mining  and  mineralogy, 
and  the  refreshment  rooms,  with  their 
necessar}'  offices.  The  second  story, 
nearly  four  hundred  and  fift}'  feet  long 
and  twenty-one  wide,  and  extending  the 
whole  length,  was  entirely  devoted  to 
the  exhibition  of  pictures  and  statuary. 
In  the  work  of  decorating  the  build- 
ing, the  leading  idea  was  to  bring  out  to 
advantage  the  beautiful  architectural 
character  of  the  edifice  itself — to  decor- 
ate construction,  rather  than  to  con- 
struct decoration.  The  result  proved 
surprisingly  attractive.  The  colors  em- 
ployed on  the  exterior  were  mixed  in 
oil,  the  base  being  white  lead.  The 
outside  presented  the  appearance  of  a 
building  of  a  light-colored  bronze,  of 
which  all  features  j^urely  ornamental 
were  of  gold.  The  inside  had  a  prevail- 
ing tone  of  buff,  or  rich  cream  color, 
which  was  given  to  all  the  cast-iron 
constructive  work.  This  color  was  re- 
lieved by  a  moderate  and  judicious  use 
of  the  three  positive  colors,  red,  blue, 
and  yellow,  in  their  several  tints  of  ver- 
milion, garnet,  sky-blue,  and  orange — 
certain  parts  of  the  ornamental  work 
being  gilt — to  accord  with  the  arrange- 
ment of  colors  employed  in  the  decora- 
tion of  the  ceilings.  The  only  exceptions 
to  the  use  of  oil  colors  were  the  ceiling  of 
the  lean-to  and  the  dome,  these  being  exe- 
cuted on  canvas. 

Tlie  effect   of  the  interior  of  the  dome 
was  particularly  splendid.     The  rays  from 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


605 


a  golclon  sun,  at  the  center,  descended 
between  the  latticed  ribs,  and  arabesques 
of  wliite  and  blue,  relieved  by  stars,  sur- 
rounded the  openings,  the  effect  of  the 
whole  being  vory  fine.  This  splendid 
appearance  by  day  was  even  excelled  by  the 
gorgeous  illumination  of  the  structure  at 
night,  produced  by  countless  gas-burners. 

In  the  construction  of  this  vast  and 
splendid  palace  of  industry,  the  Avhole 
quantity  of  iron  employed  amounted  to 
one  thousand  eight  hundred  tons,  of  which 
three  hundred  tons  Avere  Avrought  and 
fifteen  hundred  tons  cast  iron ;  the  quan- 
tity of  glass  used,  fifteen  thousand  panes, 
or  fifty-five  thousand  square  feet;  and  the 
quantity  of  wood  amounted  to  seven  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  feet,  board  meas- 
ure. The  general  mode  of  erection  by 
base  pieces,  columns,  connecting  pieces 
and  girders,  was  the  same  with  that  of  the 
great  London  palace  ;  but  the  construction 
of  the  arched  nave,  and  of  the  dome,  was  of 
course  entirely  peculiar,  and  the  general 
effect  of  the  structure  completely  different. 
The  London  building  was  regarded  as  defi- 
cient in  architectural  effect.  The  form  of 
the  New  York  edifice  furnished  scope  for 
a  pleasing  variety  of  embellishments,  by 
which  all  monotony  was  avoided. 

Exclusive  of  the  naves,  the  total  amount 
of  space  on  the  floor,  occupied  by  different 
countries  for  exhibition,  AA^as  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty-two  thousand  square  feet, 
of  AA'hich  a  little  more  than  ninety-four 
thousand  Avas  on  the  ground  floor.  The 
total  amount  of  space  occupied  by  foreign 
exhibitors  was  nearly  one  hundred  thou- 
sand square  feet ;  and  the  total  number  of 
this  class  of  exhibitors  Avas  nearly  three 
thousand.  In  the  United  States  depart- 
ment, the  number  of  exhibitors  was  not 
far  from  two  thousand,  the  largest  propor- 
tion of  AA'hom  Avere  included  under  the  fol- 
lowing classes :  mineralogy,  metallurgy, 
and  mining  ;  machinery  and  tools ;  agri- 
cultural implements  ;  hardware  ;  and  the 
fine  arts. 

The  details  of  the  exhibition,  with  the 
collecting  and  arranging  of  the  A-nrious 
departments,  was  intrusted  to  the  foUoAA'- 


ing  gentlemen :  General  superintendents. 
Captains  Dujjont  and  Davis  ;  arrangement 
of  space  and  classification,  Samuel  Web- 
ber: department  of  mineralogy' and  chem- 
istry. Professor  B.  Sill i man,  Jr.  ;  director 
of  machinery,  J.  E.  Holmes ;  director  of 
agricultural  implements,  B.  P.  Johnson ; 
director  of  sculpture,  Felix  Piatti ;  director 
of  textile  fabrics,  Edward  Vincent ; — these 
having  the  co-operation  of  a  large  corps  of 
assistants,  exjierienced  in  the  A'arious  spe- 
cialties named. 

It  Avas  the  intention  of  the  officers  of 
the  association,  that  the  building  should 
be  finished  and  the  exhibition  opened  to 
the  public  by  the  first  day  of  May,  1853. 
But  many  unlooked-for  delays  interA'ened, 
and  the  opening  Avas  necessarily  deferred 
until  the  fourteenth  of  July,  on  Avhich  day 
the  palace  was  formally  inaugurated  Avitli 
appropriate  ser\'ices.  On  a  platform  Avere 
assembled  the  officers  of  the  association, 
and  many  of  the  distinguished  men  of 
Europe  and  America,  including  His  Excel- 
lency, Hon.  Franklin  Pierce,  president  of 
the  United  States,  and  members  of  his  cab- 
inet. The  devotional  exercises,  on  open- 
ing the  exhibition,  Avere  led  by  Bishop 
Wainwright ;  and  then  a  choral,  written 
for  the  occasion,  and  commencing  Avith  the 
line,  "  Here,  where  all  climes  their  offer- 
ings send,"  was  sung  to  the  tune  of  Old 
Hundred.  Mr.  SedgAvick,  the  president 
of  the  association,  then  pronounced  an 
address,  stating  the  objects  and  prospects 
of  the  exhibition,  and  Avas  followed  by  the 
president  of  the  United  States,  in  a  brief 
and  appropriate  congratulatory  speech,  in 
which  he  bespoke  for  the  great  national 
enterprise  the  cordial  patronage  of  all 
classes  and  sections,  and  characterized  it 
as  an  CA^ent  fitly  reflecting  the  progress, 
power,  and  glory  of  the  republic.  After 
this,  the  organ  poured  through  the  aisles 
the  sublime  music  of  Handel's  "  Hallelu- 
jah Chorus,"— and  the  palace  of  glass,  with 
its  myriad  forms  of  wonder  and  beauty, 
and  its  mighty  lesson  of  ciA'ilization,  was  a 
completed  fact.  The  tide  of  humanity 
that  flowed  into  the  palace,  from  day  to 
day,  was  constant  and  prodigious. 


606 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Such  a  :Ttagnificent  displaj'  of  tlie  prod- 
ucts of  human  ingenuity  and  skill  had 
never  before  been  witnessed  in  the  west- 
ern world.  Kot  only  did  America  present 
its  choicest  elaborations  of  industrj',  in 
almost  infinite  variety,  but  climes  and 
countries  to  the  furthermost  quarters  of 
the  globe  were  there  represented  in  count- 
less contributions  of  the  useful  and  the 
beautiful.  England  and  France  made 
vast  and  superb  offerings  to  the  great 
transatlantic  bazaar,  and  their  example 
was  followed  by  the  other  continental 
nations.  Scandinavia,  Norway,  Sweden, 
and  the  German  Zollverein,  poured  forth 
the  selectest  contents  of  their  mines, 
manufactories,  workshops,  and  studios: 
Among  the  former  were  iron  ore,  steel, 
wrought  iron  for  gun-barrels,  stearin  can- 
dles, nickel,  cobalt,  copper,  geological  speci- 
mens, snow-shoes,  reindeer  antlers,  a  musi- 
cal instrument  called  the  psalmodicon, 
wood  carvings  by  Norwegian  peasants, 
and  for  which  they  are  celebrated.  From 
the  Zollverein  States,  there  was  an  attract- 
ive variety  of  objects,  the  most  interesting 
of  which  were  the  works  of  art,  principally 
paintings.  The  first  artists  of  modern 
Germany  contributed  to  this  part  of  the 
collection,  and  in  such  quantity  as  far  sur- 
passed general  expectation.  The  names 
of  eminence  which  appeared  in  this  con- 
nection, were  those  of  Huebner,  Achen- 
bach,  Muller,  Elsasser,  Openheimer,  and 
from  Vienna,  Waldmuller  and  Swobada. 

Conspicuous  also  among  the  foreign 
attractions,  was  the  celebrated  picture  con- 
tributed by  Queen  Victoria,  representing 
the  duke  of  Wellington  presenting  a  birth- 
day gift  to  the  infant  Prince  Arthur,  the 
3'oungest  member  of  the  royal  family. 
This  picture  was  painted  by  AVinterhalter, 
at  the  queen's  express  desire  ;  as  a  work  of 
art  alone  it  secured  great  attention,  and 
wa.s  deservedly  extolled  by  all  lovers  of 
beauty  and  perfection.  But  the  fact  of  its 
being  the  queen's  most  valued  and  pet 
picture,  and  forwarded,  in  her  own  name, 
as  a  tribute  of  recognition  to  America's 
great  exhibition,  heightened  the  interest 
with  which  it  was  viewed. 


The  splendid  colossal  group  of  Christ 
and  his  apostles,  by  Thorwaldsen — one  of 
the  masterpieces  of  sculpture — was  the 
theme  of  much  praise,  drawing  crowds  of 
admirers  daily.  The  same  also  may  be 
said  of  that  matchless  piece  of  art,  Kiss's 
"Amazon,"  a  copy  from  the  original  work 
in  bronze,  erected  near  the  museum  in 
Berlin.  Next  to  the  fine  equestrian  statue 
of  Washington,  this  of  the  Amazon  was 
considered  the  boldest  and  most  striking 
piece  of  statuary  exhibited.  But  some  of 
the  most  beautiful  contributions,  in  the 
department  of  fine  arts,  were  to  be  found 
among  those  which,  in  point  of  size,  were 
comparatively  diminutive.  The  veiled 
statues,  for  example,  seemed  almost  like 
angelic  creations.  The  cast-iron  statuettes 
from  the  royal  iron  foundry  at  Vienna, 
w^ere  also  beautiful ;  each  stood  on  an  ara- 
besque pedestal,  and  was  about  twelve 
inches  in  height,  of  a  dead  black  color, 
nearly  resembling  ebony,  and  of  the  most 
exquisite  quality  of  casting. 

More  grand  and  impressive  than  any- 
thing else  in  the  Italian  department,  was 
the  statue  of  Columbus,  in  the  purest 
marble,  his  left  hand  resting  upon  a  ter- 
restrial globe,  to  whicli  the  right  pointed. 
This  superb  statue  was  of  life  size,  and 
from  the  chisel  of  Del  Medico,  of  Carrari. 

An  admirable  little  group,  which  riveted 
the  attention  of  every  observer,  was  the 
Cage  of  Cupids,  all  in  marble, — a  bevy  of 
the  little  creatures,  represented  as  tired  of 
their  confinement  and  striving  to  escape ; 
this  happy  and  unique  conception  was 
executed  in  a  style  of  workmanship  that 
may  well  bo  termed  marvelous. 

Most  amusing,  to  old  and  young,  was 
the  plastic  model  of  Gulliver  in  Lilliput, 
made  by  A.  Fleischmann,  in  Sonneberg, 
Saxony.  From  the  opening  to  the  close 
of  the  exhibition,  there  was  a  constant 
crowd  of  visitors  around  this  admirably 
executed  work.  Quite  different  in  char- 
acter and  in  the  kind  of  interest  which  it 
inspired,  was  the  collection  of  ancient 
armor  sent  by  the  English  government 
from  the  tower  of  London,  and  which  com- 
prised   a    helmet    worn    in    Henry    the 


GREAT  AND  IHEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


607 


Eiglith's  time,  or  about  the  year  1520;  an 
ancient  sliield  of  tlie  time  of  King  Edward 
IV,  in  1547;  a  helmet  of  tlie  time  of 
Queen  Elizabetli,  about  15G0,  and  a  pike- 
man's  hmce,  eigliteen  feet  long,  of  tlie 
same  period ;  a  heavy  breast-plate,  one- 
quarter  of  an  inch  thick,  bearing  date 
1685 ;  also,  some  very  interesting  speci- 
mens of  ancient  muskets,  one  of  which,  a 
flint  lock  with  a  plug  bayonet,  was  used 
during  the  reign  of  King  James  the  Sec- 
ond, in  1686. 

From  France  came  the  rarest  and  most 
delicate  tapestries  and  porcelains,  includ- 
ing some  of  the  celebrated  Gobelin  carpets, 
sent  expressly  by  the  French  government. 
These  carpets  are  remarkable  for  smooth- 
ness, softness,  and  fineness  of  texture,  as 
well  as  for  their  strength  and  evenness, 
excelling  even  the  Persian  in  these  re- 
spects, and  the  colors  and  designs  are  per- 
fect. Some  of  these  carpets  require  from 
five  to  ten  years  for  their  completion,  and 
at  a  cost  of  ten  thousand  to  thirty  thou- 
sand dollars.  None  are  sold,  being  exclu- 
sively of  government  manufacture  and 
use.  The  largest  ever  made  was  more 
than  one  thousand  three  hundred  feet. 
Among  other  exquisite  pieces  sent  to  the 
exhibition,  was  the  "Subject  taken  from 
the  Chase  and  Still  Life,"  and  pronounced 
to  excel  in  the  softness,  delicacy,  and  bril- 
liancy, with  which  all  the  minute  traits  of 
both  animal  and  vegetable  life  are  rendered 
in  this  wonderful  species  of  manufacture. 

But  no  details  possible  within  the  com- 
pass of  a  few  pages  merely,  would  do  jus- 
tice to  the  vast  and  varied  contents  of  this 


World's  Fair,  with  its  four  acres  of  richly 
teeming  surface,  from  nearly  live  thousand 
contributors;  nor,  indeed,  has  any  attem[)t 
been  here  made  to  describe  those  more 
practical  and  extensive  features  of  the 
exhibition, — those  grand  industries,  cover- 
ing so  wide  and  important  a  range  in  the 
elements  and  activities  of  modern  civiliza- 
tion,— which  constituted  the  chief  scope 
and  lesson  of  the  undertaking.  Of  this 
numerous  class  are  those  ingenious  and 
useful  inventions  pertaining  to  the  various 
processes  of  agriculture,  mines  and  their 
products  ;  machinery  for  constructive,  mo- 
tive, and  manufacturing  jjurjioses;  etc.,  etc. 
For  several  months,  the  palace  was  open 
to  the  public,  according  to  its  original 
pltin,  and  subsequently  it  was  decided  to 
make  the  building  and  its  attractions  per- 
manent, the  occasion  being  celebrated  by 
public  ceremonies  apjiropriate  to  the  event. 
Among  the  speakers  was  Elihu  Burritt, 
who,  in  the  course  of  one  of  the  most  bril- 
liant of  speeches,  said:  "Worthy  of  the 
grandest  circumstances  which  could  be 
thrown  around  a  human  assembly,  worthy 
of  this  occasion  and  a  hundred  like  this,  is 
that  beautiful  idea — the  Coronation  of 
Labor.  Not  American  labor,  not  Brit- 
ish labor,  not  French  labor,  not  the  labor 
of  the  New  World  or  the  Old,  but  the 
labor  of  mankind  as  one  undivided  broth- 
erhood— Labor,  as  the  oldest,  the  noblest, 
prerogative  of  duty  and  humanity."  Most 
unfortunately,  this  beautiful  palace,  so 
wonderful  in  its  construction,  and  such  an 
ornament  to  the  chief  city  of  America,  was 
totally  destroyed  by  fire,  in  October,  1858. 


LXXI. 

LOSS  OF  THE  SPLENDID    COLLINS   STEAMSHIP  APCTIC, 

OF  NEW  YORK,  BY  COLLISION  AVITH  THE  IRON 

STEAMER  VESTA.— 1854. 


Occurrence  of  the  Disaster  in  Mid-Ocean,  at  Noonday,  in  a  Dense  Fog — Sinking  of  the  Noble  Ship 
Stern  Foremost. — Hundreds  pf  Souls  Engulfed  in  a  Watery  Grave — Experiences  Crowded  Into  That 
Awful  Hour — The  Wail  of  Agony  and  Despair  from  tlie  Fated  Throng  —  Her  Non  Arrival,  Piiinful 
Suspense — The  Dreadful  News  at  Last. — Shock  to  the  Public  Mind. — Strong  Build  of  the  Arctic  — 
Prestige  of  the  Collins  Line. — A  Casualty  Undreamed  Of. — Surging  Crowd  in  Wall  Street — Names 
of  Lost  and  Saved  Read. — Hope,  Joy,  Grief,  Anguish. — The  Sad  Tale  on  all  Lips — Captain  Luce  in 
the  Hour  of  Woe  — Manliness  of  His  First  Order. — Ship  Deserte<l  by  the  Crew  — "  Every  Man  for 
Himself." — A  Raft  Constructed,  but  in  Vain — Courage  of  the  Women  — Not  One  of  Their  Sex 
Saved  —Instances  of  Cool  Bravery — An  Engineer's  Heroic  Fidelity — £30,000  for  a  Chance  in  a 
Boat. — Pleasure  Tourists  on  Board. — All  of  Mr.  Collins's  Family  Lost. 


"Thefateof  theohipehallbemine."— Cattain  Luce,  Commander  of  the  Arctic. 


(EAVIXG  Liverpool,  England,  on  the  twentieth  of  September,  1854, 
the  magnificent  steamer  Arctic,  of  the  Collins  line,  plying  between  that  cit}'  and  New 
York,  was,  on  the  seventh  day  out,  at  noon,  while  running  in  a  fog,  totally  engulfed, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


009 


with  hundreds  of  souls,  millions  of  treas- 
ure, and  a  heavy  mail  of  incalculable  value, 
in  consequence  of  collision  with  the  French 
iron  screw-steamer  Vesta.  The  Arctic 
was  commanded  by  Captain  Luce;  the 
Vesta,  by  Captain  Duchesne. 

For  many  a  long  day  after  the  time 
when  this  superb  vessel  was  due  at  New 
York,  the  public  mind  was  in  agonizing 
suspense  as  to  her  fate.  From  the  well- 
known  immense  strength  and  complete 
equipment  of  the  Arctic,  this  was  the  only 
sort  of  casualty  likely  to  be  serious  to  her, 
and  this  does  not  appear  to  have  been 
anticipated  by  even  the  most  sagacious 
sea-faring  man.  In  every  respect,  the 
success  of  the  Collins  line  reflected  the 
highest  honor  upon  American  nautical 
enterprise  and  skill. 

The  news  of  this  lamentable  catastrophe 
carried  deep  and  heart-rending  sorrow  to 
the  homes  of  thousands  both  in  this  coun- 
try and  in  Europe.  On  the  news  reaching 
New  York,  October  14th,  that  city  as- 
sumed the  appearance  of  one  great  funeral. 
The  flags  waved  at  half-mast  throughout 
the  metropolis,  upon  all  the  public  build- 
ings and  hotels,  as  also  upon  the  shipping 
in  the  harbor.  The  office  of  Mr.  E.  K. 
Collins,  the  founder  and  proprietor  of  this 
splendid  line  of  steamships,  was  crowded 
with  anxious  visitors  from  early  in  the 
morning  until  the  place  was  closed  in  the 
afternoon.  All  who  wished  to  hear  of  rel- 
atives or  friends  called  there,  as  the  most 
likely  place  to  learn  the  fate  of  those  for 
whom  they  hoped  even  against  hope.  It 
was  a  sad  gathering  of  grief-stricken  citi- 
zens, among  whom  were  fathers,  brothers, 
and  sons,  tremulously  waiting  for  intelli- 
gence which  would  either  giv^e  the  death- 
blow to  all  hope  itself,  or  give  back  again 
all  the  buoyancy  of  life  by  the  promised 
restoration  of  the  lost.  Often  during  the 
day  was  heard  the  inquiry  put  to  the 
attendants  in  the  counting-room  of  Mr. 
Collins,  'Have  you  any  news  of  ni}'^ 
brother?'  'Do  you  think  my  son  is 
safe  ?  '  *  Have  you  seen  any  of  the  pas- 
sengers who  could  probably  tell  me  of  the 
affair,  and  give  me  intelligence  of  my 
39 


father?'  Many,  too,  with  tears  in  their 
eyes,  grasped  the  hands  of  friends,  and 
the  questions  were  exchanged,  '  Who  of 
3'our  friends  were  on  board?'  and  '  AVho 
of  yours  ?  '  It  seemed  as  if  everybody  had 
either  relations  or  acquaintances  on  board 
the  sad-fated  vessel.  As  each  report  came 
in  of  the  passengers  heard  from  as  safe,  it 
was  a  picture  full  of  interest  to  see  the 
eagerness  with  which  all  turned  their  ears 
to  hear  the  report  read,  and  the  faces 
lighten  up  with  gladness  as  the  wished-for 
name  fell  from  the  lips  of  the  reader. 

Some,  upon  receiving  information  of  a 
rescue  of  the  sujiposed  lost,  were  at  once 
engaged  in  receiving  the  congratulations 
of  those  about  them  ;  others  turned  around 
to  offer  condolence  and  mingle  sympathy 
Avith  the  rest,  for  whom  had  come  no 
happy  tidings  ;  and  others,  again,  rushed 
in  haste  from  the  building  to  circulate  the 
report  among  friends  outside,  or  to  convey 
it  to  mourning  families  at  home.  Wher- 
ever this  intelligence  came,  it  was  like  the 
news  of  a  resurrection  from  the  dead. 
Notwithstanding  in  all  hope  flickered 
dimly,  yet  the  catastrophe  was  so  appall- 
ing, and  the  chances  of  a  rescue  so  few, 
that  each  was  filled  with  the  greatest  fear, 
and  all  were  alike  prepared  for  the  worst, 
though  continually  hoping  for  the  best. 

Not  only  in  the  office  of  the  Ocean  Steam 
Company,  but  in  all  places,  Avere  the  same 
evidences  apparent,  that  some  heavj'  blow 
had  fallen  upon  the  heart,  and,  crushing 
out  what  was  happy  and  peaceful,  had 
placed  the  burden  of  sorrow  there.  At  all 
frequented  corners,  along  the  streets,  at 
store  doors,  in  banking-houses,  groups 
were  assembled,  each  with  the  other  can- 
vassing the  chances  of  safety  for  some 
friend,  or  recapitulating  the  calamitous 
story  of  the  shipwreck.  All  business  in 
Wall  street  was  for  a  time  stopped ;  and 
merchants  and  bankers,  forgetting  the  rise 
of  stocks  and  the  fluctuations  of  trade,  by 
'one  touch  of  nature '  were  brought  together 
as  participants  in  the  general  grief.  The 
Exchange  was  crowded  during  the  day,  but 
the  loss  of  the  Arctic  was  the  sole  en- 
grossing topic. 


610 


OUK  FIEST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


At  the  time  of  the  collision,  Captain 
Luce  was  below,  working  out  the  position 
of  tlie  steamer.  He  immediately  ran  on 
deck  and  saw  the  iron  steamer  under  the 
starboard  bow,  and  passing  astern,  grazing 
and  tearing  the  guards  in  her  progress. 
The  bows  of  the  strange  vessel  seemed  to 
be  literally  cut  or  crushed  off  for  ten  feet, 
and  seeing  that  she  must  probably  sink  in 
ten  minutes,  Captain  Luce  took  a  glance 
at  liis  own  ship,  and  believing  her  to  be 
comparatively  uninjured,  the  boats  were 
cleared  and  the  first  officer  and  six  men 
left  with  a  boat  to  board  the  stranger  and 
ascertain  the  extent  of  her  damage.  The 
engineers  were  immediately  instructed  to 
put  on  the  steam  pumps,  and  the  four  deck 
pumps  were  worked  by  the  passengers  and 
crew.  The  ship  was  at  once  headed  for 
the  land,  and  several  ineffectual  attempts 
were  made  to  stop  the  leak  by  getting  sails 
over  the  bows.  Finding  that  the  leak  was 
gaining  very  fast,  notwithstanding  the 
very  powerful  efforts  made  to  keep  the 
ship  free,  Captain  Luce  resolved  to  get  the 
boats  ready,  and  have  as  many  ladies  and 
children  in  them  as  possible. 

No  sooner,  however,  had  an  attempt 
been  made  to  do  this,  than  the  firemen  and 
others  rushed  into  the  boats  in  spite  of  all 
opposition.  Seeing  this  state  of  tilings, 
tlie  captain  ordered  the  boats  astern  to  be 
kept  in  readiness  until  order  could  be 
restored,  when,  to  his  dismay,  he  saw 
tliem  cut  tlie  rope  in  the  bow,  and  soon 
disappear  astern  in  the  tog.  Another 
boat  was  broken  down  by  persons  rushing 
in  at  the  davits,  and  many  were  precipi- 
tated into  the  sea  and  drowned.  This 
occurred  while  the  captain  had  been  en- 
gaged in  getting  the  starboard  guard-boat 
ready.  He  had  placed  the  second  officer 
in  charge,  when  the  same  scene  was 
enacted  as  with  the  first  boat.  He  then 
gave  orders  to  the  second  officer  to  let  go 
and  tow  after  the  ship,  keeping  near  tlie 
stern,  to  be  ready  to  take  the  women  and 
cliildren  as  soon  as  the  fires  were  out  and 
the  engine  should  stop.  Tlie  quarter-boat 
was  found  broken  down,  but  hanging  l)y 
one  tackle;  a  rush  was  made  for  her  also. 


some  fifteen  getting  in,  and,  cutting  the 
tackle,  were  soon  out  of  sight.  Not  a  sea- 
man was  now  left  on  board,  nor  a  carpen- 
ter,— there  were  no  tools  to  assist  in  buikl- 
ing  a  raft  as  the  only  hope, — and  the  only 
officer  left  was  Mr.  Dorian,  the  third  mate, 
who  worked  nobly  for  the  success  of  all. 

To  form  a  raft,  it  became  necessary  to 
get  the  only  remaining  boat — a  life-boat — 
into  the  water.  This  being  accomplished, 
Mr.  Dorian,  the  chief  officer  of  the  boat, 
taking  care  to  keep  the  oars  on  board  the 
steamer  to  prevent  those  in  the  boat  fi'om 
leaving  the  ship,  proceeded  to  work,  still 
hoping  to  be  able  to  get  the  women  and 
children  on  board  his  boat  at  last.  They 
had  made  considerable  progress  in  collect- 
ing spars,  when  the  alarm  was  given  that 
the  ship  was  sinking,  and  the  boat  was 
shoved  off  without  oars  or  anything  to 
hold  themselves. 

In  cm,  instant  after,  at  aho\it  a  quarter- 
j)ast  jive,  P.  M.,  the  ship  went  down,  car- 
rying every  soul  on  hoard  irith  her. 

Captain  Luce  soon  found  himself  on  the 
surface,  after  a  brief  struggle,  with  his 
fragile  child  in  his  arms;  then  again 
found  himself  impelled  downw-ard  to  a 
great  depth,  and,  before  reaching  the  sur- 
face a  second  time,  had  nearly  perished, 
losing  the  hold  of  his  child  as  he  struggled 
upwards.  On  thus  getting  upon  the  sur- 
face of  the  water,  once  moi-e,  the  most 
awful  and  heart-rending  scene  presented 
itself — over  two  hundred  men,  women,  and 
children  were  struggling  together,  amid 
pieces  of  the  wreck,  calling  upon  each 
other  for  help,  and  imploring  God  to  assist 
them!  Amid  this  struggling  mass  of 
human  beings,  he  discovered  his  child,  and 
was  in  the  act  of  trying  to  save  him,  Avhen 
a  portion  of  the  paddle-box  came  rushing 
up  edgewards,  just  grazing  the  captain's 
head  and  falling  with  its  whole  weight 
upon  the  head  of  the  helpless  child.  Cap- 
tain Luce  then  succeeded  in  getting  on  the 
top  of  the  paddle-box  in  company  with 
eleven  others ;  one,  however,  soon  left  for 
another  piece,  and  others  remained  until 
relieved  by  death.  Those  who  were  left, 
stood  in  water  up  to  their  knees,  the  sea 


GllEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


Gil 


frequoiitly  breaking  over  them;  and  the 
sut't't'i'iiiijf  P'li'ty  were  soon  rechux'J  by  death 
to  Ca[»taiii  Luce  and  one  other,  who,  after 
an  exposure  of  forty-six  hours,  were  rescued 
by  the  ship  Cambria,  Captain  Hussell, 
bound  to  Quebec. 

Mr.  Dorian,  the  energetic  and  faithful 
officer  named  above,  asserted,  in  his  ac- 
count of  the  disaster,  tliat  if  all  the  officers 
and  men  liad  remained  hy  the  sliip,  all,  or 
nearly  all,  of  the  passengers,  would  have 
been  saved ;  that,  with  the  masts,  spars, 
and  the  cutting  off  of  the  hurricane  deck, 
a  raft  could  have  been  formed  capable  of 
carrying  the  whole  of  them.  He  further 
states  that  among  the  passengers  on  board 
the  Arctic  he  never  saw  men  more  coolly 
courageous,  and  that  their  quiet  resigna- 
tion and  implicit  confidence  iu  the  captain 
and  officers  of  the  ship  were  such  as  it  was 
impossible  to  surpass.  A  particular  illus- 
tration of  this,  was  the  fidelity  exhibited 
by  a  young  gentleman  named  Holland, 
of  Washington,  who  was  on  board  the 
steamer  for  the  purpose  of  gaining  instruc- 
tion in  engineering.  He  had  been  deputed 
by  the  captain  to  fire  the  signal  gun — 
when  all  others  had  fled, — and,  amid  the 
melancholy  wail,  he  pursued  his  duty. 
When  all  hope  had  fled,  and  the  vessel 
was  nearly  level  with  the  sea,  Holland  was 
seen  busy  with  the  gun.  His  last  shot 
boomed  out  as  the  Arctic  sank,  and  he 
went  down  with  her — persevering  in  the 
strict  performance  of  his  duty. 

In  the  construction  of  the  raft,  the  two 
foreyard  arms  were  cut  down  and  lashed 
together,  making  the  raft  about  forty  feet 
long  and  three  or  four  feet  wide.  On 
being  finished,  it  was  launched  on  the  lar- 
board side,  and  in  a  few  minutes  after 
there  were  about  seventy  persons  clinging 
to  it,  four  of  whom  were  women.  Several 
other  rafts  were  made,  but  none  of  them 
were  so  large  as  this.  Doors,  barrels,  and, 
in  fact,  everything  that  floated,  came  into 
use.  On  some  of  these  there  were  two 
and  three,  but  the  largest  could  not  sup- 
port more  than  four  or  five. 

How  a  man  feels  during  the  process  of 
drowning  may  be  judged  by  the  statement 


of  Mr.  McCabe,  a  passenger,  who  says : 
I  remained  on  the  vessel  until  she  sank, 
when  1  went  down  with  her.  I  had  been 
employed  a  few  minutes  before  with  two 
others,  one  of  whom  was  called  'T(mii  tin; 
storekeeper,'  in  lashing  some  casks  to- 
gether, when  I  was  driven  away  by  the 
water,  which  rushed  in  with  fearful  impet- 
uosity. Jum[)ing  upon  the  paddle-box,  I 
sj)rang  on  the  saloon  deck,  and  in  an 
instant  was  engulfed  in  tho  surging 
waters,  which  soon  closed  over  our  heads. 
JJowii,  down  we  sank,  with  our  noble  vessel, 
into  the  bosom  of  the  ocean,  and  the  terri- 
ble thought  took  possession  of  my  mind 
that  I  was  drowning.  I  retained  my  con- 
sciousness, however,  all  the  time  I  was 
under  the  water,  and  it  was  with  a  feeling 
of  intense  joy  that  I  found,  after  about 
half  a  minute,  that  I  was  rapidly  rising 
towards  the  surface.  It  was  all  darkness 
before,  but  now  I  could  see  a  dim  light 
above  me,  and  in  a  few  seconds  I  was  on 
the  top  of  the  water,  struggling  for  life. 
Being  a  good  swimmer,  and  having,  be- 
sides, the  support  of  a-1  if e-preserver,  I  suc- 
ceeded in  reaching  a  door,  wdiich  was  float- 
ing a  few  feet  from  where  I  rose.  I  looked 
around  me,  but  there  was  no  trace  of  the 
vessel  except  a  few  loose  timbers  and  the 
rafts  which  were  floating  about,  some  with 
and  others  without  passengers.  Finding 
I  could  not  retain  my  hold  of  the  door  with 
safety,  I  left  it  and  swam  to  a  barrel 
which  lay  a  few  feet  from  me,  and  from 
this  again  I  swam  to  the  large  raft,  to 
which  some  seventy  persons  were  clinging. 
The  sea,  though  not  strong,  was  rough,  and 
the  waves,  as  they  dashed  remorselessly 
over  the  raft,  washed  away  a  portion  of  its 
living  freight.  It  was  an  awful  scene — a 
multitude  of  human  beings,  in  the  midst  of 
the  ocean,  without  the  slightest  hope  of 
assistance,  while  every  minute  one  by  one 
was  dropping  into  a  watery  grave,  from 
sheer  exhaustion.  Those  who  had  life- 
preservers  did  not  sink,  but  floated  with 
their  ghastly  faces  upwards,  reminding 
those  who  still  remained  alive,  of  the  fate 
that  awaited  them.  Of  those  who  dropped 
away,  some  floated  off  and  were   gnawed 


612 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-187G. 


and  eaten  by  fishes,  while  otliers  were 
washed  under  the  raft,  where  their  faces 
could  be  seen  through  the  openings,  as 
they  were  swayed  to  and  fro  by  the  waves. 
The  raft  at  one  time  was  so  crowded  that 
many  had  to  hold  on  by  one  hand.  Very 
few  words  were  spoken  by  any,  and  the 
only  sound  to  be  heard  was  the  splash  of 
the  waters  or  the  heavy  breathing  of  the 
poor  sufferers,  as  they  tried  to  recover 
their  breath,  after  a  wave  had  passed  over 
them.  Nearly  all  were  submerged  to  their 
armpits,  while  a  few  could  with  great  dif- 
ficulty keep  their  heads  above  the  surface. 
The   women   were    the  first  to  go ;  they 


his  pocket,  but  finding  this  impossible,  on 
account  of  being  in  so  cramped  a  position, 
placed  it  between  his  teeth  until  overtaken 
by  a  tremendous  wave,  when  he  lost  his 
hold  upon  it  and  it  was  Avashed  away. 
Another,  Avho  had  on  an  oiled  silk  coat, 
called  on  McCabe,  for  heaven's  sake,  to 
render  assistance,  as  his  strength  was  rap- 
idly failing,  and  he  must  fall  off  if  not 
relieved.  As  he  was  about  four  or  five 
feet  distant,  it  was  difficult  to  reach  him, 
but  after  considerable  exertions  this  was 
done,  McCabe  helping  him  by  the  use  of  a 
knee,  until,  becoming  himself  quite  faint, 
the  hapless  man  was,  by  necessity,  left  to 


l^USS   OF  TJlli  CULL1>S   STEAMSinP  AKCXIC, 

were  unable  to  stand  the  exposure  more 
than  three  or  four  hours.  They  all  fell  off 
the  raft  without  a  word,  except  one  poor 
girl,  who  cried  out  in  intense  agony,  "  Oh, 
viy  2^oor  motlicr  and  sisters  !  " 

At  the  expiration  of  some  eighteen 
hours,  there  were  not  more  than  tliree  or 
four  persons  remaining  upon  it,  including 
McCabe.  One  of  these  gave  to  the  latter 
what  appeared  to  be  a  small  map,  but 
which  the  giver  was  understood  to  say  was 
a  sort  of  title-deed  to  his  property.  In  a 
few  moments  after  thus  transferring  it, 
he,  too,  unloosed  his  hold,  and  was  added 
to  the  number  that  floated  about  the  raft. 
McCabe  endeavored  to  get  the  paper  into 


BV   COLLISION  AT  NOONKAV,  IN  .MID-OCEAN. 

his  fate.  Poor  fellow,  he  promised  if  he 
ever  got  to  New  York  alive,  he  would 
reward  his  deliverer  well.  He  clung  with 
terrible  tenacity  to  life,  but  he,  too, 
dropped  off  in  his  turn. 

McCabe  was  now  the  only  one  left  upon 
the  raft — not  a  solitary  person  being  alive, 
of  all  the  seventy  who,  within  a  few  hours, 
were  his  companions.  The  night  of  the 
second  day  was  about  closing  on  him,  and 
during  the  whole  time  he  had  been  in  the 
water,  he  had  not  eaten  a  particle  of  any- 
thing nor  drank  a  drop.  His  strength 
was  beginning  to  give  way,  and  his  sight 
had  liecome  so  dim  as  to  render  objects 
invisible  a  few  feet  off — even  the  ghastly 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


613 


faces  of  the  dead  tliat  looked  up  from 
under  the  raft  were  hardly  diseeriiible. 
Determined  to  make  one  more  effort  for 
life,  he  raised  him.seif  on  his  knees  upon 
the  raft,  and  through  the  dusk  of  evening 
saw,  or  thought  he  saw,  a  vessel.  At  this, 
his  strength  revived,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments was  heard  the  voice  of  some  one 
approaching  in  a  boat.  And  so  it  proved. 
After  twenty-six  hours  of  exposure,  he  was 
rescued  from  a  watery  grave,  by  a  boat 
manned  by  jNIr.  Dorian,  some  sailors,  and 
C.iptain    Graun,    one    of    the    Arctic  pas- 


sengers. 


A  lucid  description  of  the  whole  scene, 
as  given  by  Captain  Grann,  who  was  below 
at  the  time  of  the  collision,  states  that 
upon  going  on  deck,  the  Vesta  was  on  the 
starboard  quarter  of  the  Arctic,  about  half 
a  cable's  length  off,  with  her  starboard 
bow  completely  stove,  from  stem  to  fore- 
rigging,  to  the  water's  edge.  The  Vesta 
lowered  a  boat,  which  got  under  the  star- 
board Avheel  of  the  Arctic,  and  was 
swamped.  When  I  came  on  deck  (contin- 
ues Captain  Grann,)  they  were  lowering 
away  the  boats.  Both  anchors  were  on 
the  starboard  side  of  the  deck,  and  1  went 
aft  and  asked  Captain  Luce  if  I  should 
remove  the  anchors  to  the  port  side,  as  all 
of  the  ship's  officers  were  aft,  lowering 
away  the  boats  and  rigging  pumps.  He 
gave  orders  so  to  do,  and,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  some  passengers  and  a  few  of  the 
crew,  I  carried  the  same  into  execution.  I 
then  went  on  the  topgallant  forecastle  and 
examined  into  the  state  of  her  bows. 
Could  see  no  evidences  of  her  being  stove, 
excepting  some  bad  chafes,  the  oakum 
hanging  out,  and  a  piece  of  the  iron  boat 
protruding  from  the  planks.  As  soon  as 
I  discovered  this,  I  reported  it  to  Captain 
Luce,  xoldcJi  teas  the  first  known  of  the 
Arctic  having  received  serious  damage. 
He  then  requested  me  to  go  below  and 
ascertain,  if  possible,  where  the  leak  was. 
Went  below  and  broke  cargo — could  hear 
water  rushing  in.  The  carpenter  was 
ordered  below  between  decks  to  stop  the 
leak,  and  commenced  cutting  away  the 
ceiling.     I  went  to   work  with  crew  and 


passengers,  breaking  out  cargo  from  lower 
hold,  but  very  soon  discovered  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  stop  the  leak,  as  the 
water  was  over  the  cargo.  I  then  left  the 
hold  and  went  on  deck,  wliere  I  learnt  that 
the  lower  fires  were  out,  and  from  this  time 
all  order  and  discipline  ceased  on  board. 
The  water  was  up  to  the  lower  deck,  and 
gaining  rapidly,  passengers  and  crew  still 
laboring  at  the  pumps. 

There  were  six  boats  on  board.  The 
first  boat  was  lowered  with  the  chief  mate, 
boatswain,  and  three  men  ;  she  was  low- 
ered to  ascertain  the  condition  of  the  other 
steamer,  and  was  left  behind  on  its  being 
found  that  the  Arctic  was  in  a  sinking 
condition.  Two  of  the  quarter-boats  were 
taken  by  the  second  and  fourth  officers 
and  crew.  Another  boat  was  taken  by  the 
engineers,  and  was  supplied  with  pi'ovis- 
ions,  water,  etc. ;  there  were  only  eight  or 
nine  in  this  boat,  and,  though  it  was  not 
full,  they  would  not  permit  any  one  else 
to  come  on  board — indeed,  it  was  said  that 
revolvers  were  threatened  to  be  used  on 
this  occasion.  The  fourth  quarter-boat 
was  hauled  alongside  by  Captain  Luce, 
the  third  mate,  and  Captain  Grann.  Into 
this  boat,  placed  in  charge  of  one  of  the 
ship's  quartermasters.  Captain  Luce  put  a 
number  of  ladies ;  immediately,  several  of 
the  gentlemen  passengers  made  a  rush  and 
jumped  into  the  boat,  and,  as  it  was  full, 
the  painter  was  cut  and  the  boat  drifted 
astern.  The  sixth  boat  was  on  the  quar- 
ter-deck, and,  a  lot  of  spare  spars  being 
secured  for  making  a  raft,  this  boat  was 
launched,  for  the  purpose  of  aiding  the 
construction — the  oars  being  taken  out  of 
her,  so  that  those  who  got  on  board  should 
not  desert  while  the  lashing  of  the  raft 
was  going  on.  This  latter  work  being 
completed  as  far  as  was  possible,  the  boat, 
which  was  now  full,  was  shoved  off  from 
the  raft,  and,  in  about  ten  minutes  after, 
the  noble  steamer  went  down,  stern  fore- 
most. One  fearful  shriek  tvent  vp  to 
heaven  from  that  agonized  covipavy,  as 
they  were  sivei^t  forivard  against  the 
smoke-stack  ;  and  then  all  was  over. 

At  the  time  of  the  collision,  the  passen- 


G14 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


gers  had  gathered  in  the  cabin,  prepara- 
tory to  luncheon,  and  some  of  them  were 
ensased  in  drawinoj  the  numbers  of  the 
daily  lottery,  the  chances  of  the  same 
being  based  upon  the  number  of  miles  run 
during  the  preceding  twenty-four  hours. 
The  Arctic  was  then  running  at  the  rate 
of  twelve  and  one-half  miles  an  hour,  the 
usual  speed  in  foggy  weather  in  that  lati- 
tude. Two  men  were  on  the  lookout,  sta- 
tioned on  the  forecastle,  and  there  was  all 
the  usual  precaution  against  such  a  calam- 
ity. The  advancing  vessel  was  seen  but  a 
moment  before  she  struck,  but  the  instant 
she  was  discovered  through  the  dense  fog, 
the  order  was  given,  "Hard  starhoard  the 
helm  and  reverse  the  e7if/l)ie."  The  order 
was  as  quickly  obeyed  ;  and,  though  at 
first  there  was  no  realization  of  the  actual 
damage  done,  the  terror  and  confusion 
became  very  great  when  the  extent  of  the 
injury  was  disclosed.  The  conduct  of 
Captain  Luce  was  calm,  manly,  courageous ; 
to  the  last  he  declared,  "  The  fate  of  the 
ship  shall  he  viiiie."  Catherwood,  the 
eminent  artist,  Professor  Reed,  and  Messrs. 
Sandford  and  Benedict,  the  well-known 
jurists,  were  eai-\y  among  the  lost. 

On  its  appearing  that  the  Arctic  was 
inevitably  lost,  the  captain  put  Mrs.  Col- 
lins— wife  of  the  owner  of  the  line — and 
her  children,  with  other  women,  children, 
and  passengers,  into  a  boat  which  was  on 
the  larboard  side  of  the  ship,  near  the 
W'heel-house ;  a  little  biscuit  and  water 
were  provided,  but  they  were  without 
compass,  and  not  a  single  man  able  to 
guide  their  course.  Unfortunately,  at  the 
moment  of  lowering  this  boat,  one  of  the 
pulleys  gave  way,  the  other  remaining 
entangled.  The  boat  was  precipitated 
nearly  perpendicularly,  and  all  who  were 
in  it,  excepting  three  persons,  were  thrown 
into  the  sea  and  lost.  At  such  a  moment, 
a  misfortune  like  this  was  without  a 
remedy. 

The  overhauling  of  the  boat,  now  empty, 
was  achieved  at  last,  and  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  regulate  her  destiny,  by  any  mere 
official  orders.  Passengers  and  sailors, 
without  ceremony,  jumped  into  the  boat, 


which  was  in  a  few  seconds  filled.  M.  de 
Grammont  tried  to  jump,  but  fell  into  the 
sea,  and  would  immediately  have  perished, 
had  it  not  been  for  his  servant,  who,  by  a 
superhuman  effort,  hoisted  him  on  board. 
Dulaquais  (the  servant)  regained  the  boat 
by  means  of  a  rope,  inviting  the  master  to 
follow  his  example,  but  the  boat  had 
already  got  under  yvay.  Dulaquais  made 
a  great  jump,  and  fell  like  an  inert  mass 
into  the  boat.  M.  de  Grammont,  from 
lack  of  strength  to  imitate  him,  was  obliged 
to  allow  the  precious  movnent  to  pass 
unimproved  which  separated  safety  from 
death. 

One  passenger  offered  thirty  thousand 
pounds  sterling,  or  one  hundred  and  fift}^ 
thousand  dollars,  if  the  boats  would  put 
back  to  save  him.  They  turned  to  do  so, 
but  before  they  reached  him  he  sank, 
uttering,  as  he  disappeared,  the  most 
piercing  moan  of  deathly  agony. 

Another  instance  was  that  of  a  man 
who,  just  as  one  of  the  boats  was  shoving 
oft"  from  the  Arctic,  called  piteously  to  a 
friend  in  the  boat,  and,  bidding  him  good- 
bye, requested  him  to  bear  his  love  to  his 
wife  in  Philadelphia,  and  tell  her  he  was 
gone. 

Mr.  Brennan,  one  of  the  engineers,  had 
an  opportunity  to  be  saved  in  the  chief 
engineer's  boat,  but  he  had  charge  of  a 
boy  whom  he  would  not  abandon  ;  both, 
however,  were  sa^'ed  in  another  boat.  An 
unknown  gentleman  threw  a  heavy  jiurse 
of  gold  from  the  ship  to  the  boj',  after  the 
latter  got  into  the  boat. 

The  following  statement,  made  b}'  a 
gentleman  \\ho  was  saved  from  the  wreck, 
exhibits  human  nature  in  one  of  its 
strange  phases,  in  view  of  so  terrible  a 
crisis: — Among  our  passengers  w^as  a  gen- 
tleman about  thirty-five  to  thirty-eight 
years  of  age,  of  very  reserved  manners, 
and  evidently  depressed  spirits.  Being 
located  in  the  same  berth,  I  was  one  day 
accidentally  struck  by  the  significant  fact 
that  his  linen  w-as  marked  with  initials 
differing  from  those  of  the  name  by  which 
he  passed  and  in  which  he  had  shipped. 
A   few   remarks   from   me    induced    him 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


G15 


(under  promise  of  secrecy,  whicli  the  ex- 
tent of  tills  communication  does  not  vio- 
late), to  explain  how  circaunstances  of  a 
distressing  nature  had  induced  his  expa- 
triation. Subsequent  conversations  re- 
vealed to  me  that  blighted  liopes  con- 
strained him  to  regard  his  existence  but 
lightly,  and,  from  his  stolid  indifference 
when  the  encounter  took  place,  it  is  my 
belief  that  he  courted  those  embraces  of 
death  which,  alas !  so  many  have  vainly 
struggled  to  resist. 

Every  account  confirms  the  statement 
that  the  ladies  exhibited  the  most  admira- 
ble coolness,  and  stared  death  in  the  face 
with  a  heroism  which  should  have  put  to 
blush  the  men  who  deserted  and  left  them 
to  their  fate.  At  the  moment  when  one  of 
the  unfortunate  boats  was  disappearing 
from  mortal  view,  a  French  lady,  remarked 
for  her  dark  complexion,  was  seen  to  be 
courageously  using  her  oar.  Not  a  single 
female,  however,  of  whom  there  were  some 
sixty  on  board,  escaped  the  awful  doom, 
though  every  possible  effort  was  made  by 
Captain  Luce  to  have  the  women,  chil- 
dren, and  passengers  first  cared  for.  Thus, 
when  one  of  the  men  attempted  to  leave, 
the  captain  caught  him,  and  tore  the  shirt 
off  the  man's  back  to  prevent  him  from 
going,  exclaiming,  "  Let  the  passengers 
go  in  the  boat."  He  also  seized  a  kind  of 
axe,  and  attempted  to  prevent  the  firemen 
reaching  the  boat;  but  it  was  'everyone 
for  himself,'  and,  finally,  no  more  attention 
was  paid  to  the  captain  than  to  any  other 
man  on  board. 

The  Arctic  was  built  in  New  York,  and 
was  considered  as  staunch  and  splendid  a 
vessel  as  was  ever  constructed ;  her  meas- 
urement was  three  thousand  five  hundred 
tons,  and  the  whole  cost  nearly  a  million 
dollars.  Of  the  more  than  four  hundred 
souls  who  left  Liverpool  in  this  ill-fated 
ship,  full  of  hope,  gayety,  and  health,  only 


about  one-tenth  escaped  a  watery  grave. 
Many  of  these,  including  a  large  number 
of  professional  and  business  nien  of  emi- 
nence, were  returning  from  an  European 
tour  of  pleasure.  The  accident  happened 
within  forty  miles  east  of  Cape  Race,  the 
eastern  extremity  of  Newfoundland,  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Virgin  Rocks. 

After  striking  the  Arctic,  the  Vesta 
appeared  to  be  sinking,  but  immediately 
rose  again ;  but  no  hope  was  entertained 
of  her  ultimate  safety,  the  passengers  and 
crew  looking  upon  the  Arctic  as  their  only 
chance  of  saving  their  lives.  One  man 
was  killed,  and  others  severely  wounded. 
Two  boats  were  put  over  the  side,  the  first 
of  which  was  sunk ;  the  second  was  imme- 
diately boarded  by  some  of  the  crew  and 
passengers,  who,  heedless  of  the  captain's 
order  to  return,  abandoned  the  vessel. 
The  fog  continuing  very  thick,  they  lost 
sight  of  the  Arctic  altogether,  still  hoping, 
however,  that  she  would  not  desert  them. 
Lightening  the  vessel  in  the  fore  part,  her 
bows  were  thereby  considerably  raised, 
thus  greatly  stopj^ing  the  rush  of  water; 
and,  by  other  means  and  contrivances, 
they  were  enabled  to  run,  under  small 
steam,  for  the  nearest  port,  St.  John's, 
where  she  arrived  Sej^tember  30th. 

For  many  days,  as  already  remarked, 
the  terrible  fate  of  the  Arctic,  and  the 
many  melancholy  incidents  connected  with 
it,  made  a  profoundly  painful  sensation  in 
business  circles — everywhere,  indeed.  The 
sympathies  of  the  community  were  espe- 
cially with  Mr.  Collins,  whose  misfortune 
was  a  double  and  overwhelming  one — the 
loss  of  his  beloved  family  and  his  noble 
ship  at  the  same  time.  The  Collins  line 
of  steamers  did  more  to  give  character  and 
prestige  to  the  mercantile  marine  of  Amer- 
ica than  can  readily  be  estimated  ;  and  the 
loss  of  the  Arctic,  therefore,  was  every- 
where regarded  as  a  national  calamity. 


LXXII. 

ASSAULT    ON    THE    HON.    CHARLES    SUMNER,    BY    HO^ 

PRESTON    S.    BROOKS.— 185G. 


Twenty  Sudden  and  Terrible  Blows,  with  a  Solid  Gutta  Percha  Cane,  Dealt  upon  Mr.  Sumner's  Bare 
Head. — He  Stajrgers  and  Falls,  Senseless,  Gashed,  and  Bleeding — Sumner's  Great  Kansas  Speech 
for  Free  Soil  and  Free  Labor. — Speech  by  Senator  Butler,  of  South  Carolina. — Mr.  Sumner's  Scorch- 
ing Reply. — South  Carolinians  Offended. — An  Assault  Determined  On. — Mr  Brooks  their  Champion. 
—Two  Days'  Watch  for  His  Victim. — Finds  Him  Alone  at  His  Desk. — Approaches  Unobserved. — A 
Quick  and  Deadly  Blow.  —  Mr.  Sumner  Instantly  Stunned. —  His  Ineffectual  Defense.  —  Brooks's 
Accomplices  at  Hand. — Their  Advantage  over  Sumner. — Storm  of  Public  Indignation. — Action  Taken 
by  Congress.  —  Reign  of  Terror  at  the  Capital.  —  Mr.  Sumner's  Three  Years'  Illness.  —  Recovery, 
Illustrious  Career. — Death  of  Brooks  and  His  Allies. — Time's  Retributions. 


"  In  the  name  of  the  Constitution,  which  hsB  been  outraged — of  the  Laws  trampled  down— of  JuRtice  banished— of  Humanity  deirraded— 
jr  Peace  deKtmyed— of  Freedom  crushed  to  the  earth;  and  in  the  name  ot  the  Heavenly  Father,  whose  service  is  perfect  Freedom,  i  make 
Ui.8  la»t  appeal."— Senator  Sumner's  Speech,  ••Tue  Crime  Aqainst  Kansas." 


LIBEIITV    von  KANSAS. 


ISTORY  records  but  one  instance  of  a  great 
and  honored  statesman — one  of  tlie  foremost 
men  of  the  age,  in  fact,  in  his  advocacy  of 
human  rights  —  being  struck  down  b}^  tlie 
instruments  of  bloody  A'iolence,  while  in  his 
seat  in  the  senate  chamber  of  his  country's 
capitol,  and  there  lying  prostrate,  bleeding, 
and  insensible,  until  removed  by  friendly 
hands. 

This  barbarous  deed  transpired  at  Washing- 
ton, on  the  twenty-second  of  Ma}',  1856 ;  and 
it  would  be  difficult  to  name  any  other  event, 
up  to  this  period,  which  so  shook  the  country 
to  its  center — culminating,  too,  in  the  brief 
space  of  biit  five  succeeding  years,  in  that  ter- 
rible shock  of  arms,  which  changed  the  desti- 
nies of  the  republic,  and  gave  new  life  and  the 
national  guaranty  to  human  rights. 

On  the  nineteenth  of  May,  the  Hon.  Charles 
Sumner,  United  States  senator  from  Massa- 
chusetts, began  a  speech  in  the  senate,  in  favor 
of  admitting  Kansas  into  the  Union,  under  a 
state  constitution  which  she  had  adopted,  pro- 
hibiting slavery.     The  question  had  for  a  lo!;g 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


017 


time  produced  the  most  intense  political 
excitement  all  over  the  land,  the  south,  as 
the  advocate  of  slave  territory,  and  the 
north,  as  the  defender  of  free  soil  and  free 
labor,  being  bitterly  arrayed  against  each 
other.  Mr.  Sumner  treated  the  subject 
with  his  accustomed  power  of.  argument 
and  rhetoric,  and  at  great  length,  his 
speech  occupying  two  days.  A  portion  of 
it  was  directed  with  remarkable  vigor  and 
sarcasm,  though  entirely  within  parlia- 
mentary bounds,  to  the  arguments  of  the 
Hon.  A.  P.  Butler,  senator  from  South 
Carolina,  delivered  some  days  previously, 
— this  part  of  Mr.  Sumner's  speech  giving 
great  offense  to  the  members  of  congress 
from  that  state. 

On  the  twenty-second,  the  senate  ad- 
journed at  an  early  hour,  in  consequence 
of  the  announcement  of  the  death  of  Hon, 
IMr.  Miller  of  Missouri.  After  the  ad- 
journment, as  is  the  custom  of  some  sena- 
tors, Mr.  Sumuer  remained  at  his  desk, 
and  was  there  writing  unsuspectingly  and 
busily,  when  he  was  approached  by  Pres- 
ton S.  Brooks  and  L.  M.  Keitt,  congress- 
men from  South  Carolina,  each  with  a 
cane.  Brooks  was  a  nephew  of  Senator 
Butler.  Several  persons  had  been  about 
j\[r.  Sumner's  desk  after  the  adjournment, 
but  just  now  he  was  alone.  Senator  Wil- 
son had  left  him  only  a  few  moments 
before,  on  his  way  out  passing  Brooks, 
who  was  sitting  in  a  back  seat.  Brooks 
walked  up  in  front  of  Mr.  Sumner's  seat, 
and,  saluting  him,  made  the  following 
remarks  : 

"  Mr.  Sumner,  I  have  read  your  speech 
carefully,  and  with  as  much  calmness  as  I 
could  be  expected  to  read  such  a  speech. 
You  have  libeled  my  state,  and  slandered 
my  relative,  who  is  aged  and  absent,  and 
I  feel  it  to  be  my  duty  to  punish  you  for 
it." 

Without  waiting  for  any  reply,  or  asking 
for  any  explanation.  Brooks  instantly 
struck  Mr.  Sumner  a  violent  blow  upon 
the  top  of  his  bare  head,  while  the  latter 
was  still  in  a  sitting  posture,  with  a  heavy 
guttapercha  cane.  Brooks  followed  this 
blow  immediately   with  other  blows,  from 


twelve  to  twenty  in  all,  dealing  them  with 
all  the  force  which  his  herculean  size  and 
great  strength  made  him  master  of. 

Mr.  Sumner  had  no  distinct  conscious- 
ness after  the  first  blow.  He  involunta- 
rily strove  to  rise  from  his  seat,  but  being 
confined  by  his  writing  position,  he 
wrenched  his  desk  from  its  iron  fasten- 
ings, in  attempting  to  extricate  himself. 
Stunned  and  blinded,  however,  from  the 
first,  his  efforts  at  self-defense  were  inef- 
fectual, and,  staggering  under  the  fast- 
repeated  blows,  he  fell  senseless  to  the 
floor,  gashed,  bleeding,  and  powerless. 
The  cane  used  was  a  deadly  weapon,  being 
as  hard  as  hickory  or  whalebone  ;  it  was 
one  inch  in  diameter  at  the  larger  end, 
and  tapered  to  the  diameter  of  about  five- 
eighths  of  an  inch  at  the  smaller  end,  and 
so  violently  did  Brooks  deal  his  blows 
upon  tlie  defenseless  senator's  head,  that 
the  deadly  weapon  was  shattered  into 
man}'  pieces  by  the  time  the  assault  ter- 
minated. 

Mr.  Morgan  and  Mr.  Murray,  of  the 
New  York  delegation,  were  in  the  front 
ante-chamber,  and,  hearing  the  noise, 
went  in.  Mr.  INIurray  seized  hold  of 
Brooks,  and  Mr.  Morgan  went  to  the  relief 
of  Mr.  Sumner,  whom  he  found  prostrate 
and  nearly  insensible.  The  persons  pres- 
ent in  the  senate  were  Mr.  Sutton,  one  of 
the  reporters,  the  assistant  sergeant-at- 
arms,  Mr.  Simonton,  Senators  Crittenden, 
Iverson,  Bright,  Toombs,  Pearce,  and  a 
few  others.  No  one  of  the  senators  seemed 
to  offer  to  interfere  but  the  venerable  JMr. 
Crittenden,  who  pronounced  it  an  inexcus- 
able outrage.  Mr.  Wilson  rushed  into  the 
senate-chamber  on  hearing  of  the  attack, 
but  found  Mr.  Sumner  had  been  removed 
to  the  vice-president's  room,  and  that  a 
surgeon  was  in  attendance.  He  then 
helped  to  put  his  colleague  into  a  carriage, 
and  went  with  him  to  his  lodgings.  The 
senator's  condition  was  deplorable.  There 
were  frightful  cuts  on  his  head,  and  his 
clothes  were  literally  covered  with  blood. 
Upon  the  papers  and  documents  covering 
his  desk,  as  well  as  upon  the  adjoining 
desks,    blood    was    also    freely    spattered. 


G18 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


But  for  the  interference  of  Messrs.  Murray 
and  Morgan,  Mr.  Sumner  would,  have  cer- 
tainly been  killed,  under  the  remorseless 
and  unceasing  blows  of  his  assailant ;  the 
former  seized  Brooks  around  the  waist, 
while  he  was  striking  Sumner,  and,  with 
Morgan's  help,  pulled  him  away.  The 
advantage  which  Brooks  had  over  his 
victim  was  complete ;  stunning  him  with 
the  very  first  attack,  he  afterwards  seized 
him  by  the  shoulder,  held  him  with  the 
left  hand,  while,  with  the  other^  he  kept 
laying  deadly  blows  ujjon  his  head. 

It  appears  that  as  early  as  Tuesday, 
before  Mr.  Sumner's  speech  was  concluded. 
Brooks  took  exception  to  the  senator's 
remarks ;  and  that  on  Wednesday  morn- 
ing,  after  the  delivery  of  the  speech,  he 


^.    fi  ^ 


declared  to  Mr.  Edmundson,  a  member  of 
congress  from  Virginia,  by  whom  he  was 
met  in  the  capitol  grounds  a  short  time 
before  the  meeting  of  the  two  houses,  that 
he  had  determined  to  punish  Mr.  Sumner, 
unless  he  made  an  ample  apology  for  tlie 
language  he  had  uttered  in  his  speech ; 
Brooks  expressed  a  desire  that  he,  Ed- 
mundson, should  be  present  and  witness 
the  scene,  and  they  thereupon  took  a  seat 
near  the  walk  leading  from  Pennsylvania 
avenue  to  the  capitol,  where  they  remained 
some  fifteen  minutes,  awaiting  the  ap- 
proach of  Mr.  Sumner,  but,  as  he  did  not 
make  his  appearance,  the  two  proceeded  to 
the  capitol. 


On  Thursday  morning,  Brooks  and  Ed- 
mundson    were     again     together    at    the 
western  entrance  of   the  capitol  grounds, 
on    Pennsylvania   avenue,   a  point  which 
commands  a  view  of  all  the  approaches  to 
the  capitol  from   that  portion  of  the  city 
in    which    Mr.    Sumner    resided.       Here, 
Brooks  talked  with  Edmundson  about  his 
being  on  the  lookout  for  Mr.  Sumner,  and 
his  determination  to  resent  the  language 
of   the   speech.      They   failed   to  see   Mr. 
Sumner,  and  went  to  the  capitol  together. 
In  addition  to  Edmundson,  Mr.  Keitt  had 
also  been  informed  of  Brooks's  purpose  to 
make  the  assault — indeed,  was  one  of  the 
chief  planners  of  the  whole  thing.     Keitt 
was  near  b}^,  when  Brooks  commenced  the 
attack,  and  Edmundson  took  a  position  in 
an  ante-room  adjoining  ;  and,  as  soon  as 
an  attempt  was  made  b}^  the  bystanders 
to  protect  Mr.  Sumner,  KcflU  rushed  up 
with  a  cane  in  a  threatening  manner, 
Edmundson   also    entering  the   chamber 
soon  after  Mr.  Sumner  fell.     It  thus  ap- 
peared that  the  murderous   assault  was 
premeditated  during  a  period  of  at  least 
two  days,  and  that  the  only  provocation 
consisted  in  Mr.   Sumner's  response   to 
Mr.   Butler's    coarse    aspersions    uttered 
some  days  before, — Mr.  Sumner's  words 
being  lawfullj'^  spoken  in  debate   in  the 
senate  chamber,  not  once  being  ruled  otit 
of  order  by  the  presiding  officer,  nor  ob- 
jected to  by  any  senator  as  in  any  way 
violative  of  the  parliamentary  rules  estab- 
lished for  the  government  and  order  of  that 
body. 

On  the  ensuing  da}',  the  outrage  was 
brought  to  the  attention  of  the  senate,  by 
Mr.  Wilson,  who  said :  "  The  seat  of  my 
colleague  is  vacant  to-da}'.  For  the  first 
time  after  five  years  of  public  service,  that 
seat  is  vacant.  Yesterday,  after  the 
touching  tribute  of  respect  to  the  memory 
of  Mr.  Miller,  of  Missouri,  a  deceased 
member  of  the  house  of  representatives, 
the  senate  adjourned.  My  colleague  re- 
mained in  his  seat,  engaged  in  public 
duties.  While  thus  engaged,  with  pen  in 
hand,  and  in  a  position  which  rendered 
him    utterly    incapable    of    protection,    or 


GRKAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


tJlU 


defending  himself,  Mr.  Preston  S.  Broolvs, 
a  member  of  the  house  from  Soutli  Ciuo- 
lina,  approached  liim  unobserved,  and  ab- 
ruptly addressed  him.  Looking  up,  and 
before  he  had  time  to  utter  a  single  word 
in  reply  to  him,  he  received  a  stunning 
blow  on  the  head  from  the  cane  in  the 
hands  of  ^Ir.  Brooks,  which  made  him 
almost  senseless  and  unconscious  ;  endeav- 
oring, however,  to  protect  himself,  in 
rising  from  his  chair,  his  desk  was  over- 
thrown; find  while  in  that  powerless  con- 
dition, he  was  beaten  upon  the  head  and 
shoulders  by  repeated  blows  from  Mr. 
Brooks,  until  he  sank  upon  the  floor  of  the 
senate,  unconscious,  exhausted,  and  covered 
with  his  own  blood.  He  was  raised  from 
the  floor  by  a  few  friends,  taken  into  an 
ante-room,  and  his  wounds  dressed.  From 
thence  he  was  carried  to  his  house,  and 
placed  upon  his  bed.  He  is  thus  unable 
to  be  with  us  to  day,  to  perform  the  duties 
which  belong  to  him  as  a  member  of  this 
body.  To  hold  a  member  of  the  senate 
responsible  out  of  this  chamber  for  words 
spoken  in  debate  is  a  grave  offense,  not 
onl^'^  against  the  rights  of  a  member,  but 
against  the  constitutional  privileges  of  this 
body;  but,  sir,  to  come  into  this  chamber, 
and  assault  a  member  in  his  seat,  until  he 
falls  exhausted  upon  this  floor,  is  an 
offense  requiring  the  prompt  action  of  this 
body.  Sir,  I  submit  no  motion, — I  leave 
it  to  older  senators,  whose  character  and 
position  in  the  senate,  and  before  the 
country-,  eminently  fit  them  to  take  the 
lead  in  a  measure  to  redress  the  wrongs  of 
members  of  this  body,  and  vindicate  the 
lionor  and  dignity  of  the  senate."  A  com- 
mittee of  investigation  was  appointed. 

In  the  house  of  representatives,  also,  the 
outrage  was  the  subject  of  legislative 
action,  after  an  exciting  debate,  in  which 
Mr.  Burlingame  of  Massachusetts,  thus 
gave  expression,  in  the  course  of  a  manly 
and  truthful  speech,  to  the  sentiments  of 
every  noble-minded  citizen  in  the  land: 
"On  the  22d  daj'-  of  May,  when  the  senate 
and  the  house  had  clothed  themselves  in 
mourning  for  a  brother  fallen  in  the  battle 
of  life  in  the  distant  state  of  Missouri,  the 


senator  from  Massachusetts  sat,  in  the 
silence  of  the  senate  chamber,  engaged  in 
employments  fipj)ertaining  to  his  office, 
when  a  member  from  this  house,  who  had 
taken  an  oath  to  sustain  the  constitution, 
stole  into  the  senate — that  place  which  had 
hitherto  been  held  sacred  against  violence 
— and    smote    him     as    Cain     smote    his 

brother One  blow  was  enough  ; 

but  it  did  not  satiate  the  wrath  of  that 
spirit  which  had  pursued  him  through  two 
days.  Again,  and  again,  and  again, 
quicker  and  faster,  fell  the  leaden  blows, 
until  he  was  torn  away  from  his  victim, 
when  the  senator  from  Massachusetts  fell 
into  the  arms  of  his  friends,  and  his  blood 
ran  down  the  senate  floor.  Sir,  the  act 
was  brief,  and  my  comments  on  it  shall  be 
brief  also.  I  denounce  it  in  the  name  of 
the  sovereignty  of  Massachusetts,  which 
was  stricken  down  by  the  blow;  I  de- 
nounce it  in  the  name  of  humanity;  I 
denounce  it  in  the  name  of  civilization, 
which  it  outraged  !  I  denounce  it  in  the 
name  of  that  fair  play  whii  h  bullies  and 
prize-fighters  respect.  What !  strike  a 
man  when  he  is  pinioned — when  he  cannot 
respond  to  a  blow!  Call  3'ou  that  chiv- 
alry ?  In  what  code  of  lionor  did  you  get 
your  authority  for  that !  "  Similar  legis- 
lative action  to  that  of  the  senate  was 
adopted,  on  motion  of  Mr.  Campbell,  for 
inquiring  into  the  circumstances  of  so 
brutal,  murderous,  and  cowardly  an  as- 
sault. 

Being  Avaited  on,  some  days  after  the 
assault,  by  the  committee  of  investigation, 
Mr.  Sumner,  who  was  confined  in  great 
suffering  to  his  bed,  gave  the  following 
testimony:  "I  attended  the  senate  as 
usual,  on  Thursda^^,  the  22d  of  Ma}-. 
After  some  formal  business,  a  message  was 
received  from  the  house  of  representatives, 
announcing  tlie  death  of  a  member  of  that 
body  from  Missouri.  This  was  followed 
by  a  brief  tribute  to  the  deceased  from 
Mr.  Geyer,  of  Missouri,  when,  according 
to  usage  and  out  of  respect  to  the  deceased, 
the  senate  adjourned  at  once.  Instead  of 
leaving  the  senate-chamber  with  the  rest 
of  the  senators,  on  the  adjournment,  I  con- 


620 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


tinned  in  my  seat,  occupied  with  my  pen, 
and  while  thus  intent,  in  order  to  be  in 
season  for  the  mail,  which  was  soon  to 
close,  I  was  approached  by  several  persons, 
wlio  desired  to  converse  with  me,  but  I 
answered  them  promptly  and  briefly,  ex- 
cusing myself  for  the  reason  that  I  was 
engaged.  Wlien  the  last  of  these  persons 
left  me,  I  drew  my  arm-chair  close  to  my 
desk,  and,  with  my  legs  under  the  desk, 
continued  writing.  Mv  attention  at  this 
time  was  so  entirely  drawn  fi"om  other 
subjects  that,  though  there  must  have 
been  many  persons  in  the  senate,  I  saw 
nobody.  While  thus  intent,  with  my 
head  l)ent  over  my  writing,  I  was  ad- 
dressed    !»y    a     jierson    who    approached 


the  front  of  my  desk :  I  was  so  entirely 
absorbed,  that  I  was  not  aware  of  his 
presence  until  I  heard  my  name  pro- 
nounced. As  I  looked  up,  with  pen  in 
hand,  I  saw  a  tall  man,  whose  countenance 
was  not  familiar,  standing  directly  over 
me,  and  at  the  same  moment  caught  these 
words :  '  I  have  read  your  speech  twice 
over,  carefully;  it  is  a  libel  on  South  Car- 
olina, and  Mr.  Butler,  who  is  a  relative  of 
mine.'  While  these  words  were  still  i)ass- 
ing  from  his  lips,  he  commenced  a  succes- 
sion of  blows  with  a  heavy  cane  on  my 
bare  head,  by  the  first  of  which  I  was 
stunned  so  as  to  lose  my  sight.  I  saw  no 
longer  my  assailant,  nor  any  other  person 
or  object  in  the  room.      What  I  did  aftei-- 


wards    w^as    done    almost    unconsciously, 
acting  under  the  instincts  of  self-defense. 
Witli  head  already  bent  down,  I  rose  from 
my  seat — wrenching  up   my  desk,  which 
was  screwed  to  the  floor — and  then  press- 
ing forward,  while  my  assailant  continued 
his  blows.      I  had  no  other  consciousness 
until  I  found  myself  ten  feet  forward  in 
front  of  my  desk,  lying  on  the  floor  of  the 
senate,  with  my  bleeding  head  supported 
on  the  knee  of  a  gentleman  whom  I  soon 
recognized,  ly  voice  and  manner,  as  Mr, 
Morgan,    of   New   York.      Other  persons 
there  were  about  me,  offering  me  friendly 
assistance,  but  I  did  not  recognize  any  of 
them.     Others   there   were  at  a  distance, 
looking  on  and  offering  no  assistance,  of 
whom  I  recognized  only  Mr.  Douglas,  of 
Illinois,   Mr.  Toombs,  of  Georgia,  and  I 
thought    also    my   assailant    standing  be- 
tween them.     I  was  helped  from  the  floor, 
and  conducted  into  the  lobby  of  the  senate, 
where  I  was  placed  upon  a  sofa.     Of  those 
who  helped  me  here  I  have  no  recollection. 
As  I  entered  the  lobby,  I  recognized  Mr. 
Slidell,  of  Louisiana,  Avho  retreated,  but  I 
recognized    no    one    else    until    I   felt    a 
friendly  grasp  of  the  hand,  which  seemed 
to  come  from  Mr.   Campbell,  of  Ohio.     I 
have  a  vague  impression  that  Mr.  Bright, 
j)resi*dent  of  the  senate,  spoke  to  me  while 
I  was  on  the  floor  of  the  lobby.     I  make 
this  statement  in  answer  to  the  interroga- 
tory of  the  committee,  and  offer  it  as  pre- 
senting completely  all  my  recollections  of 
the  assault  and  of  the  attending  circum- 
stances,   whether    immediately    before    or 
immediately  after.     I  desire  to  add,  that 
besides  the  words  which  I  have  given  as 
uttered  by  my  assailant,  I  have  an  indis- 
tinct recollection  of  the  words  'old  man  ;' 
but  these  are  so  enveloped  in  the  mist  that 
ensued  from  the  first  blow,  that  I  am  not 
sure  whether  they  were  uttered  or  not." 
On    the   cross-examination,    IVIr.    Sumner 
stated  that  he  was  entirely  without  arms 
of  any  kind,  and  that  he  had  no  notice  or 
warning  of  any  kind,  direct  or  indirect,  of 
any  such  assault.     In  answer,  also,  to  a 
cross-question,   Mr.    Sumner  replied   that 
what   he   luid   said  of  Senator  Butler,  of 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


621 


South  Carolina,  was  strictly  responsive  to 
Mr.  Butler's  speeches,  and.  according  to 
the  usages  of  parliamentary  debate. 

The  dastardly  blow  which  stunned  Sen- 
ator Sumner,  also  stunned,  for  the  moment, 
the  great  north  and  west,  from  Maine  to 
Nebraska  —  but  only  to  arouse  them,  as 
they  had  never  been  aroused  before,  to  a 
realization  of  the  true  character  of  the 
conflict  which  was  being  waged  fi'om  one 
end  of  the  land  to  the  other,  and  to  make 
them  more  determined  than  ever,  in  be- 
half of  free  soil,  free  labor,  and  free 
speech.  Indignation  meetings,  composed 
of  the  solid  worth  and  intelligence  of  the 
population  throughout  the  free  states,  were 
immediately  held,  to  protest  against  so 
cowardly  and  murderous  an  attempt  to  su^h 
press  the  freedom  of  debate.  In  every  city 
and  town,  the  masses  poured  forth,  to  dem- 
onstrate their  reprobation  of  so  brutal  and 
atrocious  a  wrong,  and  to  express  sympa- 
th}'^  for  Senator  Sumner,  in  view  of  the 
anguish  and  peril  of  his  condition.  In 
Massachusetts,  in  especial,  the  outrage 
upon  their  great  and  honored  senator  pro- 
duced such  an  outburst  of  universal  indig- 
nation as  was  never  known  before.  And  in 
addition  to  this,  the  riches  of  the  Avealthy 
wei'e  freel}'  proffered  him,  to  defray  the 
expenses  incident  to  his  disability;  and, 
in  Boston,  a  memorial  token  in  appro- 
bation of  the  great  speech  for  which  he 
was  stricken  down,  was  only  prevented 
from  being  consummated,  b}'  the  senator's 
earnest  request.  This  memorial  was  to  have 
been  a  massive  and  elaborate  silver  vase,two 
feet  in  height,  and  of  grand  proportions. 
According  to  the  design,  there  was  to  be, 
upon  the  summit  of  the  vase,  a  figure  rep- 
resentingr  Mr.  Sumner  holding  his  Kansas 
speech  in  his  right  hand  ;  on  either  side 
were  the  figures  of  Justice  and  Freedom, 
crowning  him  with  a  wreath  of^  laurel ;  a 
winged  genius  sat  at  his  feet,  inscribing 
liis  name  on  a  tablet.  Figures  represent- 
ing Victory  were  upon  the  arms  of  the 
vase,  heralding  the  triumph  of  Freedom. 
Above  the  inscription  to  j\Ir.  Sumner,  and 
in  tlwe  center,  was  the  coat  of  arms  of 
Massachusetts,     On  the  foot  of  the  vase 


was  the  coat-of-arms  of  the  nation,  between 
masks  and  ai)i)ropriate  emblems  of  Liberty 
and  Slavery.  By  Mr.  Sumner's  special 
desire,  the  large  amount  contributed  for 
this  purpose  was  devoted  to  the  interests 
of  freedom  in  Kansas. 

But  no  less  was  the  brutal  conduct  of 
Brooks  applauded  throughout  the  south, 
than  was  the  character  of  Mr.  Sumner 
eulogized,  and  his  condition  compassion- 
ated, at  the  north.  Almost  without  excep- 
tion, the  newspapers  in  the  interests  of 
slavery  exulted  over  the  outrage,  and 
urged  similar  treatment  of  Wade,  Seward,- 
Wilson,  Giddings,  Hale,  and  others.  Let- 
ters of  admiration  for  his  exploit  poured 
in  upon  Brooks,  day  after  da}',  and  he  wa« 
soon  in  possession  of  a  dozen  choice  and 
costly  canes,  the  gifts  of  friends  in  South 
Carolina  and  elsewhere,  in  place  of  the 
gutta  percha  weapon  which  was  broken  to 
pieces  in  the  blows  dealt  upon  the  head  of 
Senator  Sumner.  These  presentation 
canes  were  all  elegantl}'  mounted  with 
silver  or  gold,  and  bore  commemorative 
inscriptions  ;  they  were  also  very  solid  and 
and  heavy,  one  blow  from  either  of  them, 
in  the  hands  of  so  powerful  an  assailant  as 
Brooks,  would  finish  a  man  of  ordinary 
thickness  of  skull.  The  one  whieh  he 
most  ])rized,  was  of  massive  live  oak,  silver- 
looped,  and  inscribed  with  a  grateful  trib- 
ute from  the  northern  shipmasters  doing 
business  in  Charleston,  S.  C. 

In  due  time,  the  committee  of  investiga- 
tion appointed  by  the  senate  made  a  report, 
but  the  only  action  taken  by  that  body 
was  to  ti'ansmit  a  message  to  the  house, 
complaining  that  Mr.  Brooks,  one  of  its 
members,  had  made  a  violent  assault  upon 
Senator  Sumner,  but  that,  as  Mr.  Brooks 
was  a  member  of  the  house  of  representa- 
tives, the  latter  alone  had.  tlie  power  to 
arrest,  tr}'^,  and  punish  him.  In  the  debate 
in  the  senate,  on  the  committee's  report, 
there  was  much  excitement.  Notwith- 
standing it  was  known  to  all,  that  Mv. 
Sumner  was  confined  to  his  bed,  in  intense 
suffering.  Senator  Butler,  of  South  Caro- 
lina, said,  among  other  things,  that,  ''had 
he   been  in   Washington,   he  should  have 


622 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


assumed  all  the  responsibility  taken  by  his 
gallant  relative.  Mr.  Brooks  assaulted 
Mr.  Sunnier  with  no  otiier  purpose  than 
to  disgrace  him.  Mr.  Brooks  was  one  of 
the  best  tempered  lellows,  though  impetu- 
ous^ no  doubt,  and  quick  at  resentment. 
Mr.  Sumner  received  two  flesh  wounds, 
and,  being  rather  handsome,  did  not  just 
now  expose  himself.  If  he  had  been  in 
the  army,  and  had  not  gone  out  the  next 
day  after  the  fracas,  he  would  have  de- 
served to  be  cashiered.  On  some  aciounts 
it  was  fortunate  he  (Butler)  was  not  here 


ous,  Mr.  Butler  exclaimed  from  his  seat, 
"  You  are  a  liar  J' 

Brooks  immediately  challenged  Mr.  Wil- 
son to  mortal  combat,  for  having  thus 
characterized  the  assault,  ■which  challenge 
Mr.  Wilson  declined  to  accept,  on  the 
ground  that  "  dueling  is  a  relic  of  bar- 
barous civilization,  which  the  law  of 
the  country  has  branded  as  crime,"  and 
pi-eferring  to  throw  himself  on  "  the 
right     of     self-defense,    in     its    broadest 


sense. 


Mr.  Burliiigame  was   also   chal- 


lenged by  Brooks,  and  the  latter  imme- 


wMf 


"5 

ASSAULT  OX  SENATOR  SdMXER,   BY  P.  S.  BROOKS. 


at  tlie  time,  for  he  did  not  know  what  he 
might  have  done.  To  be  sure,  it  was 
thirty  or  forty  years  since  he  had  been 
engaged  in  a  personal  conflict,  and  his 
hand  was  out  of  practice,  but  he  did  not 
know  but  he  might  have  had  a  trial  at 
him.  One  thing  he  had  no  doubt  of, 
namely,  if  he  (Butler)  wei'e  a  young  man, 
he  icoald  have  Ifft  li'uii  (Sumner)  ///  a 
worse  condition  tlian  he  is  iioic.'^  In  re- 
sponse to  Senator  Wilson's  denunciation 
of  the  act  as  brutal,  cowaidly,  and  murder- 


diately  agreed  to  meet  him,  but  other 
parties  interposing,  hostile  proceedings 
were  stopped.  Both  northern  and  south- 
ern  senators  went  armed  constantly,  and 
there  was  a  "reign  of  terror"  in  the 
capital  of  the  nation.  Being  complained 
of,  in  one  of  the  criminal  courts  of  the 
city  for  assault  and  batter}',  in  his  attack 
on  IMr.  Sumner,  Brooks  appeared  before 
the  judge,  made  an  elaborate  speech  in 
vindication  of  his  course,  waived  a  trial, 
asked    for    judgment,  and,   on   the    judge 


GREAT  AND  MEM0IIAI5LE  EVENTS. 


623 


imposing  a  fine  of  three  hundred  dolLars, 
paid  it  on  tlie  spot. 

The  committee  of  investigation  ap- 
pointed by  the  house  of  representatives 
reported  resolutions  of  expulsion  against 
JSrooks,  and  censure  against  Keitt  and 
Edmundson.  The  resolution  to  expel 
]i rooks  received,  after  a  violent  debate,  one 
hundred  and  twenty-one  votes,  and  there 
were  ninetj'-five  votes  in  the  negative  ;  a 
two-thirds  A'ote  being  required  to  expel  a 
member,  the  resolution  failed.  The  reso- 
lution of  censure  passed.  Mr.  Hoffman, 
of  Maryland,  was  the  only  southern  mem- 
ber who  voted  to  expel  Brooks. 

Brooks,  however,  stung  by  the  rebuke 
conveyed  by  the  vote  of  a  majority  of  the 
house,  made  a  speech  of  coarse  defiance,  in 
which  he  said,  "  If  I  desired  to  kill  the 
senator  from  Massachusetts,  why  did  I  not 
do  it  ?  You  all  admit  that  I  had  it  in  my 
power.  Let  me  tell  you,  that,  expressly  to 
prevent  taking  life,  I  used  an  ordinary 
cane  presented  by  a  friend  in  Baltimore. 
I  went  to  the  senate  deliberately.  I  hesi- 
tated whether  I  should  use  a  horsewhip  or 
a  cowhide,  but  knowing  that  the  strength 
of  the  senator  from  Massachusetts  was 
superior  to  mine,  I  thought  he  might  wrest 
it  from  me.  If  he  had,  I  might  have  done 
Avhat  I  should  have  regretted  for  the  re- 
mainder of  my  life.  (A  voice  :  He  would 
have  killed  him/)  Ten  days  ago,  foresee- 
ing what  the  action  of  the  house  would  be, 
my  resignation  was  put  into  the  hands  of 
the  governor  of  South  Carolina.  And 
now,  Mr.  Speaker,  I  announce  to  you  and  to 
the  house,  I  am  no  longer  a  member  of  the 
thirty-fourth  congress."  Senators  Butler 
and  Mason  sat  near  Brooks  during  the 
delivery  of  his  speech  —  of  the  tone  of 
which  the  preceding  brief  sentences  afford 
some  idea, — and  were  quite  merry  over  it. 
Mr.  Brooks  retired  amid  the  applause  of 
the  south  gallery,  which  was  filled  with 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  and,  upon  reaching 
the  lol:)l>y,  was  embraced  and  showered 
with  kisses  by  the  ladies. 

Returning  home  to  South  Carolina, 
Brooks  was  feted  and  feasted,  and  made 
the   recipient  of  every   possible  mark  of 


honor  and  admiring  gratitude.  An  elec- 
tion was  soon  held  to  fill  the  vacancy 
caused  by  his  resignation,  and  he  was 
elected  by  a  unanimous  vote.     Once  more, 


PRESTON  S.  BROOKS. 


namel}^,  on  the  eighth  of  January,  1857, 
he  made  a  characteristic  speech  on  the 
floor  of  congress,  against  the  prohibition 
of  slavery  in  Nebraska.  But  his  career 
was  suddenly  terminated,  on  the  twenty- 
seventh  of  the  same  month.  His  sickness 
was  brief — inflammation  of  the  throat — 
and  he  expired  in  terrible  pain.  In  the 
intensity  of  his  sufferings  from  strangula- 
tion, he  endeavored  to  tear  open  his  throat, 
that  he  might  get  breath.  He  was  but 
thirty-eight  years  old,  and  left  a  wife  and 
four  children.  His  frame  was  pronounced, 
by  the  undertaker,  the  largest  for  which 
he  had  ever  been  called  upon  to  furnish  a 
coffin. 

Only  four  months  after  the  decease  of 
Brooks,  Senator  Butler  died  at  Edgefield 
court-house,  S.  C,  in  the  sixty-first  year 
of  his  age.  Keitt  met  his  death  during 
the  war  of  the  rebellion,  he  being  at  the 
time  an  officer  in  the  confederate  army. 

From  the  very  first,  Mr.  Sumner's  con- 
dition was  critical  in  the  extreme,  so  much 
so,  that  his  physicians  considered  the 
chances  to  be  against  his  recovery,  and 
visitors  were  peremptorily  forbidden  to  see 
him.  His  head  and  the  glands  of  the 
neck  became  swollen,  the  cuts  soon  ulcer- 
ated, and  there  was  a  constant  torturing 
pain  in  the  head.  An  appearance  of  ery- 
sipelas presented  itself,  a  form  of  inflam- 
mation greatly  to  be  dreaded.  As  soon  as 
he  could  be  removed  with  safet}'^,  he  was 


624 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


carried  into  the  country,  remaining  for 
some  time  under  the  hospitable  roof  of 
Hon.  F.  P.  Blair,  at  Silver  Spring.  In 
the  spring  of  1857,  he  went  to  Europe  by 
the  advice  of  his  phj'sicians,  and  there 
passed  some  months,  returning  in  the 
rtutumn,  with  a  view  to  engaging  in  his 
public  duties. 

Undervaluing,  however,  the  seriousness 
of  his  condition,  Mr.  Sumner's  anticipa- 
tions of  active  usefulness  were  not  to  be 
so  speedily  realized.  At  the  time  of  the 
assault  ujDon  hiiu,  he  failed  to  comprehend 
the  full  extent  and  peculiar  nature  of  the 
injury  received,  and  continued  to  cherish, 
from  the  outset,  the  constant  hope  of  an 
early  restoration  to  sound  health.  But 
the  spring  of  1858  found  him  still  in  such 
impaired  health,  as  to  necessitate  another 
visit  to  Europe,  principally  with  a  view  to 
the  curative  influences  of  travel,  exercise 
in  the  open  air,  and  absence  from  political 
excitement.  At  Paris,  he  met  Dr.  George 
Hay  ward,  the  eminent  Boston  surgeon, 
who  at  once  urged  'active  treatment' — 
that  is,  the  application  of  a  system  of 
counter-irritants,  in  order  to  reach  the 
malady  in  the  cerebral  system  and  in  the 
spine.  With  the  sanction  of  Doctor  Hay- 
ward,  Mr.  Sumner  then  jjut  himself  in  the 
hands  of  Doctor  Brown-Sequard,  the  cele- 
brated physiologist,  so  well  known,  on 
both  sides  of  the  Atlantic,  for  his  suc- 
cess in  diseases  of  the  spine  and  nervous 
system. 

A  careful  and  acute  investigation  of  Mr. 
Sumner's  case,  by  this  eminent  surgeon, 
resulted  in  ascertaining  that,  though  the 
brain  itself  was  free  from  an_y  serious 
remaining  injury,  the  effects  of  the  origi- 
nal commotion  there  were  still  manifest  in 
an  effusion  of  liquid  about  the  brain  and 
in  a  slight  degree  of  congestion,  chietly 
confined  to  the  membrane  around  the 
brain;  it  was  also  found  that  the  spine 
was  suffering  in  two  places  from  the  effect 
of  what  is  called  contre-conp.  Mr.  Sumner 
being  seated  and  inclined  over  his  desk  at 
the  time  of  the  assault,  the  blows  on  his 
liead  took  effect  by  counter-stroke,  or  com- 
municated   shock    in    the   spine.      Doctor 


Brown-Sequard  agreed  with  Doctor  Hay- 
ward,  as  to  the  necessity  of  an  active  treat- 
ment, doubting  very  much  whether  any  de- 
gree of  care  or  lapse  of  time,  unless  the  mor- 
bid condition  of  the  sj'stem  were  directly 
acted  upon,  would  not  always  leave  the  pa- 
tient exjjosed  to  a  relajjse.  He  proceeded, 
therefore,  at  once,  to  apply  fire  to  the  hack 
of  the  neck  and  along  the  spine.  "  I  have 
applied  " — writes  M.  Sequard  to  a  friend, 
at  this  time — "six  nioxas  to  Senator 
Sumner's  neck  and  back,  and  he  has  borne 
these  exceedinrjhj  painful  api>lications  with 
the  greatest  courage  and  patience.  You 
know  that  a  *moxa'  is  a  burning  of  the 
skin  with  inflamed  agaric  (jimadoii,)  cot- 
ton wool,  or  some  other  very  combustible 
substance.  I  had  never  seen  a  man  bear- 
ing with  such  a  fortitude  as  Mr.  Sumner 
has  shown,  the  extremely  violent  pain  of 
this  kind  of  burning."  The  recovery,  by 
Mr.  Sumner,  of  his  general  health,  from 
the  original  shock,  was  due  to  what  his 
English  and  French  phj-sicians  called  the 
wonderful  recuperative  energies  of  his 
constitution  and  to  a  remarkable  power  of 
resistance  to  injury.  It  was  this,  too,  in 
alliance  with  his  untouched  vigor  of  will, 
that  enabled  Mr.  Sumner  to  bear  the  moxa 
without  the  chloroform  which  Doctor  Se- 
quard recommended,  and  without  the 
shrinking  which  the  doctor  expected. 

This  severe  medical  treatment  was  suc- 
ceeded by  that  of  baths  and  other  reme- 
dial resorts.  In  a  letter  written  by  Mr. 
Sumner,  in  September,  1858,  he  says : 
"  My  life  is  devoted  to  my  health.  I  wish 
that  I  could  say  that  I  am  not  still  an 
invalid ;  but,  except  when  attacked  by  the 
pain  in  my  chest,  I  am  now  comfortable, 
and  enjoy  my  baths,  my  walks,  and  the 
repose  and  incognito  which  I  find  here.  I 
begin  the  day  with  douches,  hot  and  cold, 
and  when  thoroughly  exhausted,  am 
wrapped  in  sheet  and  blanket,  and  con- 
voyed to  my  hotel  and  laid  on  my  bed. 
After  my  walk,  I  find  myself  obliged  again 
to  take  to  my  bed,  for  two  liours  before 
dinner.  But  this  whole  treatment  is  in 
pleasant  contrast  with  the  protracted  suf- 
ferings from  fire  which  made  my  summer 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


625 


a  torment.  And  yet  I  fear  that  I  must 
return  again  to  that  treatment.  It  is  with 
a  pang  unspeakable  that  I  find  myself  thus 
arrested  in  the  labors  of  life  and  in  the 
•liities  of  my  position."  It  was  not  until 
the  autumn  of  1859,  that  Mr.  Sumner  was 
sufficiently  restored  in  health,  to  justify 
him  in  returning  home  and  resuming  his 
seat  in  the  senate. 

Though  originally  elected  to  the  United 
States  senate  by  a  majority  of  only  one 
vote,  in  a  legislature  composed  of  several 
hundred    members,  —  and   not  even  then 


until  after  many  and  wearisome  baMotings, 
running  through  several  weeks, — be  was 
almost  unanimously  re-elected  in  1857; 
again,  in  18G3,  with  but  few  dissentient 
votes;  and  again,  in  1869,  with  similar 
unanimity; — making  a  period  of  twenty- 
four  consecutive  years,  and  by  which  he 
became  "  the  Father  of  the  Senate,"  in 
point  of  protracted  official  service.  He 
died,  in  office,  in  1874.  The  fame  of  his 
career,  as  statesman,  orator,  and  ])hilan- 
thropist,  ma}^  be  said  to  be  Avorld-wide. 
Such  are  time's  impressive  changes. 


40 


LXXIII. 

HORRIBLE    AND     MYSTERIOUS     MURDER     OF    DOCTOR 
BURDELL,  A   WEALTHY   NEW  YORK   DENTIST, 
IN   HIS    OWN    OFFICE.— 1857. 


Fifteen  Ghastly  Stabs  Upon  His  Body. — Arrest  and  Trial  of  Mrs.  Cunningham,  His  Landlady  and  Mis- 
tress, for  the  Crime. — Her  Claim  to  be  His  Widow  and  Heiress — She  Secretly  Borrows  an  Infant,  to 
which  She  Pretends  to  Give  Hirth  as  Doctor  Burdell's  Child. — Disgraceful  Revelations  of  Intrigue  and 
Infamy  in  Fashionable  Life. — Siiocking  Butchery  of  the  Doctor. — Found  Dead  by  His  Office  Boy. — 
Bloody  Appearance  of  the  Room  — Mrs.  Cunningham's  Character  —  Unscrupulous  and  Strong- 
Minded. — Her  Rei)eated  Threats. — Jealousies,  Hostilities,  Schemings. — Doctor  Burdell  in  Fear  for  His 
Life. — Speaks  of  Her  with  Terror — The  Murder  Announced  to  Mrs.  Cunningham. — She  Embraces 
and  Kisses  the  Corpse  — Dark  Case  for  Her  in  Court. — Insufficient  Proof;  Acquitted — New  Chapter 
in  the  Drama. — Her  Assumed  Pregnancy. — Offers  One  Tliousand  Dollars  for  an  Infant. — How  it 
was  Obtained. — Her  Mock  Confinement. — Joy  Over  "  Her  Dear  Baby." — Exposure  of  the  Daring 
Plot — Greatest  of  New  York  Murders. — The  Robinson  and  Jewett  Case. 


"  So  perfect  n  drama,  so  consistent  throushnut.  so  marvelnusly  conceived  and  wondrously  executed,  so  regular  and  obedient  to  the  laws 
of  art,  aoes  not  exist  in  all  the  annals  of  criiue."— Uahpeu's  Welkly. 


UITE  equal,  in  startling  and  bloody  atrocity,  to  the  darkest  deeds  on  the  crim- 
inal calendar  of  our  first  century,  was  the  murder,  on  the  night  of  the  thirti- 
eth of  January,  1857,  of  Dr.  Harvey  Burdell,  a  noted  dentist  of 
New  York  city,  at  his  own  house,  on   Bond  street, — one   of   the 
wealthy    and    fashionable   localities  of  that   metropolis.     He  was 
found   dead,    in   his   office,  on   Saturday   morning, 
January  thirt^^-first,  by  his  errand-boy,  who  had 
come,   as   usual,  about   half-jiast   eight  o'clock,   to 
attend  to   his   office  duties.     The  bodj',  when  dis^ 
covered,  M'as  lying  upon  the  floor,  shockingly  muti^ 
latcd,  and  surrounded  with  clots  of  blood,  and  the 
door  and  walls  of  the  room  besmeared   with  l)loo(\ 
also.     The   inmates  being   alarmed.  Dr.  John  AV. 
Francis,  a  resident  in  the  immediate  vicinity,  was 
called  in   to   make  an   examination.     He  found  a 
large  nunil)er  of  deep  wounds,  almo.st  any  of  which 
would   cause   death,  had  been   inflicted  with  some 
sharp  instrument  on  the  doctor's  person.     There 
was  also  a  mark,  as  of  a  ligature,  around  the  neck 
of  the  deceased ;  a  mark  quite  distinct  on  the  front 
TRIAL  OF  MKs.  cuNNiNoiiAM.  aud   on    either    side,   but   disappearing   altogether 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


627 


before  reacliiiig  the  back  part  of  the  neck. 
Tlie  whole  gave  the  impression  that  tlio 
ligature  had  been  applied  from  behind  and 
that  the  neck  had  been  drawn  backward. 

On  the  announcement  that  so  frightful 
and  mj'sterious  a  murder  had  been  com- 
mitted ujion  the  person  of  so  noted  a  pro- 
fessional citizen,  the  agitation  of  the 
community  was  indescribable.  Nor  was  it 
long  before  the  information  became  widely 
known,  that  Doctor  Burdell's  landlady, 
Mrs.  Cunningham,  sustained  the  relation  of 
mistress  to  him,  tliat  she  claimed  to  have 
been  secretly  married  to  him,  that  she 
was  sufficiently  unscrupulous  and  strong- 
minded  to  engage  in  an  intrigue  against 
his  fortune  if  not  his  person ;  and  that  the 
house,  though  respectable  and  aristocratic 
externally,  was,  within,  the  scene  of  con- 
tijuial  bickerings,  hostilities,  jealousies, 
and  schemes — of  espionage  througli  key- 
holes, of  larcenies  of  papers,  of  suspicions 
among  the  servants,  of  quarrels  in  the 
entries,  and  of  indecorums  in  the  chambers. 
Though  Doctor  Burdell  was  the  owner  of 
this  house,  it  was  not  his  boarding-house, 
the  whole  dwelling — with  the  exception  of 
the  doctor's  office — being  occupied  by  Mrs. 
Cunningham  and  her  children,  together 
with  a  few  boarders  and  lodgers. 

Almost  immediately,  suspicion  fastened 
upon  the  inmates  of  the  house,  and  this 
feeling  deepened  into  conviction,  as  the 
coroner's  investigation  progressed.  The 
substance  of  this  testimony  was,  that  Doctor 
Burdell,  whose  mistress  Mrs.  Cunningham 
was  known  to  have  been,  was  not  at  the 
time  of  his  decease  on  good  terms  with 
her,  and  considered  that  he  stood  in 
danger  of  his  life  from  her  and  her 
family.  Slie  wanted  him  to  marry  her, 
was  actuall}^  married  by  Rev.  Mr.  Mar- 
vine  to  some  man  who  personated  Doctor 
Burdell,  and  Mrs.  Cunningham  declared 
in  her  evidence  on  the  inquest  that  she 
was  Mrs.  Burdell ;  but  various  circum- 
stances went  to  show  that  Burdell  was  not 
the  man,  and  that  the  certificate  of  mar- 
riage was  based  upon  a  fraud.  One  month 
after  this  marriage,  Mrs.  Cunningham 
desired    her    attorney    to    renew   a   suit 


against  Burdell  for  breach  of  promise; 
said  suit  having  been  withdrawn  previ- 
ously, on  terms  favorable  to  Mrs.  Cunning- 
ham. This  fact  seemed  to  dispose  of  the 
alleged  marriage,  and  to  convict  Mrs.  Cun- 
ningham of  having,  on  the  morning  after 
Burdell's  death,  fraudulently  assumed  to 
be  his  widow.  It  also  appeared  that 
Burdell,  from  his  great  animosity  to,  and 
fear  of  the  Cunninghams,  desired  to  get 
them  out  of  his  house,  gave  them  notice  to 
quit,  and  was  to  have  leased  the  house  to 
another  party  named  Stansbur}-,  on  the 
day  following  the  one  on  which  he  was 
murdered, — an  arrangement  Avhich,  if  car- 
ried into  effect,  w^ould  have  rendered  Mrs. 
Cunningham  and  her  daughters  destitute 
and  without  a  home.  Finally,  a  loaded 
revolver  and  a  safe-key  were  found  in  Mrs. 
Cunningham's  possession,  which  belonged 
to  Doctor  Burdell. 

On  the  evidence  thus  elicited,  Mrs.  Cun- 
ningham, and  Messrs.  Eckel  and  Snod- 
grass,  two  of  her  boarders,  were  committed 
to  prison,  as  parties  concerned  in  the 
frightful  deed.  Mr.  Eckel  was  a  man  of 
thirty-four  years,  being  just  two  years 
younger  than  Mrs.  Cunningham;  and 
Snodgrass  was  a  young  man  of  about 
twenty.  They  each  and  all  protested  their 
entire  innocence,  and  Mrs.  Cunningham, 
from  the  very  first,  carried  out  her  as- 
sumed ignorance  and  guiltlessness  of  the 
murder  with  an  adroitness  which,  judged 
by  the  subsequent  developments  in  the 
case,  must  be  regarded  as  unequaled  in  the 
annals  of  crime.  Thus,  on  first  being 
informed  of  the  news  of  the  murder,  she 
began  to  cry  most  piteously.  Mr.  Snod- 
grass held  her  awhile  on  the  bed.  Mrs. 
Cunningham  then  seemed  crazy,  and  tore 
her  hair  vehementl3^  Doctor  Main,  who 
entered  the  room  immediately  after  the 
family  is  supposed  to  have  first  heard  of 
the  dreadful  tragedy,  stated  that  the 
youngest  of  the  two  young  ladies  laj'  across 
the  bed,  and  appeared  to  be  in  great 
agony,  Mrs.  Cunningham  at  the  same  time 
exclaiming,  "  He  is  dead,  and  I  alwaj'S 
liked  him,  and  thought  a  great  deal  of 
him."       William     Cunningham     testifiec? 


628 


OUE  FIEST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


that  he  did  not  know  what  his  mother  said 
first,  that  she  was  running  round  the 
room,  not  knowing  what  to  do,  and  that 
his  sister  fainted  away  on  the  bed.  Snod- 
grass,  in  Iiis  evidence  on  this  point,  said: 
"I  was  sitting  in  Mrs.  Cunningham's 
room,  playing  the  banjo ;  tlie  two  Misses 
Cunningham  were  there,  and  Mrs.  Cun- 
ningham. The  cook  came  up  and  said, 
'  You  are  enjoying  j'ourselves  so,  and  tiie 
doctor  is  dead  down  stairs  ! '  They  all 
(Snodgi'ass  added)  began  to  halloo.  I 
immediately  started  down  stairs,  to  see  if  it 
was  true.  I  opened  the  door  and  saw  Doc- 
tor Burdell ;  I  met  Mrs.  Cunningham  on 
the  stairs  as  I  returned.  I  do  not  remem- 
ber that  she  said  anything.  Miss  Helen 
Cunningham  fainted  on  the  chair;  her 
sister  Augusta  seemed  excited,  but  did  not 
faint.  Mrs.  Cunningham  wanted  to  go 
down  ;  I  would  not  let  her."  Doctor  Rob- 
erts testified  that  Snodgrass  sat  by  the  chair, 
holding  Mrs.  Cunningham,  who  was  in  a 
great  state  of  excitement,  as  were  also  the 
daughters.  "  I  tried  to  Cjuiet  them,  staid 
a  few  moments,  and  went  down  and  found, 
as  we  thought,  that  he  had  died  in  a  fit. 
I  then  immediately  went  up  to  them,  and 
told  the  ladies  that  it  was  not  so  bad  as 
they  imagined — that  he  had  probably  died 
a  natural  death ;  then  Mrs.  Cunningham 
appeared  to  be  a  little  more  easy,  and  said, 
'  Did  he  die  a  natural  death  ? '  Hon. 
David  Ullman,  who  hired  a  lodging-room 
in  the  house,  stated  that,  after  the  first 
outcry,  he  heard  Mrs.  Cunningham  dash 
herself  against  the  door  separating  the 
rooms,  and  exclaim,  'Doctor  Burdell  is 
dead !  Oh,  Mr.  Ullman,  Doctor  Burdell  is 
dead  ! '  That  the  doctor  was  the  victim  of 
a  most  foul  murder,  fifteen  dreadful  stabs 
on  his  body  at  once  proved.  On  afterward 
seeing  the  corpse,  Mi's.  Cunningham  threw 
herself  dramatically  upon  it,  and  wept  con- 
vulsively as  she  embraced  the  ghastly 
form. 

The  trial  of  Mrs.  Cunningham,  for  the 
alleged  commission  of  the  murder,  created 
an  intense  excitement  throughout  the 
land,  the  case  being  scarcely  less  cele- 
brated   than   the    astounding    murder   of 


Doctor  Parkman  by  Professor  Webster, 
the  terrible  butqhery  of  the  printer  Adams 
by  John  C.  Colt,  and  the  weird  and  m3-s- 
terious  assassination  of  that  beautiful  but 
infamous  courtesan,  Helen  Jewett.  In- 
deed, the  profound  sensation  produced  by 
the  tragedy  reached  the  farthermost  coun- 
tries on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  and, 
in  almost  every  foreign  journal,  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  event  were  published  in 
detail. 

It  appeared,  in  regard  to  Doctor  Burdell, 
that  he  Avas  about  forty -five  years  of  age, 
had  acquired  a  handsome  property  in  the 
practice  of  his  profession,  was  a  director  of 
the  Artisans'  Bank,  supposed  to  be  unmar- 
ried, and  owned  the  house  in   which  he 


DOCTOR   BURDELL. 


was  murdered.  He  was  a  man  of  large 
frame,  full  habit,  fond  of  wine  and  women's 
society,  and,  though  penurious,  a  frequent 
visitor  at  houses  of  pleasure.  He  was  a 
graduate  of  the  Philadel[)hia  Medical  Col- 
lege. Mrs.  Cunningham  was  a  woman  of 
fine  looks,  a  native  of  Jamaica,  L.  I.  Mr. 
Cunningham,  a  distiller,  had  died  some 
years  previously,  his  Avidow  drawing  ten 
thousand  dollars  on  a  life  insurance  which 
he  had  effected.  Since  that  event,  she  led 
a  somewhat  vagrant  life,  residing  in  differ- 
ent places,  under  different  names.  She 
came  from  Saratoga  in  the  autumn  of  1855, 
when  a  Mrs.  Jones  was  Doctor  Burdell's 
tenant ;  and,  on  the  strength  of  a  previous 
acquaintance  with  him,  she  obtained  tem- 
porary accommodations  in  the  liouse,  and 
afterward,  when  Mrs.  Jones  removed  to 
other   quarters,    she    took  charge  for  the 


GREAT  AND  IVIEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


629 


doctor.  Some  time  subsequently,  she  niis- 
curried,  and  laid  tlie  paternity  to  Doctor 
Bardell.  A  few  months  before  the  murder 
serious  difficulties  arose  between  the  par- 
ties, Mrs.  Cunningham  being  charged  by 
the  doctor  with  purloining  jiapers  from  his 
safe.  Such  scandalous  scenes  ensued  tliat, 
on  one  occasion,  a  policeman  was  called  in. 
The  woman  reproached  Doctor  Burdell 
with  not  fulfilling  his  promise  of  marrying 
her.  She  commenced  a  suit  against 
Doctor  Burdell,  for  breach  of  promise, 
which  was  ultimately  adjusted.  She  sub- 
sequently produced  a  certificate  of  mar- 
riage with  the  doctor  on  the  28th  of  Octo- 
ber,  1856. 

Several  witnesses  testified  to  the  great 
apprehensions  for  his  personal  safety  ex- 
pressed by  Doctor  Burdell  shortly  before 
his  death — fears  of  conspiracy  and  violence 
from  persons  in  the  house.  To  his  friend 
Mr.  Stevens,  he  said,  "  I  am  actually 
afraid  to  stay  in  my  own  house."  Mr. 
Stevens  remarked,  "  You  are  a  man  of 
means ;  1  would  not  stay  if  I  feared  for 
my  life."  The  doctor  said  he  was  cau- 
tious, and  he  thought  he  would  stay  till 
May,  and  get  the  house  clear.  To  one  of 
the  female  servants  he  also  said  that  Mrs. 
Cunningham  had  threatened  his  life — that 
she  would  take  his  life  if  he  told  some 
things  about  her  and  her  daughter.  On 
the  day  preceding  the  evening  of  the  trag- 
edy, he  had  besought  his  friend.  Doctor 
Blaisdell,  to  come  and  stay  with  him  until 
May — to  come  that  very  night  and  sleep 
with  him,  as  he  did  not  feel  safe  un- 
der the  circumstances.  Doctor  Blaisdell 
agreed  to  do  so,  but  was  detained  at  home 
by  company.  On  the  same  day,  likewise, 
he  remarked  to  the  wife  of  Mr.  Stevens, 
speaking  of  Mrs.  Cunningham,  "  She 
thinks  I  am  an  old  bachelor  worth  about 
one  hundred  thousand  dollars,  and  do  not 
know  what  I  want  m3^self.  She  is  deter- 
mined I  shall  marry  her,  and  I  am  deter- 
mined I  shall  not;  out  of  the  house  she 
shall  go." 

That  the  murder  took  place  in  the 
course  of  the  night  admitted  of  no  doubt. 
The    inmates   of   the    house,    except   Mr. 


Till  man,  had  retired  to  rest  before  half-past 
eleven  o'clock ;  Mr.  Ullman  came  in  at 
half-past  twelve,  groped  his  way  to  his 
room  on  tlie  third  lloor,  went  to  bed,  lay 
awake  for  some  time,  slept  lightly,  but 
heard  no  noise  whatever.  All  the  rest  of 
the  persons  in  the  house  disclaimed  hear- 
ing any  noise  in  the  course  of  the  night. 
Mr.  Brooks,  living  opposite,  at  No.  36,  did 
hear  a  cry  as  of  murder,  shortly  before 
eleven  o'clock.  At  ten  minutes  before 
eleven,  a  strange  man  passed,  and,  when  a 
few  steps  beyond  No.  31,  heard  a  shriek  or 
cry.  Mr.  William  Ross  testified  to  going 
from  Broadway  through  Bond  street  at  the 
same  time,  behind  Doctor  Burdell,  whom 
he  saw  go  up  the  steps  of  No.  31,  enter 
with  a  latch-key,  and  disappear;  he  had 
gone  but  eight  or  ten  yards  farther,  when 
he  heard  a  cry  of  murder,  as  if  from  No. 
31,  but  on  looking  around,  saw  no  one  in 
the  street. 

It  appeared  that  Eckel  was  in  the  house 
the  whole  evening,  with  the  exception  of 
a  few  minutes;  in  the  parlor  from  nine 
to  ten  ;  -Mrs.  Cunningham  joined  him 
there  at  half-past  nine  ;  at  ten,  Mrs.  Cun- 
ningham called  up  the  cook,,  told  her  what 
to  get  for  breakfast,  and  sent  her  to  bed. 
At  half-past  ten,  Snodgrass  went  down  to 
the  basement,  for  water,  ai:d,  returning  to 
the  third  floor,  found  the  whole  family, 
Mr.  Eckel  included,  in  Mrs.  Cunningham's 
bed-room.  In  a  short  time,  Snodgrass 
retired  to  his  room  in  the  attic ;  about 
three  minutes  before,  Eckel,  mIio  had  been 
sitting  by  the  fire  with  his  boots  off,  went 
to  bed.  When  Snodgrass  withdrew,  he 
left  Mrs.  Cunningham  and  her  two  daugh- 
ters in  the  room. 

In  regard  to  the  movements  of  Doctor 
Burflell,  on  the  fatal  evening,  he  was  seen 
to  leave  the  house  at  half-past  five  in  the 
afternoon,  according  to  the  testimony  of 
Doctor  Main,  who  lived  opposite;  at  half- 
past  nine,  in  the  evening,  he  was  seen 
standing  at  the  corner  of  Bond  street 
and  the  Bowery.  Several  witnesses  de- 
scribed him  as  a  passionate  man,  others 
as  a  quiet,  gentlemanly,  prudent  man,  but 
all  agreed  that  he  was  extremely  penurious. 


630 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


The  appearance  of  Doctor  Burdell's 
body,  on  being  examined,  was  horrible  in 
the  extreme.  There  were  no  less  than 
fifteen  stabs  in  the  neck  and  breast,  made 
with  some  narrow-bladed  sharp  instru- 
ment. One  of  the  cuts  had  severed  the 
jugular  vein,  and  another  nearly  separated 
the  vertebrae.  Two  of  the  wounds  in  the 
breast  had  penetrated  the  heart.  A  cut  on 
the  left  lappet  was  more  than  an  inch 
long;  the  next  cut,  just  below  the  vipper 
button-hole  on  the  same  side,  was  five- 
eighths  of  an  inch  long;  the  next  cut,  one 
inch  above  the  left  breast-j)ocket,  was  one 
inch  long ;  just  above  the  fob-pocket,  on 
the  same  side,  was  another  cut,  seven- 
eighths  of  an  inch  long  ;  and  at  the  junc- 
tion of  the  cloth  and  back,  a  little  below 
the  arm-hole,  was  a  cut  half  an  inch  long ; 
— and  after  this  manner  was  the  whole 
upper  part  of  the  body  frightfully  covered 
with  stabs. 

On  the  arraignment  of  Mrs.  Cunning- 
ham for  trial,  the  first  witness  called  was 
Doctor  Francis,  who  described  minutely 
the  position  and  character  of  all  the  vari- 
ous wounds  found  on  Doctor  Burdell's 
body,  and  also  the  mark  of  a  ligature 
around  his  neck.  The  mark,  when  he  saw 
the  body,  which  was  on  the  morning  after 
the  murder,  was  distinct  on  the  front  and 
on  either  side,  and  disappeared  altogether 
before  reaching  the  back  part  of  the  neck; 
this  gave  him  the  impression  that  the  lig- 
ature had  been  applied  from  behind,  and 
that  the  neck  had  been  drawn  backward. 
It  had  been  said  that  the  wound  under  the 
arm  must  have  been  inflicted  by  a  left- 
handed  person ;  such  had  been  Doctor 
Francis's  opinion  at  first,  but  reflection 
had  changed  his  mind.  Hannah  Conlan, 
the  next  witness,  testified  to  her  residence 
as  a  domestic,  in  the  house  of  Mrs.  Cun- 
ningham, and  to  the  bad  state  of  feeling 
between  Mrs.  Cunningnam  and  Doctor 
lUirdell;  on  one  occasion,  namely,  after 
the  lady  who  came  to  hire  the  house  of 
Doctor  Burdell  had  retired,  Mrs.  Cunning- 
ham came  to  the  kitchen  and  asked  what 
the  lady's  business  was,  and,  on  being  told 
that  Doctor  Burdell  was  going  to  let  the 


house  to  her,  Mrs.  Cunningham  replied 
that  the  doctor  might  not  live  to  rent  the 
house  or  sign  the  papers.  Other  testi- 
mony, confirming  this  state  of  enmity 
between  the  parties,  was  given  by  a  num- 
ber of  persons. 

Perhaps  the  most  important  of  what 
was  received  from  the  witnesses  for  the 
prosecution,  was  that  elicited  on  the  cross- 
examination  of  Doctor  Uhl.  The  doctor's 
impression  appeared  to  be,  that  the  wounds 
were  inflicted  by  a  tall  person,  having  a 
considerable  amount  of  anatomical  knowl- 
edge. The  situations,  too,  in  which  blood, 
was  found — in  the  doctor's  room,  on  the 
stairway  hall,  on  the  hall  floor,  on  the  hall 
basement  floor,  on  the  hinge  side  of  the 
basement  front  door,   and   again   on   the 


MRS.  CUNNINGHAM. 


door  of  the  main  entrance, — appeared  to 
indicate  that  the  person  who  committed 
the  deed  had  passed  out  of  the  room,  down 
the  stairs  to  the  main  floor ;  then  turned 
and  passed  down  into  the  basement  hall, 
tried  to  find  the  knob  of  the  front  base- 
ment door,  and  failing,  had  returned  and 
passed  out  of  the  main  door  into  the  street. 

There  was  considerable  testimony  elic- 
ited, bearing  upon  the  impression  that  the 
wounds  were  dealt  by  a  left-handed  per- 
son, and  that  Mrs.  Cunningham  was  a  left- 
handed  woman.  The  medical  witnesses, 
however,  gave  no  decided  opinion  as  to 
what  hand  was  used  by  the  person  who 
perpetrated  the  deed,  and  Avitnesses  famil- 
iar with  Mrs.  Cunningham  had  failed  to 
notice  any  imusual  use  of  her  left  hand. 

Much  weight  was  attached  to  the  testi- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


631 


mony  of  Mary  Donolioe,  who  had  lived  for 
two  months  with  Mrs.  Cunningham,  as 
chambermaid.  She  went  out  on  the 
Wednesday  evening  preceding  the  murder, 
and,  being  ill,  did  not  return  again  prior 
to  that  event.  She  was  there,  however,  at 
the  time  when  the  terrible  dispute  arose 
between  Mrs.  Cunningham  and  Doctor 
Burdell.  The  doctor  rushed  down  stairs 
to  the  basement,  very  much  agitated,  and 
expressed  himself  that  he  must  endeavor 
to  get  rid  of  such  a  concern  out  of  the 
house.  He  told  Hannah,  the  cook,  that 
the  eldest  daughter  had  torn  his  hair  and 
abused  him ;  he  then  seemed  to  go  out  for 
an  officer,  staid  a  few  moments,  and  one 
of  the  detached  police  soon  came,  the  two 
standing  and  talking  outside.  Miss  Helen 
tried  to  get  him  in,  saying,  "  Doctor,  if 
you  will  come  up  stairs  along  with  me,  I 
will  get  my  mother  to  give  you  those 
papers."  Mrs.  Cunningham  told  Hannah 
afterward,  that  they  were  some  important 
pajjers  he  accused  her  of  having  stolen 
from  his  safe  ;  after  this,  witness  heard  no 
more  loud  talk,  and  soon  after  the  doctor 
went  out  for  his  dinner.  When  Mrs. 
Cunningham  insisted  upon  witness  going 
to  bed  at  nine  o'clock,  witness  refused,  on 
the  ground  that  it  was  unreasonable ;  on 
Saturday,  the  twenty-fourth,  just  one  week 
previous  to  the  murder,  Mrs.  Cunningham 
came  down  four  times,  and  at  last  sat  down 
in  the  basement,  and  said  she  would  not 
leave  until  witness  went  to  bed.  Mr. 
Eckel,  during  the  month  of  January,  was 
always  in  Mrs.  Cunningham's  bed-room, 
and  witness  supposed  they  were  going  to 
be  married ;  never  saw  the  same  famil- 
iarity between  Doctor  Burdell  and  Mrs. 
Cunningham,  as  between  her  and  Eckel. 
Mrs.  Cunningham  said  it  was  time  Doctor 
Burdell  was  out  of  the  world,  for  he  was 
not  fit  to  live  in  it ;  and  Augusta  said  he 
was  a  bad  man,  in  the  presence  of  Eckel 
at  the  breakfast  table.  At  the  time  of  the 
quarrel  with  the  doctor,  Snod grass  was 
seemingly  very  mad  against  the  doctor, 
saying  that  he  ought  to  get  his  head 
knocked  in ;  next  morning,  at  breakfast, 
they   all   said   he    was    an  old   devil — he 


should  have  been  compelled  to  stay  out; 
Eckel  sat  beside  Mrs.  Cunningham,  and 
looked  leeringly  at  her, — he  had  got  the 
habit  of  going  down  stairs  and  going 
about  the  place,  seemed  to  be  taking  the 
mastery  of  the  house  upon  him,  and  twice 
he  bolted  the  door,  and  even  closed  the 
little  shutters  at  the  sides.  Witness-  also 
stated  that  Doctor  Burdell  was  a  very 
quiet  gentleman,  except  when  Mrs.  Cun- 
ningham put  him  into  a  passion;  Mrs. 
Cunningham  had  keys  with  which  she 
could  go  into  his  room  at  any  time.  Han- 
nah said  that  Mrs.  Cunningham  told  her 
that  she  had  a  halter  about  his  neck,  and 
could  fix  him  at  any  time  when  he  was 
cross. 

Another  witness  testified  that  she  called 
upon  Doctor  Burdell  the  week  before  the 
murder,  at  which  time  he  said  that  he  had 
let  his  house  to  a  lady,  the  most  horrible 
woman  he  had  ever  met,  and  very  artful, 
one  who  would  do  anything  for  the  pur- 
pose of  accomplishing  what  she  undertook ; 
that  he  suspected  foul  play,  and  did  not 
like  the  way  they  were  prowling  about  the 
house — that  he  had  lost  papers  and  the 
key  of  his  safe,  and  nothing  was  private  to 
him  ;  he  said,  "  Thank  heaven !  I  will  get 
rid  of  them  all  on  the  first  of  May."  He 
said  Mrs.  Cunningham  would  outwit  the 
devil,  and  he  would  rather  be  in  the  hands 
of  the  devil  than  in  those  of  a  woman  like 
her ;  that  he  would  never  make  a  contract 
with  another  woman  ;  said  he  was  not  mar- 
ried, but  farther  from  it  than  ever ;  had 
never  been  so  taken  in  before  ;  he  said,  "  I 
am  prepared  for  them — I  am  watching." 

But,  notwithstanding  the  powerful  chain 
of  circumstantial  evidence  implicating  Mrs. 
Cunningham  in  the  crime, — the  vast  mass 
of  testimony  going  to  show  that  upon  her, 
almost  alone,  rested  the  full  weight  of  sus- 
picion,— she  was  acquitted  by  the  jury,  for 
want  of  legal  proof,  and  Eckel  was  also 
discharged. 

Another  chapter,  however,  in  this  drama 
of  blood  and  mystery,  was  to  open.  Claim- 
ing to  be  the  widow  of  Doctor  Burdell, 
Mrs.  Cunningham  had  lost  no  time  after 
the  commission  of  the  murder,  in  applying 


632 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


for  letters  of  administration  upon  his 
estate.  Rumors,  too,  were  rife,  that  the 
marriage  ■was  not  to  be  an  unfruitful  one, 
and  she  herself  did  not  deny  the  truth  of 
the  rumor,  but  adopted  the  most  unmis- 
takable means  of  giving  it  the  appearance 
of  truth.  Indeed,  while  she  was  still  an 
inmate  of  the  Tombs,  awaiting  her  trial 
for  murder,  she  communicated  the  fact  of 
her  pregnancy  to  the  matron  of  that  estab- 
lishment, and  by  her  "  make-up "  and 
other  corroborative  circumstances,  removed 
all  doubt  from  that  lady's  mind.  She  also 
consulted  Doctor  Uhl  as  to  her  condition, 
and  got  him  to  prescribe  tlie  medicines  fit- 
ted for  a  lady  so  situated.  Doctor  Uhl  had 
been  her  physician  for  some  time  previously', 
and,  on  account  of  his  theory  of  the  mur- 
der, was  an  important  witness  in  her 
favor  on  the  trial.  He  does  not  appear  to 
have  had  his  suspicions  aroused  at  first. 

Subsequently,  and  after  her  acquittal  by 
the  jury,  she  again  on  several  occasions 
consulted  Doctor  Uhl,  and  desired  to  en- 
gage his  services  on  the  eventful  occasion. 
He  suggested  to  her  the  propriety,  in  view 
of  the  importance  of  the  matter,  of  having 
a  preliminary  examination  made  hy  two 
or  more  respectable  physicians.  Mrs. 
Cunningliam  at  first  admitted  the  force  of 
the  suggestion,  and  expressed  lierself  will- 
ing and  anxious  to  have  it  done,  request- 
ing Doctor  Uhl  to  make  the  necessary 
arrangements  for  it.  The  doctor  could  not 
fail  to  perceive  that  she  avoided  such  an 
examination  as  he  proposed.  This  and 
other  little  circumstances  which  he  noticed, 
awakened  his  suspicions,  and  led  him  to 
believe  that  her  pregnancy  was  a  sham. 

At  a  subsequent  interview  she  admitted 
to  Doctor  Uhl  that  her  j^regnancy  was 
simulated,  and  offered  the  doctor  one  thou- 
sand dollars  to  procure  her  a  baby. 

Doctor  Uhl,  on  advice  of  counsel,  com- 
municated all  he  knew  to  the  district 
attorney',  who  urged  Doctor  Uhl  to  con- 
tinue to  wink  at  the  deception,  until 
matters  should  be  fully  ripe  for  a  complete 
exposure  and  detection.  Having  ascer- 
tained, through  Doctor  Uhl,  that  Mrs. 
Cunningham    had    selected   the   28th   of 


July,  or  thereabouts  for  the  time  of  Lev 
accouchment,  Mr.  Hall,  the  district  attor- 
ney, was  on  the  look-out ;  and  the  plan 
which  Doctor  Uhl  proposed  to  his  patient, 
and  which  seemed  to  please  and  gratify 
her  immensely,  was  this  :  Doctor  Uhl  pro- 
fessed to  have  the  good  luck  of  being 
engaged  by  a  woman  in  Elm  street,  con- 
venient to  Bond,  to  assist  her  in  her 
approaching  confinement.  This  Avoman 
Avas  represented  to  be  one  of  those  matrons 
known,  at  that  period,  as  "California 
widows,"  who  A\ould  be  overjoyed  at  being 
relieved  of  a  responsibility  on  which  her 
husband  had  not  calculated.  Neither 
woman  was  to  see  or  know  the  other. 


HOUSE  IN  WIIICU  DK.   l!lIKUEi>L  WAS  MURDERED. 

Apartments  were  procured  on  Elm 
street,  and  were  furnished  by  Mr.  Hall, 
for  the  proper  reception  of  the  lying-in 
woman.  Four  policemen  were  detailed  to 
keep  a  close  look-out  on  31  Bond  street. 
An  infant  that  had  been  born  on  Saturday 
at  Bellevue  Hospital  was  visited  by  Mr. 
Hall,  and  having  been  marked  so  as  to  be 
easily  identified,  was  sent  down  with  a 
nurse  to  190  Elm  street.  There  a  physician 
was  in  waiting,  duly  night-capped  and  meta- 
morjdiosed,  to  personate  the  California 
lady  ;  and  Doctor  Uhl  was  there  to  deliver 
over  the  body  to  a  Sister  of  Charit}',  to  be 
represented  on  that  occasion  by  Mrs.  Cun- 
ningham. The  hour  of  nine  o'clock  was 
fixed  as  the  time  for  that  denouement. 
Mrs.  Cunningham  was  to  proceed  to  Elm 


GREAT  AND  IMEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


G33 


street,  dressed  as  a  Sister  of  Cliarity,  to 
receive  tlie  little  stranger. 

Mrs.  Cunningliam  was  duly  tracked,  by 
Police-Captain  Speight,  from  31  I'ond 
street  to  Elm  street,  and  seen  to  return 
\\  itli  a  basket  containing  the  babj'.  She 
was  permitted  to  enter  her  house,  and  at 
eleven  o'clock  a  domiciliary  visit  was  paid 
by  the  officers. 

The  scene  in  the  bed-room  was  melodra- 
matic. Doctor  De  la  Montagne,  (a  con- 
nection of  Mr.  Hall  )  and  Police-Inspector 
Dilks  rang  the  door-bell,  but  there  was  no 
answer.  The  doctor  then  rang  violently, 
when  the  door  was  soon  opened  by  two 
women,  who  objected  to  their  coming  in, 
and  asked  what  was  wanted  at  that  late 
hour.  The  callers  excused  themselves  for 
being  there  at  such  a  time,  by  saying  they 
had  intercepted  a  doctor  who  stated  that 
there  had  been  a  delivery  in  the  house, — 
Inspector  Dilks  remarking  that  he  had 
come  to  see  if  it  was  all  right.  To  this, 
one  of  the  women  replied  that  Mrs.  Bur- 
dell  was  sick  and  could  not  be  seen.  The 
two  then  closely  followed  the  women  up 
stairs,  and  entered  the  upper  second-story 
hall.  One  of  the  women  looked  into  the 
front  large  room  and  said,  "  There  are  two 
gentlemen  who  wish  to  come  in  ; "  a  voice 
said  from  within,  "  Lock  that  door — they 
must  not  come  in — I  tell  you  to  lock  that 
door ! " 

Doctor  Uhl  had  previously  been  sum- 
moned to  repair  immediately  to  No.  31 
Bond  street,  as  Mrs.  Burdell  was  then  suf- 
fering with  labor  pains.  On  arriving,  he 
was  ushered  into  a  dark  room,  where  Mrs. 
Cunningham  was  in  bed.  She  feigned  to 
be  very  sick,  and  groaned  in  apparent 
agony  ;  the  nurse  was  washing  the  child. 
While  he  was  there,  Doctor  Catlin>  one  of 
Mrs.  Cunningham's  accomplices,  brought 
in  a  pail  of  blood  and  smeared  the  sheets, 
and  otherwise  made  it  appear  that  a  birth 
had  actually  taken  place.  Mrs.  Cunning- 
ham exclaimed  soon  after,  "  I  have  put  my 
trust  in  God,  and  he  has  favored  me  ;  I 
shall  now  be  revenged  upon  my  persecu- 
tors." On  being  asked  by  Doctor  De  la 
Montagne,  "  Do  you  claim  this  child  as  the 


child  of  Harvey  Burdell  ?  "  she  said,  "  Of 
course,  whose  else  should  it  be  ?  "  On  the 
officers  entering  her  room,  they  found  the 
two  nurses  busily  preparing  some  warm 
drink  for  the  pretended  patient.  On  the 
infant  being  removed  by  the  officers,  Mrs. 
Cunningham  said,  ''Don't  take  away  my 
dear  baby  from  me."  Doctor  De  la  Mon- 
tagne demanded,  in  the  presence  of  the 
officers,  to  see  the  umbilical  cord.  Mrs. 
Cunningham  and  the  nurse  objected,  but 
after  some  jiersuasion,  gave  their  consent. 
He  then  removed  the  bandage  and  saw  the 
piece  of  pocket-handkerchief  on  the  cord, 
which  was  placed  there  at  190  Elm  street. 
The  infant  was  now  taken  to  Bellevue 
Hospital  and  restored  to  its  mother,  a 
lying-in  patient  in  that  institution.  Doc- 
tor Catlin  turned  state's  evidence,  and 
exposed  the  fictitious  birth.  Mrs.  Cun- 
ningham escaped  the  penalty  attaching  to 
so  flagrant  a  crime,  because  of  the  irregu- 
lar proceedings  which  had  been  resorted  to 
by  the  officers  of  the  law  in  enabling  her 
to  consummate  her  plans.  She  failed, 
however,  to  establish  her  claim  to  having 
been  married  to  Doctor  Burdell,  and  thus 
the  whole  amazing  and  abhorrent  scheme, 
by  which  she  was  to  obtain  possession  of 
the  doctor's  property,  utterly  miscarried. 

Two  of  the  most  terrible  tragedies, 
therefore,  arising  from  the  guilty  relation  of 
libertine  and  mistress,  have  thus  been  fur- 
nished by  New  York,  namely,  the  murder 
of  Doctor  Burdell  by  the  hands  or  at  the 
instigation  of  Mrs.  Cunningham,  and  that 
of  the  brilliant  and  beautiful,  but  dejiraved 
courtesan,  Helen  Jewett.  This  last-named 
tragedy  occurred  April  9,  1836.  Rich- 
ard P.  Robinson,  the  alleged  perpetrator 
of  this  horrid  deed,  had  for  some  time  been 
in  the  habit  of  "  keeping  "  a  girl  named 
Helen  Jewett,  at  No.  41  Thomas  street,  a 
noted  house  of  ill-fame,  kept  by  Rosina 
Townsend, — one  of  the  most  splendid  of 
the  Palaces  of  Pleasure  and  Passion  to  be 
found  in  that  cit3^ 

Having,  as  he  suspected,  some  cause  for 
jealousy,  he  went  to  the  house  on  that 
fatal  night,  with  the  intention  of  murder- 
ing her,  for  he  carried  a  hatchet  with  him. 


634 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


On  going  up  into  her  room,  quite  late  at 
night,  he  mentioned  his  suspicions,  ex- 
pressed his  determination  to  quit  her,  and 
demanded  liis  watch  and  miniature,  to- 
gether with  some  letters  which  were  in 
her  possession.  She  refused  to  give  them 
up,  and  he  then  drew  from  beneath  his 
cloak  the  hatchet,  and  inflicted  upon  her 
head  three  blows,  either  of  which  must 
have  proved  fatal,  as  the  bone  was  cleft  to 
the  extent  of  three  inches  in  each  jilace. 
She  died  without  a  struggle  ;  and  the  cold- 
blooded villain  then  set  fire  to  the  bed, 
after  Avhich  he  ran  down  stairs  secretly, 
went  out  of  the  back  door,  and  escaped  to 
his  boarding-house.  In  a  short  time,  Mrs. 
Town  send  was  aroused  by  the  smell  of 
smoke,  and,  rushing  up  stairs,  saw  the  bed 
on  fire  and  the  mangled  body  of  the  unfor- 
tunate girl  upon  it.  She  ran  down,  raised 
the  alarm,  and  the  watchmen,  running  to 
the  spot,  rescued  the  body  and  preserved 
the  house  from  being  consumed. 

A  cloak  was  found  in  the  yard,  which, 
being  identified  as  that  of  Robinson,  at 
once  the  murderer  was  suspected.  Re- 
ceiving such  information  as  the  horror- 
stricken  inmates  could  furnish  them,  the 
policemen  proceeded  on  their  search  for 
the  assassin,  and  in  a  short  time  Robinson 
was  arrested  in  his  bed,  and  brought  at 
once  to  the  house  where  had  been  com- 
mitted the  awful  crime.  On  seeing  the 
body,  he  exhibited  no  signs  of  emotion, 
but  gazed  around  and  on  his  victim  coolly 
and  calmly. 

The  coroner  was  summoned,  a  jury 
formed,  and,  after  a  patient  examination 
of  the  testimony,  a  verdict  was  rendered 
that  "  she  came  to  her  death  by  blows  upon 


her  head,  inflicted  with  a  hatchet,  by 
Richard  P.  Robinson."  But,  notwith- 
standing the  weight  of  evidence  against 
him,  at  the  regular  trial,  the  jury  failed  to 
convict  him  of  the  deed.  Among  other 
proofs  of  his  guilt,  was  the  complete  iden- 
tification of  the  cloak  found,  as  that  be- 
longing to  Robinson  and  worn  by  him  that 
evening,  and  the  identification  of  the 
bloody  hatchet  as  one  that  belonged  to 
Robinson's  employer,  Mr.  Joseph  Hoxie, 
and  which  had  been  missing  from  the 
store  exactly  from  the  day  of  the  mur- 
der. 

The  extreme  youthfulness — only  nine- 
teen years,  —  handsome  appearance,  and 
social  standing  of  Robinson,  and  the  repu- 
tation of  Helen  Jewett,  as  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  and  accomplished  "  women  of 
pleasure,"  invested  the  case  with  an  all- 
pervading  public  interest.  She  was  well- 
known  to  every  pedestrian  on  Broadway, 
and  had  probably  seduced,  by  her  personal 
attractions,  more  3'oung  men  than  any 
other  of  her  degraded  class.  She  was 
oftentimes  conspicuous  on  Wall  street, 
which  she  paraded  in  an  elegant  green 
dress,  and  generally  with  a  letter  in  her 
hand.  Her  walk  was  in  the  style  of  an 
English  woman,  and  she  gazed  with  great 
boldness  of  demeanor  upon  the  gentlemen 
who  passed  by.  Her  handwriting  was 
beautiful,  and  she  carried  on  an  extensive 
correspondence  with  acquaintances  in  all 
parts  of  the  country.  Not  a  fulsome 
expression  nor  an  unchaste  word  was 
found  in  any  of  the  letters  written  by  her. 
Her  wit,  talents,  beauty,  and  depravity, 
constituted  her  a  remarkable  character, 
and  she  came  to  a  remarkable  end. 


LXXIV. 

FOUNDERING  OF  THE  STEAMER  CENTRAL  AMERICA,  IN 
A  GALE  OFF  CAPE  HATTERAS.— 1857. 


More  than  Four  Hundred  Lives  Lost,  and  Two  Million  Dollars  in  Treasure. — Fury  and  Terror  of  the 
Tempest. — The  Staunch  and  Noble  Vessel  Springs  a  Leak. — Successive  Great  and  Terrible  Waves 
Break  Over  and  Drag  Her  Under,  in  the  Niulit — The  Tale  of  Peril,  Suffering,  Despair,  Parting,  and 
Death. — Unparalleled  Nature  of  this  Disaster. — Hundreds  of  Homes  Desolated. — Gloom  of  the  Pub- 
lic Mind. — The  Financial  Panic  Aggravated — liise  of  the  Fatal  Gale. — Hard  Labor  of  the  Steamer. 
— A  Leak  Caused  by  the  Strain. — Incessant  Working  at  the  Pumps. — Four  Anxious  Days. — 
Approach  of  the  Brig  Marine  — Women  and  Children  Rescued  — Perils  of  the  Life-boat. — Terrible 
Heiglit  of  the  Sea. — Harrowing  Experiences. — The  Two  Little  Babes. — Gradual  Filling  of  the  Ship. 
— Three  Plunges,  and  She  Sinks. — Captain  Herndon  on  the  Wheel-house  — His  Sad  but  Heroic  End. 
— A  Night  on  the  Waves. — Dead  and  Living  Float  Together. — Narratives  of  the  Survivors. 


'  I  will  never  leave  the  ship."— Captain  Herndon. 


HILE  the  country  was  just  entering  upon  the  most 
disastrous  epoch,  in  respect  to  business  and  finance, 
that  ever  befell  a  commercial  nation,  the  general 
'^^»  apprehension  and  gloom  possessing  men's  minds  sud- 
denly took  the  form  of 
liorror,  as  the  tidings 
broke  upon  the  public 
ear,  that  the  steamer 
Central  America  had 
foundered  off  Cape  Hat- 
teras,  with  the  loss  of 
more  than  four  hundred 
lives  and  nearly  two 
millions  of  treasure, — a 
disaster  never  before 
equaled  in  American 
waters. 

The  steamship  Central 
America,  formerly  the 
George  Law,  commanded  by  Lieutenant  W.  L.  Herndon,  United  States  Navj^,  left 
Aspinwall  for  New  York,  on  the  third  of  September,  1857,  having  on  board  the  pas- 
sengers and  treasure  shipped  from  San  Francisco,  by  the  steamer  Sonora,  on  the 
twentieth  of  August.  On  Saturda}',  the  twelfth  of  September,  at  eight  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  she  was  totally  wrecked,  on  the  eastern  edge  of  the  Gulf  Stream  off  Cape 


CAPTAIN  HEKNDON  ON  THE  WHEEL-HOUSE. 


C3G 


OUR  FIRST  CEXTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Hatteras,  and,  out  of  nearly  six  liundrcd 
persons  on  board  at  tlie  time,  about  three- 
fourtlis  went  down  with  her,  together  with 
the  vast  amount  of  bullion,  and  the  pro- 
digious California  mails.  Hundreds  of 
family  circles,  in  all  parts  of  the  land,  were 
thus  suddenly  bereaved  and  desolated ; 
and,  so  direful  was  the  disaster,  as  to 
greatlj^  aggravate  .the  financial  panic  that 
had  just  begun  to  shake  and  shatter  the 
foundations  of  the  business  Avorld. 

The  gale  whicli  caused  this  terrible 
calamity  was  described  by  experienced 
seamen  as  one  of  the  fiercest  ever  known. 
It  commenced  on  the  evening  of  the  eighth 
— the  day  on  Avhicb  the  Central  America 
left  Havana — and  continued,  lulling  at 
intervals,  until  the  niglit  of  the  twelfth. 
On  the  latter  dav,  it  rose  to  the  power  of 
an  appalling  hurricane,  against  which  the 
ship  labored  very  hard.  A  low,  gloomy 
sky  shut  Out  the  sun  by  da}',  and  the  stars 
by  night;  the  sea  did  not  rise  into  waves, 
but  was  one  plain  of  foam,  over  which  a 
heavy  mist  of  spray  was  drivenby  the  force 
of  the  wind.  On  the  morning  of  Friday, 
the  eleventh,  the  ship  was  discovered  to 
have  sprung  a  leak.  This  appears  to  have 
extinguished  the  fires  almost  immediately; 
the  steam  j^umps  Avore,  therefore,  useless, 
and  the  only  hope  was  in  bailing,  as  the 
ship  even  then  was  making  water  very 
fast.  The  passengers  worked  vigorously 
at  the  buckets,  and  at  first  with  so  much 
success  that  the  fires  were  again  litrhted — 
but  only  for  a  few  moments ;  the  water 
returned,  and  extinguished  them  forever. 

So  terrific  was  the  power  of  the  ele- 
ments, that  the  vessel  was  now  completely 
at  the  mercy  of  the  winds  and  waves. 
During  the  whole  of  the  night  of  the 
eleventh,  the  bailing  was  kept  up  with 
unremitting  energy,  but  on  the  morning 
of  the  twelfth,  in  spite  of  all  efforts  to  keep 
her  afloat,  the  ship  was  evidently  sinking 
fast.  The  passengers  continued  to  de- 
mean themselves,  however,  with  the  great- 
est propriety ;  there  was  no  weeping,  no 
exhibition  of  despair,  even  among  the 
women.  At  two  o'clock,  in  the  afternoon, 
a  sail  was  reported  to  windward,  and  in 


about  an  hour  after,  the  brig  Marine,  Cap- 
tain Burt,  of  Roston,  came  up  under  the 
Central  America's  stern.  Boats  were  now 
lowered,  but  two  were  instantly  swamped 
and  destroyed,  the  sea  being  at  a  terrible 
height.  Three  boats  still  remained,  though 
one  of  them  was  in  a  bad  condition.  At 
four  o'clock  the  work  of  removing  the 
women  and  children  to  the  deck  of  the 
JNEarine  was  commenced.  The  brig,  how- 
ever, being  much  lighter  than  the  ship, 
had  drifted  two  or  three  miles  to  leeward, 
and  the  boats  were  long  in  making  their 
trips.  After  the  women  and  children  had 
all  been  safely  placed  on  board,  the  chief 
engineer  and  some  fifteen  othei-s  took  the 
boats,  made  for  the  brig,  and  did  not 
return.  It  was  now  dark.  About  two 
hours  before  the  sinking  of  the  ship,  a 
schooner  ran  down  under  her  stern,  but 
could  render  no  assistance  for  want  of 
boats,  just  then.  This  was  the  El  Dorado, 
Captain  Stone,  Avho,  as  stated  by  him, 
supposing  from  Captain  Herndon's  asking 
him  to  lie  by  until  morning,  that  the 
steamer  would  be  kept  afloat  till  that  time, 
made  all  the  preparations  in  his  power  to 
assist.  The  vessels  drifted  ajjart  in  the 
storm,  though  the  lights  from  the  steamer 
were  A'isible  to  the  schooner  until  nearly 
eight  o'clock,  when  they  suddenly  disap- 
peared. Captain  Stone  then  ran  as  near 
the  spot  as  could  be  ascertained,  but  could 
discover  nothing  of  the  steamer. 

Until  within  an  hour  of  the  fatal  event, 
the  passengers  continued  to  bail.  Life- 
preservers  wei'e  then  given  out  to  them. 
Captain  Herndon  stood  upon  the  wheel, 
and  was  heard  to  say,  "  /  ivill  never  leave 
the  sltij).'"  The  final  scene  took  place 
more  suddenly,  and  at  an  earlier  period, 
than  her  unfortunate  passengers  antici- 
pated. All  at  once  the  ship  made  a 
2)lunge  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees, 
and  then  disappeared  forever. 

A  simultaneous  shriek  of  agony  rose 
from  five  hundred  Iniman  voices,  and  five 
hundred  human  beings  were  now  floating 
on  the  bosom  of  the  ocean,  with  no  hope 
but  death. 

About    half-past    one    o'clock,    on    the 


GEEAT  AND  MEMOKABLE  EVEXXS. 


C.37 


morning  of  the 
thirteenth,  t  h  e 
Norwegian  hark 
Ellen  came  run- 
ning down  with  a  free  wind.  The  cries  of 
distress  from  the  Central  America's  pas- 
sengers were  heard,  and  the  Ellen  hove-to 
under  short  sail.  And  now  the  task  of  res- 
cuing those  who  had  heen  ahle  to  survive 
in  the  water  for  some  five  hours  was  com- 
menced, and,  hy  nine  o'clock  in  the  fore- 
noon, thirty-one  men  were  rescued.  Dili- 
gent search  was  made  until  twelve  o'clock, 
hut  no  more  survivors  could  he  seen,  so  the 
Ellen  hore  awaj^  for  Norfolk,  where  the 
passengers  rescued  hy  her,  as  well  as 
those  taken  off  hy  the  Marine,  were  placed 
on  hoard  the  steamer  Empire  City,  and 
conveyed  to  New  York.  Out  of  a  total  of 
five  hundred  and  seventy-nine  persons  on 
board — four  hundred  and  seventy-four  pas- 
sengers and  a  crew  of  one  hundred  and 
five — only  one  hundred  and  fiftj'-two  were 
saved.  Captain  Herndon,  the  brave  com- 
mander, stood  courageously  at  his  post  to 
t!ie  last,  and  went  down  with  his  noble 
vessel.  He  was  one  of  the  most  brilliant 
officers  in  the  American  naval  service, 
distinguished  himself  in  the  Mexican 
war,  assisted  for  some  years  in  the  con- 


duct of  the  national  observatory  at 
Washington,  and  in  1851-2  explored  the 
Amazon  river,  under  the  direction  of  the 
United  States  government. 

Among  the  thrilling  narratives  of  the 
wreck  and  of  their  own  personal  suffer- 
ings, given  by  some  of  the  passengers, 
that  by  Mr.  George  furnishes  an  idea  of 
the  terrors  of  a  night  on  the  waves.  Mr. 
George  was  one  of  the  hundreds  who  had 
su2:)plied  themselves  with  life-preservers, 
pieces  of  plank,  etc.,  and  preferred  to 
await  the  ship's  going  down  to  leajting 
overboard  in  anticipation  of  her  fate. 
When  she  went  down  stern  foremost,  after 
giving  three  lurches  that  made  every  tim- 
ber quiver,  and  which  were  to  every  quak- 
ing heart  as  the  throes  that  instantl}-^  pre- 
ceded her  dissolution,  he  was  dragged, 
with  the  rest  on  board  of  her,  some  twenty- 
five  feet  below  the  surface.  He  heard  no 
shriek — nothing  but  the  seething  rush 
and  hiss  of  waters  that  closed  above  her  as 
she  hurried,  almost  with  the  speed  of  an 
arrow,  to  her  ocean  bed.  Night  had 
closed  in  before  the  vessel  sank,  and  he 
was  sucked  in  by  the  whirlpool  caused  by 
her  swift  descent,  to  a  depth  that  was 
seemingly  unfathomable,  and  into  a  dark- 
ness that  he  had  never  dreamed  of.     Com- 


638 


OUH  riEST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


pared  with  it,  the  blackest  night,  without 
moon  or  star,  was  as  the  broad  noonday. 
He  was  rather  stunned  than  stifled,  and 
his  sensations  on  coming  to  the  surface 
were  ahnost  as  painful,  from  their  reaction, 
as  those  which  he  endured  at  the  greatest 
depth  to  which  he  sank.  When  he  became 
conscious,  after  the  lapse  of  a  minute  or 
two,  he  could  distinguish  every  object 
around  him  for  a  considerable  distance. 
The  waves,  as  they  rose  and  fell,  revealed 
a  crowd  of  human  heads.  Those  unfortu- 
nates who  had  lost  their  life-preservers  or 
planks  while  under  water,  owing  to  the 
force  of  the  whirlpoool,  were  frantically 
snatching  at  the  broken  pieces  of  the 
wreck,  which,  breaking  from  the  ship  as 
she  continued  to  descend,  leaped  above  the 
surface,  and  fell  back  with  a  heavy  splash. 
Then  cries  arose  that  mingled  into  one 
inarticulate  wail,  and  then  the  lustier  and 
less  terrified  shouted  for  assistance  to  the 
Marine,  which  was  far  beyond  hailing  dis- 
tance. The  waves  dashed  tliem  one 
against  another  at  first,  but  speedily  they 
began  to  separate,  and  tlie  last  farewells 
were  taken.  One  man  called  to  another, 
in  Mr.  George's  hearing — 

"7/"  you  are  saved,  Frank,  send  my  love 
to  my  dear  wife  !  " 

But,  alas !  the  friend  appealed  to  an- 
swered only  with  a  gurgle  of  the  throat, 
for  he  was  washed  off  his  plank,  and  per- 
ished as  his  companion  spoke.  Many  were 
desirous  of  separating  themselves  as  far  as 
possible  from  tlie  rest,  being  fearful  lest 
some  desperate  straggler  miglit  seize  hold 
of  them,  and  draw  them  under.  Otliers, 
afraid  of  their  loneliness,  called  to  their 
neighbors  to  keep  together.  Generally, 
they  strove  to  cheer  each  other  as  long  as 
they  rerarained  within  hearing,  and  when 
the  roar  of  the  waves  drowned  all  but  the 
loudest  shouting,  the  call  of  friendship  or 
the  cry  of  des[)air  was  heard  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  infused  confidence  or  increased 
dismay  in  many  a  bosom. 

It  was  when  he  had  drifted  far  from  the 
companionship  of  any  of  his  fellows  in 
misfortune,  tliat  Mr.  George  began  to  real- 
ize his   situation.     The    night   was   quite 


dark.  Occasionally,  as  the  driving  clouds 
parted  and  gave  a  glimpse  of  sky,  a  star  or 
two  would  be  visible,  but  this  was  very 
seldom,  and  offered  but  the  faintest  gleam 
of  hope  that  the  morning  would  dawn  fair 
and  calm.  The  swell  of  the  sea  was  great, 
and  successively  the  poor  floaters,  holding 
on  to  their  planks  with  the  energy  of 
despair,  were  riding  on  the  brink  of  a 
precipice  and  buried  in  a  deep  valle}^  of 
water.  Many  of  the  poor  creatures  were 
also  seized  with  the  fear  of  sharks.  Res- 
piration, too,  was  very  difficult,  owing  to 
the  masses  of  water  which  were  constantly 
dashed  upon  the  strugglers,  as  wave  after 
wave  rolled  b}'.  For  two  or  three  hours, 
the  water  was  not  unpleasantly  cold,  and 
it  was  not  until  Sunday  morning,  and  a 
fresh,  chilling  wind  arose,  that  their  limbs 
began  to  feel  benumbed. 

Some  of  the  incidents  that  occurred  in 
connection  with  a  shipwreck  attended  with 
such  wholesale  loss  of  life,  were  sad  in- 
deed. One  man,  floating  in  solitude,  and 
terrified  at  his  loneliness,  after  shouting 
himself  hoarse  to  find  a  companion,  saw  at 
length  a  man  with  two  life-preservers 
fastened  about  his  body  drifting  toward 
him.  His  heart  leaped  with  joj-  at  the 
welcome  sight,  for  the  feeling  of  desolation 
which  had  overcome  him  was  terrible  to 
endure.  He  called  to  the  other  to  join 
him  if  possible,  and  made  every  exertion 
to  meet  him  half-way.  There  was  no 
reply,  but  the  other  drifted  nearer  and 
nearer.  A  Avave  threw  them  together. 
They  touched.  Tlie  living  man  shrieked 
in  the  face  of  a  corpse!  The  other  had 
been  drowned  by  the  dash  of  the  billows, 
or  had  perished  from  exhaustion. 

When,  rising  and  falling  with  the  swell 
of  the  waves,  the  lights  of  the  bark  Ellen 
were  first  discerned  by  the  survivors  in  the 
water,  the  thrill  of  hoi)e  that  at  once  filled 
every  breast  amounted,  it  may  well  be 
believed,  to  a  perfect  ecstasy,  Mr.  George 
says:  "I  never  felt  so  thankful  in  all  my 
life.  I  never  knew  what  gratitude  was 
before.  I  do  not  know  whether  I  cried  or 
not,  but  I  know  I  was  astonished  to  hear 
my  own  laughter  ringing  in  ni}-  ears.     I 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


639 


do  not  know  why  I  laughed.  That  verse, 
*  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way,'  kept 
passing  in  and  out  of  me — through  me, 
ratlier,  as  if  I  had  been  the  pipe  of  an 
organ.  It  did  not  come  to  me  by  my  own 
volition,  but  somehow  made  me  remember 
it.  When  the  lights  approached  nearer,  a 
score  of  voices  sprang  up  around  me, 
crying,  'Ship  ahoijl'  ^ Boat  alioij!'  and 
then  I  began  to  shout  too.  And  I  had 
never  any  doubt  that  I  should  be  saved 
till  I  saw  the  lights  pass  by,  about  half  a 
mile  from  where  I  was,  and  recede  in  the 
distance.     Then  I  began  to  give  myself  up 


was  hailed  by  Captain  Herndon,  and  told 
of  the  desperate  situation  of  affairs.  The 
captain  of  the  brig  said  he  would  do  for 
them  all  that  he  could,  and  brought  his 
vessel  close  under  the  steamer's  stern,  the 
distance  between  the  two  vessels  immedi- 
ately increasing.  The  captain  at  once 
called  the  ladies,  and  told  them  to  prepare 
to  get  into  the  boats.  But  to  get  in  was 
a  difficult  matter,  as  the  waves  were  so 
high.  However,  a  noose  was  made  in  a 
rope,  and  a  lady  seated  herself  in  it,  hold- 
ing on  to  the  rope  at  the  same  time,  when 
she    was    lowered    safely   into   the    boat. 


VICTIMS  OF  THE  CENTRAL  AMERICA. 


for  lost  indeed.  But  I  slowly  drifted 
toward  her  again,  till  I  could  make  out  her 
hull  and  one  of  her  masts,  and  presently  I 
floated  close  to  her,  and  shouted,  and  was 
taken  up.  When  I  got  on  the  deck  I 
could  not  stand.  I  did  not  know  till  then 
how  exhausted  I  was."  He  was  one  of 
the  few  who  were  rescued  at  the  last 
moment. 

The  statement  made  by  one  of  the  lady 
passengers,  Mrs.  Birch,  was,  that,  at  about 
noon,  of  Saturday,  when  they  had  almost 
given  up  hope,  the  brig  Marine  was  seen 
at  some  little  distance  off,  bearing  rapidly 
down   toward  the   Central   America;    she 


This  process  was  repeated  with  all,  but 
many  got  saturated  —  for,  just  as  they 
would  be  ready  to  get  in,  a  large  wave 
would  come,  sway  the  boat  from  the  ves- 
sel's side,  and  of  course  the  lady  would 
descend  into  the  water.  One  lady  had 
this  experience  two  or  three  times,  but  in 
the  end  they  were  scarcely  worse  off  than 
the  rest,  for,  as  they  were  being  conveyed 
to  the  brig,  the  waves  dashed  over  the. 
boat  and  drenched  them  all  thoroughl}^ 
A  man,  who  was  one  of  the  stewards,  got 
in,  as  he  said,  to  help  row  the  boat,  but  he 
did  not  understand  the  work,  and  the 
sailors  made  him  lie  down  in  the  bottom  of 


640 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.^17.76-1876. 


the  boat ;  the  boat  was  rowed,  by  four 
men,  and  steered  by  the  boatswain  of  the 
sliip.  Chief-Engineer  Ashb}'  superintended 
getting  the  passengers  into  the  boat.  All 
■who  were  rescued  by  the  brig  were  on 
board  by  six  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
Toward  evening,  seeing  a  schooner  close 
under  the  bow  of  the  steamer,  all  anxiety 
was  dismissed,  in  regard  to  the  friends  who 
had  been  left  behind.  It  soon  became 
dark,  and  nothing  was  ever  seen  again  of 
the  sinking  steamer.  On  board  the  Ma- 
rine— a  very  small  vessel,  with  a  cabin 
scarcely  larger  than  an  ordinary  state- 
room on  a  steamer — there  were  thirty-one 
women,  twenty-six  children,  and  forty-one 
men,  all  being  very  much  crowded.  The 
vessel  had  also  lost  part  of  her  foremast 
and  bowsprit,  and  was  peculiarly  unsuited 
to  accommodate  such  a  company ;  they 
slejDt,  therefore,  on  the  top  of  the  deck 
cabins,  using  the  spare  sails  for  beds. 
Some  of  the  women  had  no  clothes  to  cover 
their  children,  and  they  took  the  sheets 
and  made  them  into  garments. 

Bat  the  most  remarkable  individual 
experience,  in  this  terrible  catastrophe, 
was  that  of  Alexander  Grant,  one  of  the 
firemen  of  the  ill-fated  steamer.  Though 
but  a  3'oung  man,  this  was  the  foicrfh  time 
he  had  been  lorecked,  escaping  only 
through  great  hardship  and  peril.  When 
a,  boy,  on  a  Fall  River  schooner,  he  was 
wrecked  in  tlie  Bay  of  Fundy,  and  barely 
saved  his  life.  Subsequently,  he  was  fire- 
man on  the  Collins  steamer  Arctic,  and 
when  that  vessel  went  down,  he  was  left 
floating  on  a  piece  of  timber,  in  tlio  broad 
Atlantic;  after  several  days  of  intense 
suffering,  he  was  picked  up  by  the  ship 
Cambria,  and  carried  with  Captain  Luce 
to  Quebec.  Afterwards,  he  became  fire- 
man on  the  steamship  Crescent  City,  and 
when  tliat  vessel  went  ashore  on  the  Ba- 
hamas liad  a  third  most  narrow  escape 
with  his  life.  Still  lie  did  not  quit  the 
sea,  but  engaged  again  as  fireman  on 
board  the  Central  America,  and  was  on  her 
when  she  went  down.  Just  as  the  steamer 
was  sinking,  he,  with  nine  others,  got 
upon  a  piece  of  the  hurricane  deck  which 


they  had  previously  cut  clear,  and,  when 
the  vessel  sank,  the  remnant  floated  off 
Avith  them. 

And  now,  with  the  energy  inspired  by 
hope,  they  held  on  to  the  raft  by  rope.'-, 
but  the  sea  washed  over  them  constant!}-, 
causing  them  to  swallow  a  large  quantity 
of  salt  water.  They  spent  that  night  on 
the  raft,  praying  and  hoping  for  relief. 
When  day  broke,  they  could  set  the  brig 
Marine,  a  long  Avaj^  off;  but,  although 
they  made  every  effort  to  attract  the  atten- 
tion of  her  people,  they  were  not  seen. 
.Without  food  or  water,  on- a  few  frail 
planks  in  the  3'awning  ocean,  these  ten 
endured  unutterable  sufferings.  All  day 
and  night,  they  saw  others  struggling 
around  them  in  the  angry  waters ;  but 
although  they  eagerly  scanned  the  horizon, 
no  friendly  sail  hove  in  sight.  As  the 
darkness  stole  on,  their  hopes  sank,  and 
many  of  the  poor  creatures,  famished  and 
thirst}-,  and  sorely  buffeted  by  the  waves, 
grew  delirious.  Some  swore  and  raved  in 
their  insanit}'' ;  others  babbled  of  cool  and 
limpid  springs,  whose  clear  waters  flowed 
mockingly  at  their  feet, — or  dreamed  of 
rich  feasts,  to  which  they  were  invited, 
spread  before  their  famished  eyes,  but 
from  which  they  were  withheld  hy  a  super- 
human pawer. 

During  Sunday  night,  eight  of  the  ten 
persons  on  the  raft,  worn  out  b}-  their  suf- 
ferings, were  washed  off,  and  drowned. 
On  Monday  morning,  the  same  cheerless 
prospect  greeted  the  survivors.  In  a  short 
time,  they  floated  near  apiece  of  plank,  on 
which  was  a  colored  passenger  from  the 
steamer,  George  W.  Dawson  by  name. 
He  was  helped  on  to  the  raft;  and  toward 
evening  a  second  man  was  picked  nj). 
Time  wore  on  slowly  and  painfully,  with- 
out hope  or  relief,  and  death  was  fast 
drawing  nigh  unto  all  of  them.  The  raft 
had  now  become  so  light,  however,  owing 
to  the  number  who  had  been  swept  off, 
tliat  the  remaining  survivors  could  kneel, 
the  water  being  barely  a  foot  deeji ;  and 
in  this  kneeling  position,  they  contrived 
for  a  wliile  to  sleep.  On  Tuesday,  they 
fell  in  with  a  passenger  who  was  floating 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVEISTTS. 


641 


on  a  part  of  what  was  once  the  captain's 
room.  They  offered  him  a  place  on  tlieir 
raft,  but  he  declared  that  he  was  better  off 
as  he  was,  as  he  could  paddle  himself 
round,  and  pick  up  anything  he  saw. 
Next  day,  two  of  the  four  tenants  of  the 
raft  became  deranged  and  fell  off,  leaving 
only  Grant  and  Dawson. 

It  was   now   the   fifth   day  of  Grant's 
hapless    and    suffering     condition,    as    a 
drifter  upon  the  wide  ocean.     On  this  day, 
as  he  narrates,  "  I  saw  a  boat  three  miles 
off,  but  could  not  tell  whether  there  was 
any  one  in  it  or  not,  but  thought  there 
was.     I  resolved,  therefore,  to  reach  it  if 
possible,  and  accordingly  I  divested  myself 
of  all  but  my  underclothing,   and  tying  a 
life-preserver  around  me,   I  jumped  into 
the  sea  and  swam  toward  the  boat  with  all 
my  might.     I  cannot  say  how  long  I  was 
before   I   finally   reached   the   boat;    but 
before  I  got  to  her  I   discovered  a  man 
sitting  down  and  trying  to  scull  the  boat 
toward  me.     On  reaching  the  side  of  the 
boat,    the   man    (who  proved    to  be    Mr. 
Tiee,)   helped  me  in.       The  boat,  wliich, 
when   secured   by  Mr.   Tice,    was  full  of 
water,  had  been  bailed  out  by  him  through 
the  aid  of  a  bucket  and  tin  pan  which  he 
had  found  iu  it,  in  addition  to  three  oars 
in  good  order,  which  had  remained  in  the 
boat  after  being  swamped.     The  hole  in 
the  bottom  of  the  boat  for  allowing  the 
water  to  drain  out  on  being  taken  on  board 
ship,  and  which  was  open  on  being  discov- 
ered by  Mr.  Tice,  had  been  plugged  up  by 
him  by  a  thole-pin,  so  that  when  I  got 
into  her  she  was  in  fine  trim.     Mr.  Tice 
and  myself  immediately  pulled  the  boat  as 
fast  as  possible  to  the  hurricane  deck,  and 
took  Mr.  Dawson  in.     He  was  as  strong 
as  either  of  us,  as  we  had  all  been  without 
food  from  twelve  o'clock  at  noon  of  the 
Saturday  before,  and  were  completely  ex- 
hausted, as  we  had   been    incessantly  at 
work  for  some  thirty-six  hours  before  the 
ship  went  down,  in  trying  to  save  her,  and 
none  of  us  had  cared  to  eat  but  a  very 
little    during    that   time.      After   taking 
Dawson  on  board,  we  allowed  the  boat  to 
drift  with  the  wind  to  seaward,  not  being 
41 


able  to  help  ourselves  if  we  had  wished, 
and  not  knowing  which  way  to  pull."  On 
Sunday,  the  eighth  day  of  the  shipwreck, 
a  sail  was  seen ;  but  after  tantalizing  the 
poor  sufferers  for  a  couple  of  hours,  she 
disappeared  in  the  far  distance. 

It  was  not   until    the  ninth  da}',   that 
relief   came    to   these   unfortunates.       "I 
left  the  ship,"  says  Mr.  Tice,  "  on  a  board, 
just  as  she  went  down.     I  had  no  life-pre- 
server, and  had  no  time  to  get  one.     I  saw 
others  with  them  on,  struggling   in   the 
water;  they  seemed  to  do  but  little  good. 
The  last  object  I  saw  was  Captain  Hern- 
don,  as  the  ship  was  sinking.     I  drifted 
away  from  the  others  almost  immediately, 
and  was  three  days  on  that  board,  expect- 
ing every  moment  to  be  my  last.     On  the 
third  day,  I  fell  in  with  a  boat,  which  was 
about  half  full  of  water.     I  swam  to  it,  got 
in  with  great  difficulty,  and  succeeded  in 
bailing  out  the  water.     I  was  two  days  in 
the  boat  when  I  fell  in  with  a  portion  of 
the  hurricane  deck,  and  two  men.  Grant 
and  Dawson,  succeeded  in  getting  into  the 
boat  with  me.     We  floated  around  till  the 
ninth  day,  when  we  were  picked  up  by 
the  brig  Mary.      All    that   time  we   had 
nothing  to  eat,  and  not  a  drop  of  fresh 
water.     Most   of   the   time,  the    sea   was 
breaking    over    the    boat.       "We    suffered 
everj'thing    but   death.      No    man    could 
describe    what   we    endured."      Grateful, 
beyond  expression,   were   these  famished 
and  wasted  men,  for  the  kindness  of  the 
"good  old  Scotch  captain  of  the   Mary," 
who,  after  taking   them    into   the   cabin, 
removed  their  clothing  and  gave  them  a 
sip   of   wine,    and    afterward    water   and 
gruel,  gradually  increasing  the  amount,  as 
they  were  able  to  take  the  same  without 
injury.     They  were  found    to   have  been 
severely    bruised,    and    exposure    to   the 
action  of  salt  water  had  produced  boils  all 
over  their  persons. 

In  the  labor  of  pumping  out  the  Central 
America,  to  prevent  her  from  sinking,  the 
men  became  excessively  wearied,  and  it 
gradually  wore  them  out.  When,  there- 
fore, the  ladies  found  that  the  men  could 
not  hold  out  much  longer,  some  of  them 


642 


OUR  riEST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


proposed  to  work  themselves  at  the  pumps. 
But  they  were  cot  suffered  to  do  this. 
The  men  took  fresh  courage  and  staid  at 
tlieir  posts,  doing  their  duty  bravely,  even 
when  they  were  long  past  fit  for  it.  The 
ladies  were  in  no  worse  spirits  toward  the 
end  than  they  w^ere  at  the  beginning  of 
the  danger ;  in  fact,  they  all  appeared  to 
grow  more  and  more  calm  and  resigned  as 
matters  progressed.  Those  who  had  no 
young  children  to  take  care  of,  and  to  be 
anxious  for,  were  quite  as  brave  and  hope- 
ful as  the  men.  One  of  the  sex, — a  mother 
witli  two  babes — writing  on  this  and  kin- 
dred points,  says:  "A  few  of  the  ladies 
showed  no  signs  of  fear,  and  kept  up  to 
the  last.  It  was  wonderful  to  see  their 
composure.  In  fact,  it  was  wonderful  that 
we  were  not  all  frantic.  We  were  all  weak 
and  reduced,  from  having  nothing  to  eat, 
of  any  consequence,  for  two  days  before 
the  ship  went  down.  There  was  no  fire  to 
cook  anything,  and  there  was  no  chance  to 
get  any  hearty,  sustaining  food.  We 
hardly  had  water  to  drink.  Some  of  the 
men,  at  work,  became  so  exhausted,  that 
they  dropped  down  in  their  places,  as  if 
they  were  dead.  In  transferring  the  ladies 
from  the  steamer  to  the  brig,  it  was  my 
lot  to  go  with  the  third  boat.  The  sea 
was  very  violent,  and  the  prospect  of  out- 
riding it  in  such  a  little  frail  craft  Avas 
terrible.  Before  going  off,  I  put  on  a  life- 
preserver,  which  was  the  only  preparation 
I  could  make  for  my  escape,  but  neither 
the  life-boat  nor  the  life-preserver  seemed 
like  safety;  for  it  is  impossloie  to  describe 
the  roughness  of  the  Avaves,  and  the  brig 
was  a  great  way  off.  The  rope-noose  was 
tied  around  mc,  and  was  swung  out  over 
the  water  into  the  boat.  Tlie  life-boat 
could  not  come  ciose  to  the  side  of  the 
steamer,  and  we  all  had  to  take  our  chance 
to  jump  at  it.  Some  of  the  ladies  fell  two 
or  three  times  into  the  sea  before  they 
could  be  got  into  the  boat.  One  of  them, 
the  stewardess,  fell  in  three  times,  and 
once  was  pinched  between  the  boat  and 
the  side  of  the  steamer.  A  heavy  wave 
dashed  the  boat  against  the  ship,  and 
struck    the   poor   woman    a   severe   blow. 


After  I  got  safely  into  the  little  boat,  and 
my  two  babes  with  me,  I  had  but  little 
hope  of  getting  to  the  brig.  The  peril 
then  seemed  to  be  greater  than  ever ;  but, 
as  the  ship  Avas  in  a  sinking  condition,  the 
only  hope  seemed  to  be  in  attempting  even 
this  dangerous  escape  from  her.  The 
water  dashed  into  the  boat,  and  Ave  had  to 
keep  dipping  it  out  all  the  time.  Two 
high  Avaves  j^assed  entirely  over  us,  so 
that  it  seemed  as  if  Ave  Avere  swamped 
and  sunk  ;  but  the  boat  recoA^ered  from 
them  both."  After  a  two  hours'  row 
from  the  steamer  to  the  brig,  this  brave 
Avoman,  with  her  tAvo  little  babes,  caught 
hold  Avith  one  hand,  and  hung  for  some 
minutes  over  the  vessel's  side,  till  the 
men  on  deck  caught  hold  of  her  and  pulled 
her  in. 

According  to  the  statements  made  by 
many  of  the  survivors,  there  was  seldom 
so  large  an  amount  of  money  owned  by 
passengers  as  Avas  the  case  Avith  those  avIio 
came  by  the  Central  America,  and  the 
quantity  of  treasure  on  board  was,  conse- 
quently, far  greater  than  the  one  and  a 
half  to  two  millions  named  on  the  freight 
list.  Many,  indeed,  Avere  persons  of  large 
means,  and  there  Avere  but  fcAv  whose 
immediate  Avealth  did  not  amount  to  hun- 
dreds, AA'hile  numbers  reckoned  their  gold 
by  the  thousands  of  dollars.  The  greater 
portion  of  the  passengers  Avere  returned 
miners,  some  on  their  way  to  invest  the 
capital  they  had  realized,  in  hopes  to  liA'e 
a  life  of  greater  ease  as  the  result  of  their 
industi}^,  and  others  to  get  their  families 
and  once  more  go  to  the  land  of  gold. 
But,  as  the  storm  continued  to  rage,  less 
and  less  Avas  thought  of  gold,  and  when,  on 
Saturday,  it  became  evident  tliat  they 
were  likely  at  any  moment  to  be  buried 
beneath  the  Avaves,  Avealthy  men  divested 
themselves  of  their  treasure  belts  and  scat- 
tered the  gold  upon  the  cabin  tloors,  tell- 
ing those  to  take  it  who  would,  lest  its 
Aveight  about  their  persons — a  fcAV  extra 
ounces  or  pounds — should  carry  them  to 
their  death.  Full  purses,  containing  in 
some  instances  thousands  of  dollars,  lay 
around    untouched.       Carpet -bags     were 


GREAT  AND  ^lEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


643 


opened,  and  the  shining  metal  was  poured 
out  on  the  floor  with  the  prodigality  of 
death's  despair.  One  of  the  passengers 
opened  a  bag  and  dashed  about  the  cabin 
twenty  thousand  dolhirs  in  gold  dust,  and 
told  him  who  wanted  to  gratify  his  greed 
for  gold  to  take  it.  But  it  was  passed  by 
untouched,  as  the  veriest  dross. 

The    praises  of  all  who   survived  were 
unmeasured  in  laudation  of  Captain  Hern- 


don's  gallant  and  heroic  conduct,  and  their 
sorrow,  as  well  as  that  of  the  country  at 
large,  over  his  death,  was  most  profound. 
His  best  eulogy  was  that  pronounced  by 
her  who  knew  him  best.  His  wife,  on 
being  told  of  the  loss  of  the  steamer,  and 
that  possibly  the  commander  was  saved, 
instantly  replied  :  "No  ;  if  any  one  is  lost 
he  is  lost,  for  he  would  save  every  one 
before  he  could  think  of  himself ! " 


LXXY. 

TERRIBLE   CRISIS   IN   THE   BUSINESS   AND   FINANCIAL 

WORLD.— 1857. 


Known  as  "  the  Great  Panic." — A  Sudden,  Universal  Crash  in  the  Height  of  Prosperity. — Caused  by 
Wild  Speculations  and  Enormous  Debt. — Suspension  of  Banks  all  Over  the  Country — Failure  of  the 
Oldest  and  Wiaithiest  Houses — Fortunes  Swept  Away  in  a  Day. — Prostration  of  Every  Branch  of 
Industry. — Prolonged  Enibarra.ssment,  Distrust,  and  SufTering  —  i'he  Panic  of  1837  a  Comparison  — 
Extravagance  and  High  Prices. — Chimerical  Railroad  Schemes. — Mania  for  Land  Investments  — 
Reckless  Stock  Gambling. — Western  Paper  Cities — Fabulous  Prices  for  "  Lots." — Money  Absorbed 
in  tliis  Way. — Bursting  of  the  Bubble. — The  First  Great  Blow. — A  Bomb  in  Money  Circles — Wide- 
spread Shock  and  Terror. — Fierce  Crowds  at  the  Banks. — A  Run  Upon  Them  for  Specie. — They 
"  Goto  the  Wall." — Savings  Bank  Excitement — Rare  Doings  at  the  Counters. — Wit,  Mirth,  Despnir, 
and  Huin. — Forty  Thousand  Persons  in  Wall  Street. — Factories,  Foundries,  etc.,  Stopped. —  Business 
Credit  Destroyed. — Root  of  the  Whole  Difficulty. 


"  The  tnoBt  extraordinary,  violent,  and  destructive  panic  ever  eixperierced  in  this  country."— Oibdons's  IIistort  or  Banks  a»» 
Baneino. 


ANY  persons   will   recall,   even  at  this 
remote  lapse   of  time,  the  terrible   com- 
BUN  ON  A  BANK.  Hiercial  and    business  revnlsion    which 

preceded,  by  just  a  score  of  years,  that  more  general  and  calamitous  one  of  1857, — the 
latter  being  universally  known  to  this  day  as  ''the  Great  Panic."  During  the  first- 
named,  every  bank  in  the  Union  failed  and  suspended  specie  payment,  with  a  comj)ar- 
atively  few  exceptions.  Extravagance  pervaded  all  classes  of  society,  and  so  genera? 
and  feverish  was  the  excitement  in  western  lands'  speculation,  that  men  grasped  at 
'lots'  in  that  boundless  and  then  almost  untracked  region,  as  if  the  supply  was  about 
to  be  exhausted.  Indeed,  the  picture  is  but  slightly  if  at  all  overdrawn,  which  repre- 
sents the  land  mania  of  that  period  as  swallowing  up,  in  its  mad  whirl,  all  classes. 
The  "man  of  one  idea"  was  visible  everywhere;  no  man  had  two.  He  who  had  no 
money  begged,  borrowed,  dr  stole  it ;  he  who  had,  thought  he  made  a  generous  sacri- 
fice, if  he  lent  it  cent  per  cent.     The   tradesman   forsook  his   shop  ;    the   farmer  his 


GREAT  AND  ME:M0IIABLE  EVENTS. 


645 


plough ;  the  merchant  his  counter ;  tlie 
lawyer  liis  office  ;  tlie  clergyman  his  study 

to   join    the    general    cliase.     The  man 

Avitli  one  leg,  or  he  that  had  none,  could 
at  least  get  on  hoard  a  steamer,  and  make 
for  Chicago  or  Milwaukee;  the  strong,  the 
able,  but  above  all,  the  "  enterprising," 
set  out  with  his  pocket  map  and  his  pocket 
compass,  to  thread  the  dim  woods,  and  see 
with  his  own  eyes, — for  who  could  be  so 
demented  as  to  waste  time  in  planting,  in 
building,  in  hammering  iron,  in  making 
shoes,  when  tlie  path  of  wealth  la}'  wide 
and  flowery  before  him  !  A  ditcher,  hired 
by  the  job  to  do  a  certain  piece  of  work  in 
his  line,  was  asked — 

"  Well,  John,  did  you  make  anything  ?  " 

"  Pretty  well ;  I  cleared  about  ten  dol- 
lars a  day,  but  I  could  have  made  more  by 
standin'  round" — that  is,  watching  the 
land  market,  for  bargains. 

The  host  of  travelers  on  their  western 
speculating  tours  met  with  many  difficul- 
ties, as  might  be  supposed.  Such  search- 
ing among  trees  for  town  lines  ! — such 
ransacking  of  the  woods  for  section  cor- 
ners, ranges,  and  base  lines ! — such  anxious 
care  in  identifying  spots  possessing  "  par- 
ticular advantages!"  And  then,  alas! 
after  all,  such  precious  blunders,  —  blun- 
ders which  called  into  action  another  class 
of  operators,  who  became  popularly  known 
as  "  land  lookers."  These  were  plentiful 
at  every  turn,  ready  to  furnish  "  water- 
power,"  ''pine  lots,"  or  anything  else,  at 
a  moment's  notice.  It  was  impossible  to 
mention  any  part  of  the  country  which 
they  had  not  "personally  surveyed." 
They  would  state,  with  the  gravity  of 
astrologers,  what  sort  of  timber  predomi- 
nated on  any  given  tract,  drawing  sage 
deductions  as  to  the  capabilities  of  the 
soil !  Did  the  purchaser  incline  to  city 
property  ?  Lo  !  a  splendid  chart,  setting 
forth  the  advantages  of  some  unequaled 
site. 

But  at  last  this  bubble  burst — thousands 
of  fortunes  vanished  into  thin  air — the 
crisis  and  the  panic  came  like  a  whirl- 
wind. 

Similar  was  the  state  of  things  preced- 


ing the  awful  crash  in  1857.  The  times 
were  characterized  by  excessive  debts  and 
almost  incredible  extravagance  and  specu- 
lations. The  cities,  and  many  parts  of  the 
country,  were  drained  of  means  for  legiti- 
mate purposes,  being  devoted,  instead,  to 
the  construction  of  unproductive  railroads, 
or  absorbed  in  western  land  speculations. 
The  new  territories,  and  some  parts  of  the 
Avestern  states,  were  almost  covered  with 
paper  cities,  selling  to  the  credulous  at 
almost  fabulous  prices.  In  Kansas  alone, 
where  scarcely  one  legal  title  had  as  yet 
been  granted,  there  were  more  acres  laid 
out  for  cities,  than  Avere  covered  by  all  the 
cities  in  the  northern  and  middle  states. 
Nearly  the  whole  west  swarmed  with  spec- 
ulators, who  neither  intended  to  cultivate 
the  soil  nor  settle  there,  but  who  expected 
to  realize  fortunes,  without  labor,  out  of 
the  bona  fide  settler.  Lots  in  "  cities," 
where  was  scarcely  a  house,  were  sold  to 
the  inexperienced  and  the  unwary,  at 
I)rices  equaling  those  in  the  large  cities. 
These  operations,  with  others  of  a  similarly 
chimerical  character,  made  money  scarce 
everywhere,  and  diverted  thousands  of 
men,  and  much  of  the  capital  of  the  coun- 
try, from  the  business  of  producing, — 
tending,  of  course,  to  extravagant  prices 
of  food. 

But  the  omens  of  disaster  began  to  cast 
their  spectral  shadows  athwart  the  finan- 
cial sky,  the  first  manifestation  being  a 
regular  decline  in  the  value  of  leading 
railroad  stocks,  especially  the  western 
roads.  But  the  first  great  blow  to  public 
confidence  was  given  by  the  unexpected 
failure,  in  August,  of  the  Ohio  Life  Insur- 
ance and  Trust  Company.  The  magni- 
tude and  importance  of  the  operations  of 
this  institution  throughout  the  country, 
amounting  to  millions  of  dollars,  and  in- 
volving so  many  individuals  and  corpora- 
tions, rendered  its  suspension  a  fearful 
disaster.  The  announcement  fell  like  a 
bomb  in  the  money  circles,  and,  by  the 
first  or  second  week  of  September,  banks 
and  business  houses  began  to  stop  pay- 
ment, and  a  panic  ensued,  which  became 
almost  universal  during  the  month.     The 


646 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


best  mercantile  paper  was  at  a  discount  of 
from  three  to  five  per  cent,  a  month. 
Toward  the  close  of  the  month  three  of 
the  leading  banks  of  Philadelphia  failed, 
and  the  remainder  resolved  upon  a  tempo- 
rary suspension  of  specie  payments.  This 
was  followed  by  a  siniilar  step  on  the  part 
of  most  of  the  banks  of  Pennsylvania, 
Maryland,  the  District  of  Columbia,  and 
New  Jersey. 

No  such  intense  excitement  had  ever 
before  prevailed  in  Philadelphia,  as  that 
which  reigned  when  the  bank  of  Pennsyl- 


being  nearly  two  million  dollars.  Very 
early  on  the  same  day,  the  Girard  and 
Commercial  banks  ceased  paying  their  de- 
posits, but  continued  to  pay  their  bills. 
Checks  were  marked  good  and  returned  to 
the  holders.  After  three  o'clock,  the  city 
was  full  of  all  sorts  of  rumors,  and,  at  a 
meeting  of  the  bank  presidents,  a  universal 
susjiension  was  agreed  upon.  These  tid- 
ings became  rapidly  known  throughout  the 
towns  and  villages  of  the  state,  and  the 
next  morning  a  vast  number  of  anxious 
people  flocked  into  the  city  by  steam-boat 


EXCITEMENT  IN  BUSINESS  CIRCLES  DURING  TnE  GREAT  PANIC. 


vania  closed  its  doors.  Crowds  of  people 
poured  into  Third  street  from  the  distant 
extremities  of  the  city,  and  the  street 
became  a  perfect  jam,  everybody  who  had 
any  money  in  those  banks  Avhich  had  not 
yet  stopped  specie  pajMuent,  being  in  haste 
to  obtain  their  dues.  From  this  vast  mass 
of  people  there  radiated  lines  reaching  to 
the  counters  of  all  the  banks,  demanding 
coin  for  bills  and  deposits  ;  and  all  the 
various  applicants,  as  they  presented  them- 
selves, received  their  money,  and  retired 
in  good  order.  This  scene  continued  until 
the  hour  of  closing,  the  ainoiint  of  coin 
thus  paid  out,  from  eleven  to  three  o'clock, 


and  railroad.  As  if  unwilling  to  believe 
the  unwelcome  news,  they  gathered  in 
crowds  opposite  the  various  banks,  pa- 
tiently awaiting  the  hour  for  opening. 
All  appeared  bent  on  getting  coin  for  their 
checks  and  bills.  At  ten  o'clock  the  doors 
ojiened,  police  officers  being  everywhere 
about,  to  preserve  order.  Each  customer 
went  up  in  turn,  presented  his  check,  and 
had  it  marked  good ;  while  such  as  held 
bills  were  told  that  the  redemption  of  them 
in  specie  was  temporarily  suspended. 

And  now,  all  over  the  land,  east,  west, 
north,  and  south,  the  dark  days  of  fear, 
alarm,   and   ruin,  settled  down  upon  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


647 


people,  and  panic  raged  like  a  pestilence. 
Indeed,  the  extent  of  the  crash  far  ex- 
ceeiled  what  it  would  have  been,  but  for 
the  shock  and  terror  which  so  needlessly 
possessed  men's  minds  at  the  instant,  and 
unbalanced  their  jiidj;inent.  Universal 
distrust  prevailed — a  loss  of  that  mutual 
confidence  between  man  and  man,  without 
which,  the  foundations  of  mercantile  credit 
are  washed  away  as  so  much  sand,  but 
with  which,  temporary  di faculties,  even 
though  stringent,  may  be  surmounted,  and 
total  ruin  to  individuals  and  the  public 
prevented.  No  more  fitting  illustration  of 
the  working  of  this  principle  of  confidence 
could  be  cited,  in  sustaining  or  overturn- 
ing the  steadiness  of  business  affairs,  than 
the  anecdote  of  the  little  Frenchman  who 
loaned  a  merchant  five  thousand  dollars, 
when  times  were  good,  but  who  called  at 
the  counting-house  on  the  times  becoming 
"hard,"  in  a  state  of  agitation  only  faintly 
portrayed  in  the  following  hasty  colloquy 
which  ensued : 

''How  do  3'ou  do?"  inquired  the  mer- 
chant, as  the  French  creditor  presented 
himself  at  the  counter. 

"  Sick — ver  sick," — replied  monsieur. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  De  times  is  de  matter." 

"  De  times  ? — what  disease  is  that  ?  " 

"  De  malaide  vat  break  all  de  marchants, 
ver  much." 

"All — the  times,  eh?  Well,  they  are 
bad,  very  bad,  sure  enough ;  but  how  do 
they  atfect  you  ?  " 

"Vy,  monsieur,  I  lose  de  confidence." 

"  In  whom  ?  " 

"In  everybody." 

"Not  in  me,  I  hope?" 

"  Pardonnez  moi,  monsieur ;  but  I  do 
not  know  who  to  trust  a  present,  when  all 
de  marchants  break  several  times,  all  to 
pieces." 

"Then  I  presume  you  want  your 
money." 

"Oui,  monsieur,  I  starve  for  want  of 
V argent"  (the  silver). 

"Can't  you  do  without  it  ?  " 

''No,  monsieur,  I  must  have  him." 

"  You  must  ?  " 


"Oui,  monsieur,"  said  little  dimity 
breeches,  turning  pale  with  apprehension 
for  the  safety  of  his  money. 

"  And  you  can't  do  without  it  ?  " 

"No,  monsieur,  not  von  other  leetle 
moment  longare." 

The  merchant  reached  his  bank  book, 
drew  a  check  on  the  good  old  'Continen- 
tal '  for  the  amount,  and  handed  it  to  his 
visitor. 

"  Vat  is  dis,  monsieur  ?  " 

"  A  check  for  five  thousand  dollars,  with 
the  interest." 

"  Is  it  hon  ? "  (good,)  said  the  French- 
man, with  amazement. 

"  Certainly." 

"  Have  you  V argent  in  de  bank  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"And  is  it  parfaitement  convenient  to 
pay  de  same  ?  " 

"  Undoubtedly !  What  astonishes  you  ?  " 

"  Vy,  dat  you  have  got  him  in  dees 
times." 

"  Oh,  3'es,  and  I  have  plenty  more.  I 
owe  nothing  that  I  cannot  pay  at  a  mo- 
ment's notice." 

The  Frenchman  was  perplexed. 

"  Monsieur,  you  shall  do  me  von  leetle 
favor,  eh  ?  " 

"  With  all  my  heart." 

"Well,  monsieur,  you  shall  keep  V ar- 
gent for  me  some  leetle  year  longare." 

"  Why,  I  thought  you  wanted  it !  " 

"Tout  nu  coatraire.  I  no  vant  de 
argent.  I  vant  de  grand  confidence. 
Suppose  you  no  got  de  money,  den  I  vant 
him  ver  much — suppose  you  got  him,  den 
I  no  vant  him  at  all.  Vous  comprenez, 
eh?" 

After  some  further  conference,  the  little 
chatterer  prevailed  upon  the  merchant  to 
retain  the  money,  and  left  the  counting- 
house  with  a  light  heart,  and  a  counte- 
nance very  different  from  the  one  he  wore 
when  he  entered.  His  confidence  was 
restored — he  did  not  stand  in  need  of  the 
money. 

The  banks  of  New  York  and  New 
England  remained  firm,  far  into  the  month 
of  October,  but  so  rapid  and  numberless 
were  the  failures,  each  succeeding  day,  of 


648 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


railroad  and  other  corporations,  and  busi- 
ness houses  which  had — some  of  them — 
breasted  all  the  financial  storms  of  the  last 
half  century,  that  these  were  finally  obliged 
to  succumb  to  the  avalanche  of  pressure, 
and  fell  into  the  vortex  of  universal  sus- 
pension. Tuesday,  the  thirteenth  of  Octo- 
ber, the  day  preceding  the  suspension,  was 
the  climax  of  the  struggle,  and  Wall 
street,  New  York,  as  the  great  center  of 
money  operations  in  the  United  States, 
presented  a  scene  of  wild  excitement  never 
before  witnessed. 

The  account  of  that  scene,  as  given  by 
the  reporter  for  the  Tribune,  is  here  in 
part  reproduced.     At  ten    o'clock  in  the 


was  hurriedly  dashed  off  at  its  foot,  and  in 
another  moment  it  was  on  its  Avay  to  the 
bank. 

The  crowd  increased  in  numbers.  Each 
person  took  his  place  in  the  line  and 
awaited  his  turn,  while  policemen  kept 
those  out  who  were  present  only  from 
motives  of  curiosity.  One  after  another 
was  paid,  and  with  the  shining  treasure 
departed.  Scores  of  hands,  skilled  by  long 
experience  in  counting  coin,  were  taxed  to 
their  utmost  in  their  efforts  to  keep  pace 
with  the  demand  for  gold.  Altogether, 
the  scene  presented  was  one  of  the  wildest 
excitement.  Tldvty  to  forty  thousand 
2)ersons  were  at  the  same  moment  in  the 


EFFECTS  OF  THE 

morning,  says  that  journal,  the  fronts  of 
the  different  institutions  indicated,  by  the 
crowds  gathered  around  them,  that  the 
ability  of  the  vaults  to  yield  up  their  treas- 
ure at  the  call  of  depositors  and  bill-hold- 
ers was  to  undergo  no  ordinary  test. 
Check  after  check  was  presented  and  paid, 
and  still  they  came.  Word  soon  went 
forth  that  a  run  had  commenced  on  the 
banks,  and  it  passed  from  one  house  to 
another  until  the  whole  lower  part  of  the 
city  was  alive  with  excitement.  Bank 
books  were  examined;  but  a  moment  was 
required  to  prepare  a  check — a  signature 


HARD  TIMES. 


street — some  rushing  onward  in  the  hope 
to  secure  their  deposits  before  the  hour  of 
closing  should  arrive,  and  others  clustered 
together,  discussing  the  condition  of  af- 
fairs. One  after  another  of  the  announce- 
ments made,  of  banks  failing  under  the 
continued  drain  upon  them,  fell  with  dis- 
may among  the  crowd,  and  confident  pre- 
dictions were  uttered  that  ten  o'clock  of 
Wednesday  would  tell  the  story  of  the 
suspension  of  all.  But  not  a  few  there 
were,  whose  belief  in  the  ability  of  the 
moneyed  institutions  was  still  unshaken, 
and  they  asserted,  with  earnestness,  that 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


649 


every  demand  in  checks  and  bills  would 
be  met  to  the  last,  aud  Panic  be  laughed 
to  scorn. 

But,  with  all  the  anxiety  and  resolute- 
ness de[iicted  upon  so  many  countenances, 
there  were  those  who  laughed  and  cracked 
jokes  about  their  deposits  in  banks  which 
had  suspended,  and  about  their  stock  in 
smashed-up  railroads,  as  though  the  whole 
thing  were  a  huge  joke.  From  the  top  of 
Wall  street  to  the  bottom — from  Broad- 
way to  Water  street — the  sidewalks  were 
crowded  with  people,  desirous  to  know  the 
truth  of  the  rumors  which  filled  the  air. 

In  other  parts  of  the  cit\',  stirring 
scenes  were  transpiring,  and  not  a  few 
that  were  quite  illustrative  of  human 
nature  in  its  different  veins.  During  the 
run  upon  the  Bowery  Savings  Bank,  an 
old  Irishwoman,  short,  thick,  resolute,  and 
*  a  little  in  for  it,'  made  herself  conspicu- 
ous by  elbowing  her  way  through  the  dis- 
trustful depositors,  very  unceremoniously, 
and  denouncing,  in  no  measured  terms, 
"  the  big  blackguards  that  would  be  af  ther 
chafing  a  poor  body  out  iv  her  hard  earned 
wagis."  Some  order  of  precedence  is  cus- 
tomary at  such  times,  but  the  heavy  shoes 
of  the  Irishwoman  did  such  execution 
upon  the  corns  of  all  who  stood  in  her  way, 
that  she  soon  obtained  a  good  place  near 
the  door,  in  spite  of  the  remonstrances  of 
a  dozen  or  two  of  younger  Biddys,  ]\Iag- 
gies,  Marj'S,  and  Kathleens,  who  had  been 
waiting  an  hour  or  two.  At  the  door,  she 
had  a  wordy  quarrel  with  a  broad-should- 
ered black  man  in  advance  of  her,  calling 
him  a  "  runaway  nagur ;  "  and  anon  she 
varied  her  performances  by  shaking  her 
fist  in  the  face  of  a  policeman — who,  as  an 
official  conservator  of  the  peace,  had  under- 
taken to  check  hex-, — and,  at  length,  very 
red  and  sweaty,  she  stood  before  the  pay- 
ing teller  and  presented  her  book,  with  a 
vocal  invocation  to  him  to  do  the  clean 
thing.  "  What's  this  mean  ?  "  said  he,  look- 
ing at  her  somewhat  impatiently.  "  What's 
your  name  ?  "  "Can't  yoos  rade  writin' 
hand?"  she  rejoined  sharply;  "  shure, 
me  nam's  on  the  book  !  "  "  But  this,"  said 
he,   "  is  only  a  grocer's   old  pass   book ! 


What's  3'our  name,  I  say  ?  "  "  Mary 
McRagan  I  was  christened,  but  I  married 
Pat  Mill i  kens."  The  teller  turned  rapidly 
to  his  index  of  depositors.  "  You  have 
got  no  money  in  this  bank  !  "  said  he,  when 
he  had  ascertained  the  fact.  She  left  the 
premises  in  company  with  an  officer,  to 
whom  she  confessed  that  she  had  found 
the  pass  book  near  the  crowd,  and  think- 
ing it  had  been  dropped  accidentally  by  a 
depositor,  she  had  thought  to  obtain  the 
money  before  the  depositor  applied  for  it. 
At  the  same  bank,  one  man  who  drew  out 
his  deposits  was  so  intoxicated  that  he 
could  hardly  stand  ;  quite  likely,  he  lost 
the  savings  of  years  before  the  night  was 
over.  At  another  savings  bank,  one  poor 
girl  had  her  pocket  picked  of  her  little  all 
— about  sevent^'-seven  dollars,  before  she 
had  got  out  of  the  crowd.  A  vast  deal 
of  chaffing  occurred  among  those  who 
thronged  the  doorways  of  the  banks.  "  I 
don't  know,"  said  one  to  a  bystander, 
"  where  to  put  my  money  when  I  get  it ! " 
"Give  it  to  me,"  rejoined  the  other. 
"Sew  it  up  in  your  shirt,"  said  another; 
and  several  other  methods  were  promptly 
and  merrily  suggested  by  the  sympathiz- 
ing spectators,  such  as  "  Stick  it  in  your 
wig  " — "  Let  the  old  woman  have  it " — 
"  Put  it  in  your  boots,  and  let  me  wear 
them  ; "  etc. 

At  the  Sixpenny  Savings  Bank,  a  little 
newsboy,  without  a  jacket,  and  only  one 
suspender  (and  that  a  string),  confronted 
the  teller  on  Monday,  and  demanded  to 
know  whether  "She  was  all  right" — 
meaning  the  Institution — because  if  she 
was,  he  didn't  mean  to  be  scared,  if  every- 
body else  was.  He'd  got  fort3'-two  cents 
salted  down  there,  and  all  he  wanted  was 
his  (the  teller's)  word  of  honor  that  it 
wouldn't  spile.  The  teller  assured  him 
that  his  money  was  ready  for  him  at  any 
moment.  "  'Nuff  said,  'tween  gen'l'men, 
but  I  don't  want  it,"  rejoined  the  youth, 
and  with  a  self-complacent,  well-satisfied 
air,  walked  out  of  the  bank.  "Is  she 
good  ?  "  cried  two  or  three  other  news- 
boys who  were  awaiting  the  result,  at  the 
doorsteps.     "  Yes,  s-i-r-r-e-e  !  "  he  replied, 


650 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


"  as  good  as  wheat.  Ketch  our  bank  to 
stop  !  Yoos  ought  to  seed  tlie  gold  I  seed 
ill  der  safe  !  "  "  How  much  was  tliey  ?  " 
inquired  a  companion.  "  More'n  a  house- 
ful! !  "  was  the  prompt  response,  "an'  yoos 
don't  ketch  dis  'ere  chile  a-makin'  an  oold 
woman  of  liis-self,  an'  drawin'  out  his 
money  ;  I  ain't  so  green — I  ain't !" 

It  will  require  but  little  strain  of  the 
imagination  to  realize,  to  one's  mind,  the 
case  of  Mrs.  Jones,  who,  on  receipt  of  the 
news  of  the  banks  suspending  specie  \}^j- 
ments,  hastened  to  her  savings  bank, 
elbowed  her  way  smartly  to  the  desk,  pre- 
sented her  book,  and  demanded  her  money. 

*'  Madam,"  said  the  clerk,  persuasively, 
"are  3'ou  sure  you  want  to  draw  this 
money  out  in  specie  ?  " 

"Mrs.  Jones,"  said  a  director,  with  an 
oracular  frown,  "  do  you  know  that  you 
are  injuring  your  fellow  depositors  ?  " 

"  And  setting  an  example  of  great  folly 
to  less  educated  persons  in  this  commu- 
nity ?  "  struck  in  another  director. 

"Let  us  advise  you  simply  to  reflect," 
interposed  the  clerk,  blandly. 

"  To  wait  for  a  day,  at  least,"  said  the 
director. 

At  last  there  was  a  pause. 

Mrs.  Jones  had  been  collecting  herself. 
She  burst  now.  In  a  tone  which  was 
heard  throughout  the  building,  and  above 
all  the  din  of  ordinary  business,  and  at 
which  her  questioners  turned  ashy  pale, 
she  said : 

"  Will  you  pay  me  viy  money  ? — yes  or 
KO ! " 

They  paid  her  instantly. 

Not  only  in  the  great  centers  of  business 
and  finance,  like  New  York,  Philadeli)hia, 
Boston,  Baltimore,  Cincinnati,  St.  Louis, 
and  New  Orleans,  but  in  every  town  and 
village,  the  scarcity  of  money  and  the 
failure  of  banks  and  commercial  houses, 
operated  to  paralyze  industry  and  bring 
want  to  thousands  of  families.  In  conse- 
quence of  the  universal  stoppage  of  facto- 
ries, the  poorer  classes  in  some  of  the  man- 
ufacturing communities  saw  winter  ap- 
proa(diing,  with  no  prospect  of  earning  a 
livelihood.     Whole  families  began  to  suffer 


for  bread — the  fathers  willing  and  eager  to 
work,  but  absolutely  nothing  to  do.  Tales 
of  distress  were  to  be  heard  at  almost 
every  stej),  for  the  factories,  forges,  and 
foundries,  had  all  ceased  their  cheerful 
hum  of  activity,  and  every  day's  intelli- 
gence from  different  parts  of  the  land  was 
that  of  fresh  accumulations  of  disaster, 
increasing  the  severity  of  the  situation, 
and  adding  to  the  general  gloom.  The 
oldest,  heaviest,  richest,  and  firmest  mon- 
eyed institutions,  corporations,  companies 
and  firms,  which  were  considered  equal  to 
any  pressure  that  might  be  brought  to 
bear  against  them,  were  daily  chronicled 
as  having  "  gone  to  the  wall."  Fortunes 
were  swept  away,  like  ashes  in  a  whirl- 
wind. Not  even  in  1837,  when  the  bank- 
ing system  of  the  country  was  in  so  preca- 
rious a  condition,  was  there  such  a  terrible 
downfall  of  old  and  wealthy  houses.  At 
the  west,  there  was  one  short,  tremendous 
collapse,  that  seemed  to  bring  ruin,  at  one 
quick  blow,  upon  everything  and  every- 
body ;  and  at  the  south,  the  devastation 
was  no  less  wide-spread  and  fatal. 

Various  means  were  resorted  to,  to  real- 
ize cash  for  stocks  of  goods  on  hand,  even 
at  a  ruinous  discount.  At  numberless  shop 
windows  were  to  be  seen  in  staring  letters, 
such  announcements  as :  '  These  goods 
sold  at  wholesale  prices.'  'Selling  off  at 
half  cost.'  'Bargains  to  be  had  for  two 
days — now  or  never!'  'We  must  realize 
ten  thousand  dollars  to-day,  at  any  sacri- 
fice ; '  etc.  Indeed,  in  all  the  large  cities, 
the  dry  goods  dealers,  being  severely 
pressed  for  money,  offered  their  goods  in 
this  way,  and  effected  large  sales.  A  large 
number  of  the  most  prominent  wholesale 
dealers  threw  open  their  vast  warehouses 
to  retail  customers,  and  b}^  this  means, 
probably,  not  a  few  houses,  of  that  class, 
managed  to  escape  the  hard  fate  that  befell 
others. 

Thus,  in  a  word,  there  Avas  exhibited 
the  melancholy  spectacle  of  a  great  nation's 
commercial,  financial,  manufacturing,  and 
industrial  interests  in  utter  ruin,  from  one 
end  of  the  broad  land  to  the  other ;  pros- 
perity succeeded  by  abject  adversity  ;  con- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


651 


fidence  supplanted  by  total  distrust;  a 
paralysis  of  all  trade ;  the  stoppage  of 
almost  every  bank  iu  every  part  of  the 
United  States,  the  cessation  of  factories, 
the  discharge  of  thousands  of  laborers,  the 
inability  to  bring  our  large  crops  of  prod- 
uce to  market,  the  ruinous  rate  of  two  or 
three  per  cent,  a  month  on  the  strongest 
paper,  and  a  ruinous  depreciation  in  the 
price  of  all  stocks.  The  steamers  on  the 
great  rivers  and  lakes  stood  still  5  the 
canal  boats  ceased  to  ply  ;  the  railroad 
trains  conveyed  less  than  half  the  usual 
amount  of  travelers  and  merchandise  ;  the 
navigating  interest  shared  the  common 
distress,  so  that  the  cargoes,  brought  from 
abroad,  either  passed  into  the  public  stores, 
or  were  re-exported  at  great  loss ;  the 
freighting  business-was  nearly  annihilated. 
Alarmed,  too,  at  the  prospect  before  them, 
ship-loads  of  emigrants  were  taken  home 
to  their  native  land,  in  the  packets  run- 
ning from  Boston  and  New  York  to  Eu- 
rope. Nor  did  the  fortune-tellers  fail  to 
drive  a  brisk  business  in  informing  igno- 
rant and  credulous  inquirers  what  was  to 
"  turn  up." 

That  this  great  national  calamity  had 
its  root  in  the  fever  for  land  and  railroad 
speculation,  involving  enormous  debt,  with 
no  corresponding  sound  basis  or  adequate 
means,  cannot  be  doubted.  Mr.  Gibbons, 
one  of  the  very  ablest  of  American  finan- 
cial writers,  argues,  in  respect  to  this 
point,  that,  notwithstanding  the  appear- 
ances of  prosperity  previous  to  the  panic, 
there  existed  all  the  conditions  of  extraor- 
dinary financial  disturbance.  A  prodig- 
ious weight  of  insolvency  had  been  carried 
along  for  years  in  the  volume  of  trade. 
Extravagance  of  living  had  already  sapped 
the  foundations  of  commercial  success,  in 
hundreds  of  instances  where  credit  sup- 
plied the  place  of  lost  capital.  Misman- 
agement and  fraud  had  gained  footing  in 
public  companies  to  an  incredible  degree  ; 
hundreds  of  millions  of  bonds  were  issued 
with  little" regard  to  the  validity  of  their 
basis,  and  pressed  upon  the  market  by  dis- 
honest agents,  at  any  price,  from  sixty 
down  to  thirty  cents  on  the  dollar.     False 


quotations  were  obtained  by  sham  auction 
sales.  The  newspaper  press,  in  particular 
instances,  was  bribed  into  silence,  or 
became  a  partner  iu  the  profits  to  be 
derived  from  the  various  schemes  which  it 
commended  to  general  confidence.  The 
land  grants  by  congress  to  railway  compa- 
nies gave  added  impetus  to  speculation, 
and  state  legislatures  were  bribed  to  locate 
roads  to  serve  individual  interests.  Public, 
as  well  as  private  credit,  was  compromised. 
It  could  not  be  otherwise  than  that 
bankruptcy  and  an  overwhelming  crash 
should  succeed  such  an  inflated  and  preca- 
rious state  of  things.  Even  when  trade 
and  business  are  conducted  in  accordance 
with  fair  and  legitimate  rules,  the  records 
of  insolvency  among  American  merchants 
tell  a  woful  tale.  Thus,  General  Dearborn, 
who  for  twenty  years  was  collector  of  the 
port  of  Boston,  and  who  had  ample  oppor- 
tunities for  observing  the  vicissitudes  of 
ti'ade,  ascertained,  on  investigation,  that 
among  every  hundred  of  the  merchants 
and  traders  of  that  city — whose  character 
for  carefulness  and  stability  will  compare 
favorably  with  that  of  merchants  in  any 
other  portion  of  the  land — not  more  than 
three  ever  acquired  an  independence. 
This  conclusion  was  not  arrived  at  without 
gi-eat  distrust ;  but  an  experienced  mer- 
chant, who  was  consulted,  fully  confirmed 
its  truth.  A  Boston  antiquarian  in  the 
year  1800  took  a  memorandum  of  every 
jierson  doing  business  on  Long  Wharf, 
and  in  1840  only  five  in  one  hundred 
remained  ;  all  but  these  had  either  failed 
or  died  insolvent.  The  Union  Bank  com- 
menced business  in  1798,  there  being  then 
only  one  other  bank.  The  Union  was 
overrun  with  business,  the  clerks  being 
obliged  to  work  till  midnight,  and  even  on 
Sundays.  An  examination,  some  fifty  or 
sixty  years  from  the  starting  of  the  bank, 
showed  that  of  one  thousand  accounts 
opened  at  the  commencement,  only  six 
remained  ;  all  the  others  had  either  failed, 
or  died  insolvent, — houses  whose  paper 
had  passed  without  question,  the  very  par- 
ties who  had  constituted  the  solid  men  of 
the  city,  all  had  gone  down  in  that  period. 


652 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Of  the  direful  havoc,  therefore,  created  by 
a  sudden  and  violent  panic,  sweeping  over 
the  whole  country  like  a  hurricane,  some 
idea  may  be  formed  from   the  statistics 

here  given. 

Notwithstanding  the  resumption  of 
business  on  a  specie  basis,  in  about  two 
months  from  the  time  of  their  suspension, 


by  most  of  those  banks  which  were  in  a 
solvent  condition,  it  was  a  long  while 
before  trade  and  industry  recovered  from 
their  crippled  state;  and  the  embarrass- 
ment and  suffering  which  consequently 
weighed,  during  so  protracted  a  period, 
upon  all  classes  of  the  community,  were 
painful  to  the  last  degree. 


LXXYI. 

THE  "GREAT  AWAKENING"  IN  THE  EELIGIOUS  WORLD ; 

AND  THE  POPULAR  REVIVAL  MOVEMENT  (IN  1875-6) 

UNDER    MESSRS.    MOODY   AND    SANKEY.— 185T. 


Like  a  Mighty  Kushing  Wind,  it  Sweeps  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific. — Crowded  Prayer-Meeting8 
Held  Daily  in  Every  City  and  Town,  from  the  Granite  Hills  of  the  North  to  the  Rolling  Prairies  of 
the  West  and  the  Golden  Slopes  of  California. — Large  Accessions,  from  all  Classes,  to  the  Churches 
of  Every  Name  and  Denomination. — The  "American  Pentecost." — Early  American  Revivals. — Dr. 
Franklin  and  Mr.  VVhitefield. — The  Hevival  of  1857  Spontaneous. — No  Leaders  or  Organizers. — Its 
Immediate  Cause. — Universal  liuin  of  Commerce. — Anxiety  for  Higher  Interests. — All  Days  of  the 
Week  Alike. — Business  Men  in  the  Work. — Telegraphing  Religious  Tidings. — New  York  a  Center 
of  Influence  — Fulton  Street  Prayer-Meeting. — Scenes  in  Burton's  Theater. — New  Themes  and  Actors. 
—Countless  Requests  for  Prayers. — A  Wonderful  Book. — Striking  Moral  Results. — Men  of  Violence 
Reformed. — Crime  and  Suicide  Prevented. — Infidels,  Gamblers,  Pugilists. — Jessie  Fremont's  Gold 
Ring. — "Awful"  Gardner's  Case. 


"  What  nothins  earthly  "ives,  or  can  destroy, 
The  boul's  calm  eunshiae  and  the  hvartfelt  joy." 


EVIVALS    of    religions   feeling 
and   interest,    attended  with 
great  numerical  accessions  to 
Ji0''  the    church,    have    been   not 

unfrequent  among  the  various 
denominations  of  Cliristians  in  Amer- 
ica, from  the  very  earliest  period  of  the 
country's  settlement;  and,  during  the 
eighteenth  centur}',  under  the  labors  of 
such  men  as  Whitefield,  Edwards,  the 
Tennents,  and  others,  such  results  fol- 
lowed as  had  never  before  characterized 
any  age  or  people.  The  labors  of 
Whitefield,  in  especial,  stirred  the  public  mind  to  its  depths,  and  reached  all  hearts. 
Even  Dr.  Franklin,  rationalist  though  he  was,  was  won  upon,  head,  heart,  and  pocket, 
by  the  power  of  this  mightiest  of  pulpit  orators.  Happening  to  attend  one  of  his  meet- 
ings in  Philadelphia,  and  perceiving,  in  the  course  of  the  sermon,  that  Whitefield 
intended  to  finish  with  a  collection,  Franklin  silently  resolved  that  the  preacher  should 
get  nothing  from  him,  though  he  had  in  his  pocket  a  handful  of  copper  money,  three  or 
four  silver  dollars,  and  five  pistoles  in  gold.  As  Whitefield  proceeded,  Franklin  began 
to  soften,  and  determined  to  give  the  copper.  Another  stroke  of  the  preacher's  oratory, 
made  Franklin  ashamed  of  that,  and  determined  him  to  give  the  silver  instead ;  but 


BOOK   OF  BEQUESTS   FOR  PRAYERS. 


654 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  preacher  finished  so  admirably,  that 
the  philosopher  emptied  his  pocket  wholly 
into  the  collector's  dish,  gold  and  all.  On 
the  same  occasion,  another  gentleman,  sus- 
pecting a  collection  might  be  intended, 
had,  by  precaution,  emptied  his  pockets 
before  leaving  home.  Towards  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  discourse,  however,  he  felt  a 
strong  inclination  to  give,  and  applied  to 
a  neighbor,  who  stood  near  him,  to  lend 
him  some  money  for  the  purpose.  The 
request  was  made  to,  perhaps,  the  only 
man  in  the  assembly  who  had  the  firmness 
not  to  be  affected  by  the  preacher.  His 
answer  was,  "At  any  other  time,  friend 
Hodgkinson,  I  would  lend  to  thee  freely; 
but  not  now,  for  thee  seems  to  be  out  of 
thy  right  senses."  The  multitudes,  of  all 
denominations,  that  went  to  hear  this  won- 
derful man,  were  enormous — indeed,  one 
great  secret  of  his  success  was,  his  freedom 
from  sectarian  prejudice  and  animosity. 
As  an  illustration  of  this  quality,  it  is 
related  that  in  the  midst  of  one  of  his 
most  overpowering  discourses,  he  stopped 
short  for  an  instant,  and  then  uttered  the 
following  impressive  apostrophe  :  "  Father 
Abraham,  who  have  you  in  heaven  ?  any 
Episcopalians  ?  "  "  No."  "  Any  Presby- 
terians ?  "  "No."  "Any  Baptists?" 
"No."  "Have  you  any  Methodists,  Sece- 
ders,  or  Independents  there?"  "No, 
no  !  "  "  Why  who  have  you  there  ?  " 
"We  don't  know  those  names  here.  All 
who  are  here  are  Christians,  believers  in 
Christ — men  who  have  overcome  by  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb,  and  the  word  of  his 
testimony."  "Oh,  is  that  the  case  ?  then 
God  help  me,  God  help  us  all,  to  forget 
party  names,  and  to  become  Christians,  in 
deed  and  in  truth."  The  labors  of  such  a 
champion  could  not  be  otherwise  than 
fruitful  of  good. 

Without  dwelling  upon  the  scenes  and 
results  relating  to  the  early  religious 
efforts  alluded  to  above,  it  may  be  said  of 
the  revival  in  1857-8 — known  as  "the 
Great  Awakening,''^  and  which  is  the 
subject  of  this  chapter, — that  it  depended 
not  upon  any  leader  or  preacher,  however 
eloquent,  but    was   the    ppontaneous    out- 


growth of  the  heart's  necessities,  felt  in 
common  by  the  great  mass  of  the  public, 
in  view  of  the  financial  tornado  which, 
sweeping  with  such  universal  destructive- 
ness  over  the  land,  had  given  impressive 
weight  to  the  truth,  that  "  the  things 
which  are  seen  are  temporal,  but  the 
things  which  are  not  seen  are  eternal." 
No  words  could  convey  a  better  idea  of  the 
general  feeling  which  thus  possessed  men's 
minds  at  this  period  of  mercantile  ruin  on 
the  one  hand,  and  of  religious  anxiety  on 
the  other,  than  those  uttered  by  a  promi- 
nent merchant  of  New  York,  at  one  of  the 
business  men's  daily  praj'er-meetings  in 
that  citj^  "Prayer,"  said  he,  "was  never 
so  great  a  blessing  to  me  as  it  is  now.  I 
should  certainly  either  break  down  or  turn 
rascal,  except  for  it !  When  one  sees  his 
property  taken  from  him  every  day,  by 
those  who  might  pay  him  if  they  were 
willing  to  make  sacrifices  in  order  to  do  it, 
but  who  will  not  make  the  least  effort  even 
for  this  end,  and  by  some  who  seem  de- 
signedly to  take  advantage  of  the  times,  in 
order  to  defraud  him — and  when  he  him- 
self is  liable  to  the  keenest  reproaches  from 
others  if  he  does  not  i>ay  money,  which  he 
cannot  collect  and  cannot  create  —  the 
temptation  is  tremendous  to  forget  Chris- 
tian charity,  and  be  as  hard  and  unmerci- 
ful as  anybody.  If  I  could  not  get  some 
half  hours  every  day  to  pray  myself  into  a 
right  state  of  mind,  I  should  either  be 
overburdened  and  disheartened,  or  do  such 
things  as  no  Christian  man  ought."  Tes- 
timonies like  this  were  innumerable  from 
business  men, — the}^,  as  well  as,  the  laity 
in  general,  being  most  prominent  in  carry- 
ing on  the  work. 

But,  though  this  movement  was,  in  a 
very  great  degree,  sj)ontaneous,  it  was 
early  accompanied  by  a  systematic  plan  of 
family  visitation,  in  the  principal  cities, 
and  by  noonday  praj'er-meetings,  in  almost 
every  city,  town,  and  village,  from  one  end 
of  the  country  to  the  other.  In  such 
places  as  New  York,  Boston,  Philadelpliia, 
Cincinnati,  Chicago,  Richmond,  as  well  as 
farther  south  and  west,  not  only  were  the 
usual  houses  of  worship  crowded  daily,  but 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


G55 


the  largest  public  halls  were  hired  for  the 
same  purpose,  and  resounded  every  day 
with  fervent  prayers,  songs  of  praise,  and 
earnest  exhortations. 

Thus,  in  Phihidelphia,  the  vast  audience 
room  of  Jayne's  Hall,  and,  in  New  York, 
Burton's  well-known  theater,  were  appro- 
priated for  religious  assemblings.  The 
room  hitherto  occupied  in  the  first-named 
hall,  contained  accommodations  for  about 
three  hundred  persons,  and  when  it  was 
decided  upon  to  remove  into  the  large  hall, 
it  was  with  no  expectation  that  the  room 
would  be  filled,  at  such  an  hour  as  noon- 
day. To  the  amazement  of  all,  however, 
it  was  densely  crowded,  every  seat  being 
occupied,  including  the  settees  in  the  aisles, 
and  a  large  portion  of  the  immense  galler- 
ies, and  those  who  left  for  want  of  room 
upon  the  main  floor,  are  said  to  have 
exceeded  the  number  who  could  not  gain 
admission  on  the  day  previous,  when  the 
meeting  was  held  in  the  small  room  ad- 
joining. It  was  estimated  that  there  were 
certainly  not  less  than  three  thousand  per- 
sons who  entered  the  hall  during  the  hour, 
and  it  was  conceded,  by  those  whose 
means  of  knowledge  enabled  them  to  judge, 
that  this  was  the  largest  meeting  convened 
for  the  simple  purpose  of  praj'er  to  God, 
that  had  ever  been  assembled  in  this 
country. 

From  New  York  city,  a  vast  religious 
influence  went  forth  to  all  parts  of  the 
land,  and  details  of  the  daily  proceedings 
in  the  prayer-meetings  held  at  Burton's 
theater,  and  in  the  Fulton  street  and  John 
street  church  vestries,  were  published  far 
and  wide  by  the  secular  press.  Indeed, 
the  fullness  and  candor  characterizing  the 
reports  contained  in  the  city  journals, 
were,  with  scarcely  an  exception,  most 
honorable  to  those  influential  mediums  of 
public  enlightenment.  Of  the  now  almost 
world-renowned  Fulton  street  prayer-meet- 
ing, held  at  first  in  one  room,  but  to  which, 
as  the  revival  progressed,  it  was  found 
necessary  to  add  two  more,  the  Daily  Tri- 
bune of  March  6,  1858,  said :  "  All  three 
are  now  not  only  filled  to  their  utmost 
capacity,  but  would  be  still  more  largely 


attended  if  there  were  sitting  or  even 
standing-room  to  be  offered  to  the  multi- 
tude. A  placard  is  posted  on  the  gate, 
inviting  persons  to  enter,  though  such  an 
invitation  seems  no  longer  necessar}' : 
'  Step  in  for  live  minutes,  or  longer,  as 
your  time  permits.'  Inside  notices  arc 
hung  on  the  walls,  to  the  effect  that 
prayers  and  remarks  should  be  brief,  '  in 
order  to  give  all  an  opportunity,'  and  for- 
bidding the  introduction  of  'controverted 
points,'  for  the  purpose  of  preventing  the- 
ological discussion.  These  precautions  are 
taken,  in  order  to  give  as  much  variety  as 
possible  to  the  exercises,  for  it  is  always 
unpardonable  to  render  a  crowded  meeting 
dull.  The  frequenters  of  this  meeting 
come  from  all  classes  of  society',  and  are 
invited  as  such,  without  regard  to  their 
differences.  Many  clergymen  of  the  city 
churches,  and  many  prominent  lawmen, 
including  merchants  and  gentlemen  in  the 
legal  and  medical  j^rofessions,  are  seen 
there  every  day — as  they  ought  to  be  seen 
— side  by  side  with  the  mechanic  and  the 
day  laborer,  and  even  the  street  beggar. 
Draymen  drive  up  their  carts  to  the 
church,  and,  hitching  their  horses  outside, 
go  in  with  the  crowd ;  and  '  fine  ladies,' 
who  sometimes  have  Christian  hearts  in 
spite  of  unchristian  fashions,  driven  down 
from  'up  town '  in  their  fine  carriages,  also 
step  in  and  mingle  with  the  same  multi- 
tude. The  exercises  consist  about  equally 
of  prayers,  remarks,  and  singing.  Of 
course  it  is  impracticable  for  so  many  to 
take  part  in  the  speaking  or  the  audible 
praying,  but  they  all  join  in  the  singing 
with  great  zeal  and  emphasis.  On  one 
occasion,  the  volume  of  sound  was  so  heavy 
as  to  dislodge  from  its  place  on  the  wall 
the  clock  which  had  been  securely  fastened, 
as  was  supposed,  and  bring  it  crashing  to 
the  floor.  It  is  not  unfrequent,  during  the 
continuance  of  the  meeting,  to  see  a  crowd 
of  persons  collected  in  the  street  in  front 
of  the  church,  to  listen  to  the  spirit-stirring 
hymns  that  are  sung  inside.  The  prayer- 
meeting  held  in  the  old  Methodist  church 
in  John  street  is  similar  to  this.  The 
attendance  here  iss  already  found  sufficient 


656 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


to  crowd  the  entire  ground  floor  of  the 
building.  Many  Methodist  brethren  at- 
tend this  meeting  in  preference  to  the 
otlier,  but  the  proceedings  are  character- 
ized with  entire  catliolicity  and  freedom 
fi-om  sectarianism."  Perhaps  no  better 
illustration  could  be  afforded  of  this  unsec- 
tarian  feeling,  as  well  as  of  the  prevailing 
spirit  of  the  times,  than  the  following  dis- 
patch, which  was  sent  by  telegraph,  at 
noon,  March  12th,  to  the  great  union 
prayer-meeting  in  Jayne's  Hall,  Philadel- 
phia : 

"  Christian  Brethren — The  New  York 
Jolm  street  Union  Meeting  sends  you 
greeting  in  brotherly  love :  '  And  the  in- 
habitants of  one  city  shall  go  to  another, 
saying,  Let  us  go  speedily  to  pi'ay  before 
the  Lord,  and  to  seek  the  Lord  of  Hosts — 
I  will  go  also.  Praise  the  Lord — call 
upon  his  name — declare  his  doings  among 
the  people — make  mention  that  his  name 
is  exalted.' " 

To  the  above  message,  the  following 
dispatch  from  Mr.  George  H.  Stuart,  a 
prominent  Old  School  Presbyterian  and 
chairman  of  the  Philadelphia  meeting,  was 
immediately  telegraphed  and  read  to  the 
John  street  meeting: 

"Jayne's  Hall  daily  Prayer  Meeting  is 
crowded  ;  upwards  of  three  thousand  pres- 
ent; witli  one  mind  and  heart  the}'  glorify 
our  Father  in  heaven  for  the  miglity  work 
he  is  doing  in  our  city  and  country,  in  the 
building  up  of  saints  and  the  conversion  of 
sinners.  The  Lord  hath  done  great  things 
for  us,  whence  joy  to  us  is  brought.  May 
He  who  holds  the  seven  stars  in  his  right 
hand,  and  who  walks  in  the  midst  of  the 
churches,  be  with  you  by  His  Spirit  this 
day.  Grace,  mercy,  and  peace,  be  with 
you." 

Even  among  those  denominations  unac- 
customed to  what  are  known  as  'revival 
measures'  for  the  furtherance  of  relitjion, 
such  as  the  Unitarian,  Universalist,  and 
E[)iscopalian,  a  disposition  was  manifested 
to  co-operate,  in  prayers  and  labors,  for  the 
success  of  the  good  work.  In  Boston,  and 
other  places,  prayer-meetings  were  con- 
ducted by  the  Unitarian  clergy  and  laity, 


which  were  thronged  to  the  utmost  capac- 
ity of  the  halls  used  for  the  purpose.  In 
New  York,  the  Orchard  Street  Universalist 
church.  Rev.  Dr.  S.awyer,  exhibited  a  warm 
sympathy  with  the  revival,  and  took  an 
active  part  in  its  progress ;  pra\-er-meetings 
were  held  twice  a  week,  which  were  full}'  at- 
tended, a  deep  religious  feeling  pervaded 
the  congregation,  and  large  numbers 
united  with  the  church.  The  card  of  invi- 
tation to  their  prayer-meeting,  which,  like 
that  of  other  denominations,  was  exten- 
sively circulated,  read  as  follows :  A  gen- 
eral prayer-meeting  will  be  held  every 
Wednesday  and  Friday  evening,  at  half- 
past  seven  o'clock,  in  the  lecture-room  of 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Sawyer's  church,  Orchard 
street,  near  Broome.  'Ho,  everyone  that 
thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters,  and  he 
that  hath  no  money ;  come  ye,  buy  and 
eat ;  3'ea,  come,  buy  wine  and  milk  with- 
out money  and  without  price.' 

Among  the  Episcopalians,  meetings  of 
deep  interest  were  held,  including  regular 
evening  services  for  prayer  and  short  ad- 
dresses, at  the  Church  of  the  Ascension, 
New  York,  Rev.  Dr.  Bedell's.  One  of 
these  meetings  was  of  a  ver}'  impressive 
character.  The  meeting  commenced  with 
singing  the  hymn,  "Stay,  thou  insulted 
Spirit,  stay,"  a  series  of  praj^ers  followed, 
after  which  Rev.  Mr.  Dickson  delivered 
a  short  address,  founded  on  the  Avords, 
"  Lord,  are  there  few  that  be  saved  ? " 
Other  hymns  were  sung,  and  then  remarks 
made  by  Rev.  Drs.  Dj^er  and  Cutler,  E])is- 
copal  rectors.  Doctor  Cutler  said  that, 
twenty  years  ago,  such  a  meeting  as  the 
present  one  would  have  been  denounced  as 
Method istical ;  but  he  felt  that  he  could 
almost  say,  with  Simeon  of  old,  "Now, 
Lord,  let  thy  servant  depart  in  peace,"  for 
he  had  witnessed  that  glorious  "levia- 
than," the  Episcopal  Church,  which  for 
forty  years  he  had  lamented  to  see,  with 
all  its  noble  qualities  and  precious  gifts, 
being  fast  in  the  stocks,  at  last  launched 
and  making  full  headway  in  the  river  that 
flows  from  the  City  of  God. 

Next  to  the  Fulton  street  prayer-meet- 
ing, in  point  of  wide-reaching  influence, 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


657 


GKOUP  OF  EMINENT   REVIVAL  PREACHERS 


DURING  THE  NATIONAL  CENTURY. 


42 


658 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  meetings  for  prayer  held  daily,  at 
noon,  in  Burton's  tlieater,  may  be  spoken 
of  as  most  conspicuous.  It  was  hired  for 
this  purpose  by  the  New  York  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association,  and  was 
crowded  daily  with  earnest-minded  men 
and  women,  fervent  in  their  songs,  prayers, 
and  exhortations.  The  place  made  so 
famous,  in  years  past,  by  the  histrionic 
performances  of  Burton,  Blake,  Placide, 
Holland,  Davenport,  Johnston,  Lester, 
Jordan,  Fisher,  Brougham,  and  other 
celebrities,  now  resounded  with  the  soul- 
stirring  appeals  of  such  men  as  Cuyler, 
Beecher,  Hatfield,  Armitage,  and  a  host  of 
warm-hearted  merchants  and  professional 
men,  all  enlisted  in  the  good  work  of  ex- 
tolling the  glad  tidings  of  salvation.  In- 
stead of  polkas,  schottisches,  and  waltzes 
— instead  of  fiddle  and  bow,  orchestra  and 
overture, — there  were  the  grave  and  seri- 
ous hymns,  "  Children  of  the  Heavenly 
King,"  and  "Salvation,  0  the  joyful 
sound,"  "Return,  my  wandering  soul, 
return,"  etc.  With  the  exception  of  now 
and  then  a  fervid  "  Amen,"  or  a  hearty 
"  Yes,  Lord,"  the  order  and  quiet  of  the 
audience  during  the  speaking  were  entirely 
uninterrupted. 

At  all  the  multitudinous  prayer-meet- 
ings held  in  different  places  throughout 
the  country,  one  marked  feature  of  the 
proceedings  was  that  of  receiving  and 
reading  requests  for  prayers.  The  re- 
quests of  this  character  sent  to  the  Fulton 
street  meeting  have  all  been  carefully  pre- 
served in  a  book,  constituting  a  volume 
upon  which  no  one  can  look  without  the 
deepest  interest.  The  scope  and  variety 
of  these  requests  afford  so  apt  a  reflection 
of  the  state  of  feeling  during  the  revival 
period,  that  a  few  specimens  of  those  pre- 
sented at  different  times  and  places,  will 
be  a  fair  illustration  of  all : 

'A  Christian  merchant  earnestly  desires 
the  prayers  of  God's  people  for  his  co-part- 
ners in  business,  and  for  all  the  young 
men  in  their  employment  unconverted  to 
God.' 

'An  anxious  wife  is  praying  earnestly 
at  this  hour  for  her  husband,   who   once 


made  a  profession  of  religion,  but  is  now 
fearful  that  he  never  was  born  of  the 
Spirit,  and  is  in  darkness.  She  asks  for 
an  interest  in  your  prayers  in  his  behalf.' 

'  The  prayers  of  those  who  are  accus- 
tomed to  intercede  with  God,  are  requested 
by  a  San  Franciscan,  that  the  Almighty 
would  visit  the  city  of  San  Francisco  with 
a  gracious  outpouring  of  his  Spirit.  Re- 
member your  brothers  and  fathers  on  the 
Pacific  coast.' 

'  The  prayers  of  this  meeting  are  re- 
quested for  a  young  lady  who  scoffs  at 
religion.  Don't  forget  her,  brethren.  She 
has  no  one  to  pray  for  her  but  the  writer 
of  this.     Oh,  pray  for  her.' 

^A  widow  asks  for  the  prayers  of  the 
brethren  and  sisters  for  a  son  brought  up 
under  careful  religious  instruction,  who 
last  night  cursed  Iiis  viot/ier — that  he  may 
this  day  be  brought  to  the  feet  of  Jesus.' 

*  Prayers  are  requested  for  a  sister  who 
is  given  to  intemperance.' 

*  The  prayers  of  Christians  are  most 
earnestly  requested  by  a  son  in  behalf  of 
an  aged  father,  nearly  seventy  j^ears  old. 
A  family  of  ten  children  are  praying 
morning,  noon,  and  night  for  him.' 

'  The  prayers  of  Christians  are  requested 
for  a  young  man — the  son  of  a  clergyman 
— who  is  an  idle  jester  on  the  subject  of 
religion,  and  who  has,  within  the  last 
hour,  been  heard  to  ridicule  these  meet- 
ings, and  to  jest  upon  these  subjects.' 

'  My  husband  is  not  a  Christian,  though 
often  thoughtful.  I  have  prayed  for  his 
conversion  every  day  since  our  marriage 
— nine  j'ears.  May  I  ask  an  interest  in 
your  prayers  that  my  husband  may  seek 
7ioia  an  interest  in  Christ,  and  that  we 
may  both  become  devoted,  earnest,  Bible- 
Christians  ? ' 

'The  prayers  of  the  Fulton  street  meet- 
ing are  earnestly  requested  for  a  bible 
class  of  twentj'^-two  3'oung  ladies,  con- 
nected with  one  of  the  Dutch  Reformed 
churches  in  this  vicinit}',  some  of  whom 
appear  to  be  anxious  for  their  souls.' 

It  was  in  this  spirit  that  the  Great 
Awakening  showed  its  character  and  its 
power  in  all  sections  of  the  land,   north, 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVEN^TS. 


659 


south,  east,  and  west,  the  "Wind  of  God 
sweejiing  benignly  from  the  Atlantic  to 
the  Pacific, — reaching  across  the  length 
and  breadth  of  the  continent, — from  the 
granite  mountains  of  the  north  to  the  roll- 
ing prairies  of  the  west  and  the  golden 
slopes  of  California.  It  was,  in  a  word, 
the  American  Pentecost, — the  great  relig- 
ious epoch  of  the  national  century,  un- 
equaled  in  earnestness,  union,  and  univer- 
sality, b}'  any  similar  movement  that  had 
preceded  it,  in  the  history  of  the  western 
world.  The  spiritual  activities  of  the 
denominations  were  everywhere  constant 
and  fruitful,  the  accessions  to  the  churches 
being  numbered  by  scores  of  thousands. 
In  places  the  most  obscure,  remote  and 
isolated,  the  most  fervid  religious  engaged- 
ness  was  to  be  found,  while,  in  the  larger 
towns  and  cities,  no  business  man,  what- 
ever his  location,  needed  to  go  forty  rods 
to  find  a  prayer-meeting  in  operation,  wath 
a  printed  invitation  outside  for  him  to 
enter  and  listen  to  the  prayers  and  expe- 
riences of  others,  and,  if  he  so  desired,  take 
a  part  in  the  exercises  himself.  There 
were  special  meetings  for  praj^er,  also,  in 
behalf  of  firemen,  policemen,  waiters  at 
hotels,  seamen,  and  boys,  maintained 
wholly  or  in  part  by  the  classes  specially 
named,  and  resulting  in  a  large  amount  of 
good.  Men  of  established  Christian  char- 
acter were  strengthened  in  their  good  pur- 
poses ;  the  indifferent  and  heedless  were 
awakened  to  thoughtfulness  on  religious 
themes  ;  and  multitudes,  everywhere,  who 
had  led  lives  of  immorality  and  wicked- 
ness, dangerous  to  society,  were  reclaimed, 
and  henceforth  walked  in  the  path  of 
virtue  and  honor. 

Of  the  many  interesting  incidents  which 
transpired  during  this  wonderful  period, 
only  a  few  can  here  be  cited. 

Just  after  the  commencement  of  the 
great  panic,  (says  Rev.  Mr.  Adams,  a  well- 
known  Methodist  preacher  in  New  York,) 
a  young  man  called  on  me  late  on  Satur- 
day night.  He  was  the  picture  of  distress 
and  despair.  Supposing  him  to  be  one  of 
the  many  cases  that  dailj^  came  under  my 
notice,   I  invited  him  in.     He  sat  some 


minutes  in  jierfect  silence,  and  finally 
burst  into  tears.  It  was  some  time  before 
he  could  control  himself  sufficiently  to  go 
on,  and  then  said,  "Can  you  do  anything 
for  me  ?  "  I  requested  him  to  state  his 
case.  He  said  he  was  miserable  beyond 
description — had  been  blessed  with  pious 
parents  and  a  religious  education,  but  had 
gone  far  away  from  the  counsels  of  his 
fathers  ;  he  had  fallen  into  shameful  sin, 
until  his  soul  loathed  himself,  and  he  had 
been  on  the  verge  of  self-destruction. 
"This  afternoon,"  said  he,  "feeling  a  hell 
within,  I  went  and  bought  poison, — went 
into  my  room,  and  was  about  to  take  it, 
when  something  seemed  to  say  to  me,  'Go 
down  and  see  the  minister,'  and  I  have 
come.  Will  you  pray  for  me  ?  "  He  fell 
on  his  knees  and  cried  aloud  for  mercy. 
After  two  hours  of  prayer,  he  grew  calm, 
and  finally  joyful.  He  gave  me  a  package, 
and  requested  me  to  destroy  it;  there  was 
laudanum  in  it — enough  to  have  killed 
half  a  dozen  men. 

One  of  the  first  conversions  among  the 
sailors,  was  that  of  a  man  who  had  been 
greatly  addicted  to  gambling,  and  to  other 
vices  that  usually  accompany  this.  When 
he  went  to  the  meeting,  he  had  just  left 
the  gaming-table ;  but  when  he  returned, 
his  first  act  was  to  consign  his  cards  and 
dice  to  the  flames.  He  then  knelt  down, 
prayed,  and  was  converted.  He  w^ent  to 
sea,  and  on  board  the  ship  daily  prayer- 
meetings  were  held  both  in  the  cabin  and 
forecastle. 

A  merchant,  after  having  attended  one 
of  the  crowded  prayer-meetings  held  in 
the  cit}',  determined,  on  returning  home, 
to  make  an  effort  for  the  spiritual  good  of 
some  of  his  friends  and  neighbors.  One 
of  these  was  a  man  who  avowed  himself  an 
infidel.  A  prayer-meeting  was  organized, 
to  which  this  man  with  others  was  invited, 
and,  after  several  days'  attendance,  rose 
on  one  occasion,  and  requested  that  prayer 
should  be  made  in  his  behalf.  To  the 
surprise  and  almost  astonishment  of  his 
acquaintances,  he  shortly  afterward  re- 
nounced infidelity,  and  embraced  the 
Christian  religion. 


6C0 


OUR  FIEST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


At  many  of  tlie  telegraph  offices,  mes- 
sages were  constantly  being  sent  to  all 
parts  of  tlie  land,  announcing  conversions. 
Some  of  these  were  exceedingly  tender  and 
touching,  such  as,  '  Dear  mother,  the  revi- 
val continues,  and  I,  too,  have  been  con- 
verted.' '  My  dear  parents,  you  will  re- 
joice to  hear  that  I  have  found  peace  with 
God.'  'Tell  my  sister  that  I  have  come 
to  the  Cross  of  Christ.'  '  At  last  I  have 
faith  and  peace.' 

The  influence  of  personal  effort  and  a 
good  example  was  forcibly  illustrated  in 
the  following  case  of  a  man  and  wife,  who 
were  utterly  regardless  even  of  the  forms 
of  religion,  the  husband,  indeed,  being  an 
infidel.  The  wife  had,  however,  been 
taken  by  some  one  to  the  meetings  in  a 
neighboring  Methodist  church,  and,  un- 
known to  her  husband,  had  become  inter- 
ested in  them.  One  day  he  was  scoffing 
in  her  presence  at  the  revival,  expressing 
his  disbelief  in  everything  of  the  kind, 
especially  ridiculing  the  Methodist  modes 
of  labor,  and  winding  up  with  a  threat 
that  he  would  soon  stop  any  of  Jtis  family 
who  should  be  guilty  of  the  folly  of  going 
up  to  the  altar.  "  Why,"  said  his  wife, 
throwing  her  arms  round  his  neck,  and 
giving  him  a  kiss,  "do  you  know  that  / 
was  there  last  night  ?  "  "  No,"  he  replied, 
returning  her  kiss;  "but  I  am  glad  of  it." 
He  was  softened  ;  that  same  evening  he 
accompanied  her  to  meeting,  and  went  up 
to  the  altar  himself. 

St.  Paul's  Episcopal  church,  on  Broad- 
way, New  York,  was  filled  Avith  multi- 
tudes, on  Wednesday  and  Friday  evenings, 
in  attendance  on  the  devotional  services 
performed  there.  On  one  of  these  occa- 
sions, soon  after  the  exercises  commenced, 
the  large  and  fashionable  congregation  was 
surprised  by  the  entrance  of  three  Indian 
maidens,  wrapped  in  their  blue  blankets. 
They  paused  for  an  instant  at  the  door, 
and  then  advanced  to  the  front  of  the  altar 
with  quiet  dignity  and  self-possession,  and 
knelt  down  to  their  devotions.  As  the 
solemn  ceremonies  drew  near  to  a  close, 
they  rose,  crossed  themselves,  and,  saluting 
the  altar,  glided  down  the  aisle  and  from 


the  church.  They  were  of  the  Caughne- 
waga  tribe,  residing  near  Montreal,  and 
had  visited  New  York  for  the  purpose  of 
selling  their  trinkets,  bead  moccasins,  and 
baskets.  Being  mostly  Catholics,  they 
usually  worshiped  in  the  church  of  that 
order  on  Canal  street;  but  it  seemed  that 
they  had  observed  the  brilliantly  illumin- 
ated church  in  i^assing  by,  and  had  entered, 
forgetful  of  form  or  sect,  to  kneel  with 
their  white  sisters  before  the  common 
Father  of  all. 

In  Mr,  Beecher's  church,  Brooklj'n,  at 
the  close  of  one  of  the  morning  meetings, 
a    charitable    collection    was    taken     un. 

1. 

Among  the  audience  was  Mrs.  Fremont 
("  Our  Jessie  "),  who,  happening  to  have 
no  money  in  her  pocket,  as  the  plate  was 
passed,  took  from  her  finger  a  heavy  gold 
ring,  and  threw  it  in  as  the  only  contribu- 
tion which  she  was  able  at  the  moment  to 
make.  The  ring  contained  on  the  outside 
an  engraved  bea, — in  allusion  to  a  beautiful 
incident  in  Fremont's  passage  of  the 
Bocky  Mountains, — and,  on  the  inside, 
the  inscription,  'March  4,  '57.' 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  conversions 
among  the  dangerous  and  criminal  classes, 
was  that  of  Orville  Gardner,  commonly 
called  "  Awful "  Gardner,  a  noted  prize- 
fighter and  trainer  of  pugilists.  He  was 
induced  to  attend  one  of  the  Methodist 
meetings,  and,  to  the  surprise  of  multi- 
tudes, he  requested  the  pra3'ers  of  the  con- 
gregation, a  request  which  on  three  differ- 
ent occasions  he  repeated.  At  this  time, 
he  was  residing  in  the  vicinity  of  New 
York.  Having  some  unimportant  busi- 
ness to  do  in  that  city,  a  friend  asked  him 
if  he  would  "  jump  into  the  cars  and  go 
down  and  attend  to  it."  He  replied,  "  I 
have  more  imi)ortant  business  to  attend  to 
first,  and  I  shall  not  go  to  the  city  till  it 
is  done."  He  had  then  three  men  under 
his  training  for  a  prize-fight.  On  being 
asked  if  he  would  give  them  further  les- 
sons, he  replied  that  "he  would  go  to 
them  soon,  but  on  a  different  errand  from 
boxing  and  training — he  would  try  to  per- 
suade them  to  reform,  and  to  embrace 
religion." 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


661 


A  young  man,  heaving  himself  prayed 
for  by  some  friends,  became  so  angry,  that 
he  resolved  to  sell  his  farm  and  go  west, 
away  from  such  interfering  relatives. 
Tliey  continued  to  pray,  and  he  tinally 
sold  his  farm,  and  was  going  to  start  for 
Albany,  on  his  way  to  the  west.  While 
going  to  take  the  cars,  he  passed  the 
prayer-meeting,  and,  having  some  time  to 
wait  for  the  train,  thought  he  would  just 
step  in,  to  pass  the  time  away,  and  see 
what  was  going  on.  He  went  in,  was 
deeply  impressed,  and  his  case  was  imme- 
diately added  to  the  great  multitude  of 
similar  instances  of  reformation,  which 
made  the  Great  Awakening  of  1857-8  so 
memorable  in  the  religious  history  of  the 
nation. 


world-wide  fame,  who  had  some  time  pre- 
viously been  on  a,  tour  of  active  and  suc- 
cessful religious  labor  in  different  parts  of 
Europe.  Returning  to  their  native  land, 
they  devoted  themselves,  for  consecutive 
months,  and  with  great  and  disinterested 
earnestness,  among  the  masses,  and  this, 
too,  as  it  appeared,  not  only  without  stated 
or  assured  pecuniary  compensation,  but 
absolutely  without  consideration  of  money 
or  hire,  beyond  what  was  voluntarily  con- 
tributed by  friends  for  their  current  ex- 
penses. 

Never  before,  perhaps,  were  the  fount- 
ains of  the  higher  life  in  man  opened  up 
so  abundantly  and  universallj'^  in  our  land, 
as  by  the  efforts  of  these  simple-spoken 
but  intrepid  and  warm-hearted  reformers. 


D.^ANKt 


But,  in  addition  to  the  Great  Awaken- 
ing thus  distinguishing  the  periods  de- 
scribed, and  which  wrought  such  mighty 
results,  there  was  to  succeed  another, 
which,  in  some  of  its  aspects,  was  to  prove 
even  more  noteworthy.  Indeed,  it  may 
be  said,  without  exaggeration,  that  one  of 
the  most  happy,  conciliator}^,  and  widely 
useful  religious  movements  characterizing 
the  historj'  of  our  countr}^,  and,  in  fact, 
the  history  of  modern  times, — creating  an 
enthusiasm  as  genial  and  far-reaching  as 
it  was  decorous  and  practical, — was  that 
which  commenced  in  the  fall  of  1875, 
under  the  personal  auspices  of  Messrs. 
Moody    and    Sankey,    lay   evangelists    of 


as  they  went  from  town  to  town  and  from 
city  to  city,  with  the  proclamation,  by  fer- 
vent discourse,  and  cheering,  melting  song, 
of  the  "glad  tidings  of  good." 

Standing  aloof  from  even  the  shadow  of 
sectarian  propagandism  or  theological  dis- 
putation, they  enlisted  the  co-operation — 
or,  at  least,  the  good  will  and  God-speed — 
of  all  denominations  of  Christians,  and,  so 
conciliatory  was  their  speech,  and  so  ra- 
tional their  methods,  in  appealing  to  the 
irreligious  or  indifferent,  that,  unlike  the 
experience  which  would  probably  have  at- 
tended a  different  course,  little  if  any  time 
was  lost  in  provoking  criticism  or  combat- 
i  ing  objections.     And  this,  in  a  word,  was 


662 


OUE  FIKST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  cause  of  the  welcome  extended  them, 
wherever  they  went,  tind  of  the  almost 
invariably  rich  harvests  which  accom- 
panied their  labors.  Nothing,  in  fact, 
could  better  evince  the  favorable  impres- 
sion made  by  these  evangelists  upon  soci- 
et}'^,  than  the  judgments  of  the  value  of 
their  work,  expressed  by  those  not  holding 
their  opinions.  Thus,  the  Tablet,  an  in- 
fluential journal  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
faith,  published  in  New  York,  spoke  of 
Mr.  Moody  as  affording,  in  ''  the  midst  of 
an  age  of  mocking  and  unbelieving,  a  kind 
of  earnest  testimony  to  Jesus,  and  we  can 
not  find  it  in  our  heart  to  say  it  is  not  of 
God ; "  and,  though  guarding  its  conces- 
sions hj  the  claim  for  its  own  Church  of 
possessing  solely  the  real  truth,  it  admit- 
ted, nevertheless,  that  "it  is  something  in 
cities  where  the  divinity  of  Christ  and  His 
divine  teaching  are  openly  blasphemed, 
and  where  to  the  great  bulk  of  the  popula- 
tion the  Christian  religion  is  a  matter  of 
complete  indifference,  when  it  is  not  one 
of  scorn,  that  their  ears  should  be  accus- 
tomed to  words  of  adoration  and  love  of 
Him,  and  that  even  the  dreary  wastes  of 
heresy  should  echo  with  the  name  of 
Jesus.  .  .  .  This  work  of  Mr.  Moody's  is 
not  sin.  It  cannot  be  sin  to  invite  men 
to  love  and  serve  Jesus  Christ." 

And  in  a  similar  spirit  to  that  just  cited, 
the  Jewish  Messenger,  referring  to  the 
meetings  contemplated  to  be  held  by  these 
evangelists,  in  the  vast  hippodrome.  New 
York  city,  expressed  it  as  its  opinion  that, 
whatever  objection  might  be  urged  to 
emotional  religion  as  spasmodic,  lacking 
in  substantial  good,  no  man  of  sense  could 
declaim  against  such  services,  if  conducted 
in  the  same  orderly  and  earnest  way  that 
had  characterized  the  meetings  else- 
where. In  the  same  vein  was  the  utter- 
ance of  a  distinguished  preacher  in 
Brooklyn,  N.  Y., — one  representing  the 
extreme  wing  of  the  'liberal'  school, — 
who  declared,  in  a  sermon,  that,  if 
Moody  and  Sankey  could  reach  the 
masses  of  the  people,  "  they  would  per- 
form a  work  for  which  all  lovers  of  man- 
kind would  be  grateful."     That  this  hope 


was     largely     realized,    in    the    case     of 
Brooklyn  itself,  is  well  known. 

One  of  the  events  in  Mr.  Moody's  career 
which  peculiarly  conspired  to  awaken  pop- 
ular enthusiasm  in  behalf  of  him  and  his 
cause,  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  was  the 
account,  which  preceded  his  arrival  in 
America  by  some  weeks,  of  the  extraordi- 
nary occasion  attending  the  close  of  the 
evangelists'  wonderful  labors  in  London, 
and  which,  on  being  read  by  their  friends 
in  this  country,  seemed  like  a  prophecy  of 
great  things  in  store  for  their  native  land, 
when  their  homeward  voyage  should  be 
accomijlished.  It  appeared,  according  to 
the  account  of  the  meeting  referred  to— 
the  last  of  the  immense  gatherings  of  this 
kind  in  that  metropolis  —  that,  for  some 
days  prior  to  its  taking  place,  the  anxiety 
of  the  people  to  obtain  admission  to  the 
hall  amounted  almost  to  a  frenzy,  and  not 
altogether  a  harmless  one.  Numbers  were 
waiting  for  admission  as  early  as  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  or  hours  before  the 
opening, — all  the  approaches  were  crowded 
with  surging  throngs,  some  of  whom  had 
come  from  great  distances,  —  and,  all 
around,  dense  masses  of  men,  women,  and 
children,  were  present,  worked  up  to  the 
highest  point  of  interest  and  expectation. 
Mr.  Moody  found  entrance  through  a  pri- 
vate house  adjoining,  and  with  the  help  of 
a  ladder.  Meetings  were  held  outside,  but 
nothing  less  than  seeing  and  hearing  Mr. 
Moody  would  satisfy  the  densely  packed 
multitude.  Among  the  great  dignitaries 
present  were  the  Queen  of  the  Netherlands 
and  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland.  The  last 
words  of  the  evangelist  were  very  impres- 
sive, as  indeed,  was  the  whole  scene  of 
this  most  memorable  occasion,  and  his  sen- 
timents, as  then  and  there  uttered — rapid, 
spontaneous,  gushing,  —  may  be  said  to 
fitly  represent  the  preacher's  character  and 
power.  '*It  is,"  he  said,  "  the  last  time  I 
shall  have  the  unsj)eakable  privilege  of 
preaching  the  gospel  in  England.  I  have 
never  enjoyed  preaching  so  much  as  I  have 
in  this  country."  "  Have  another  week," 
shouted  a  man.  "  I  want  to  have  you  all 
saved  to-night,"  said  Mr.  Moody,  looking 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


663 


REVIVAL  MEETING  IN   BROOKLYN,  CONDUCTED  BY  MESSRS.  MOODY  AND  SANKEY. 


toward  the  speaker.  "  If  I  were  to  stay 
another  week,  I  could  tell  you  no  more.  I 
have  not  told  you  a  hundredth  part  of  the 
story,  hut  I  have  done  the  best  I  can  with 
this  stammering  tongue.  I  don't  want  to 
close  this  meeting  until  I  see  you  safe 
behind  the  walls  of  the  city  of  refuge. 
During  the  past  thirty  da^'s  I  have  been 
preaching  here,  I  have  tried  to  allure 
you  away  to  that  world  of  light.  I  have 
told  you  of  hell  to  warn  you,  and  I  have 
told  you  of  the  love  of  God.  To-night  I 
have  been  trying  to  illustrate  salvation. 
You  can  receive  Christ  and  be  saved,  or 
reject  him  and  be  lost.  By-and-by  there 
will  be  a  glorious  future,  and  I  Avant  to 
know  how  many  there  are  willing  to  join 
me  for  eternity.  How  many  will  stand  up 
here  before  God  and  man,  and  say,  by  that 
act,  3'ou  will  join  me  for  heaven  ?  Those 
who  are  willing  to  do  so  to-night,  will  you 
just  rise  ?  "     Multitudes  rose  to  their  feet. 


Of  this  remarkable  European  tour  of  the 
evangelists,  one  of  them  afterwards  said, 
"I  remember  when  we  left  home,  not 
knowing  what  was  before  us.  We  landed 
in  Liverpool,  and  found  the  friends  who 
invited  us  over  both  dead.  We  were 
strangers,  but  God  led  us ;  His  S[)irit 
directed  us  up  to  a  dead  town,  where  we 
held  a  prayer-meeting,  at  which,  at  first, 
there  were  hut  four  jiersons  x>resent.  After- 
ward more  came.  People  thought  we  were 
two  Americans  with  sinister  designs.  The 
meetings,  however,  increased  in  interest 
and  power,  and  then  the  work  began." 

In  due  time,  after  returning  to  this 
country,  the  evangelists  commenced  their 
public  labors,  selecting  Brooklyn,  N.  Y., 
as  their  first  field.  No  church  edifice, 
however,  in  that  city,  having  the  seating 
capacity  to  accommodate  the  throng  of 
people  who  desired  to  listen  to  Mr.  Moody's 
powerful  exhortations  and   Mr.  Sankey's 


66-4 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


singing,  the  large  structure  known  as  the 
rink,  on  Clermont  avenue,  was  fitted  up 
for  this  purpose.  It  accommodated  five 
thousand  persons.  The  interior  of  this 
vast  building,  as  viewed  from  the  platform, 
a  large  semi-circular  dais,  was  in  the  high- 
est degree  inspiring.  Mr.  Moody's  posi- 
tion, when  speaking,  was  at  the  center  of 
this  platform,  in  front ;  on  his  left  were 
seats  for  visiting  clergymen;  on  his  right, 
in  front,  was  Mr.  Sankey's  position,  at  a 
small  organ,  on  which  he  played  the  ac- 
companiment to  his  admirable  rendering 
of  the  hj'mns  wdiich  formed  such  a  marked 
and  helpful  feature  of  these  services.  It 
was  in  this  rink,  that,  day  after  day  and 
night  after  night,  for  successive  weeks, 
dense  throngs  assembled,  and  discourse, 
song,  and  prayer  united  to  bring  thousands 
of  hearts  to  religious  consecration.  Out- 
door meetings,  as  well  as  meetings  in  the 
neighboring  churches,  were  also  held  daily, 
with  the  most  beneficial  results,  the  pastors 
joining  heartily  in  the  work,  —  and,  in 
fact,  all  over  the  land,  the  stimulus  to 
renewed  zeal  and  activity  in  spiritual 
things,  received  from  this  source,  was 
most  decided. 

Commencing  in  Brooklyn,  October  24th, 
and  continuing  some  weeks,  only  a  brief 
interval  elapsed  before  the  revivalists  com- 
menced their  labors  in  Philadelphia, 
namely,  on  Sunday  morning,  November 
21st,  the  meetings  being  held  in  the  old 
freight  depot,  at  Thirteenth  and  Market 
streets,  which  had  been  fitted  up  for  this 
use.  The  inclemency  of  the  weather  did 
not  prevent  the  assembling  of  at  least  ten 
thousand  persons  at  the  opening  services, 
including  hundreds  of  prominent  persons. 
Indeed,  long  before  the  hour  of  opening, 
the  streets  leading  to  the  building  were 
alive  with  people  of  every  age  and  condi- 
tion, and  of  both  sexes  ;  thousands  came 
by  the  various  lines  of  passenger  railway 
running  by  or  near  the  spot,  and  other 
thousands  wended  their  way  thither  on 
foot,  many  of  them  coming  weary  dis- 
tances. Within  the  building,  the  sight  of 
such  avast  sea  of  humanity — now  eager  to 
catch  the  earnest  words  of  the   speaker, 


and,  again,  with  heads  bowed  in  solemn 
pra3"er — was  most  impressive ;  nor  was 
it  less  so,  when,  under  Mr.  Sankey's  in- 
spiring leadership,  the  joyous  nniltitude 
united  in  singing  those  sweet  and  favorite 
songs,  ''Hold  the  Fort,"  "The  Ninety  and 
Nine,"  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth  Passeth  by," 
etc.  The  interest  and  enthusiasm  in  these 
meetings  continued  without  abatement  for 
consecutive  weeks,  not  the  least  interested 
among  the  attendants,  during  one  of  the 
December  sessions,  being  President  Grant, 
with  members  of  his  cabinet. 

New  York  city  w^as  the  next  field  of 
labor  chosen  by  the  evangelists,  the  hippo- 
drome being  chosen  by  the  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association  of  that  city,  for  the 
meetings,  the  opening  one  taking  place 
February  4,  1876.  Both  halls,  the  larger 
containing  seven  thousand  persons,  and 
the  smaller,  containing  four  thousand 
were  filled,  and  several  thousand  persons 
more  stood  outside.  Distinguished  preach- 
ers occupied  the  platform ;  a  choir  of 
twelve  hundred  voices  conducted  the  sing- 
ing; Mr.  Moody  preached  with  great 
power;  and  the  spectacle  altogether  was 
truly  sublime.  Mr.  Sankey  carried  all 
hearts  with  him  while  he  sang  "Hold  the 
Fort,"  the  people  joining  in  the  chorus. 
There  was  not  only  no  diminution  in 
enthusiasm  or  attendance  while  the  meet- 
ings were  in  progress,  but  rain  and  storm 
offered  no  obstacle  to  the  pressing  throngs. 
Mr.  Moody  gained  favor  constantly  by  the 
judicious  judgment  which  he  showed  in 
his  management  both  of  the  people  and 
himself;  and  when,  on  one  occasion,  he 
said,  "I  want  no  false  excitement,"  the 
expressions  of  approval  were  unmistaka- 
ble. On  Sunda}',  February  13th,  the  en- 
tire attendance  was  estimated  to  be  from 
twenty  to  twenty-five  thousand ;  even  as 
earl 3'  as  eight  o'clock,  A.  M.,  at  a  special 
meeting  for  Christians,  the  admission 
being  by  ticket,  over  four  thousand  per- 
sons were  present;  at  three  o'clock,  r.  M., 
a  meeting  specially  for  women  was  at- 
tended by  more  than  six  thousand  of  them  ; 
and  in  the  evening,  when  men  alone  were 
admitted,  the  audience  numbered  some  ten 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


665 


thousand.  At  all  these  services  the  order 
was  perfect,  and  all  hearts  seemed  iu 
accord.  Though  a  Eoman  Catholic,  Dom 
Pedro,  emperor  of  Brazil,  being  iu  tin; 
city  on  his  American  tour,  during  the 
holding  of  the  meetings,  became  an  audi- 
tor, and  was   not  only   deeply   moved  by 


such  a  vast  and  unusual  spectacle,  but 
expressed  his  admiration  of  Mr.  Moody's 
fervid  preaching  and  Mr.  Sankey's  beauti- 
ful songs.  The  New  York  meetings  were 
succeeded  by  visits  from  the  evangelists  to 
the  south  and  west,  with  the  most  benefi- 
cial results. 


LXXVII. 

UNRIVALED   PERFORMANCES   BY  PAUL   MORPHY,   THE 
AMERICAN  CHESS  CHAMPION.— 1858. 


His  Extreme  Youth,  Marvelous  Gifts  and  Genius,  and  Astonishing  Triumphs. — The  Most  Renowned 
Players  in  America  and  Europe  Vanquished  by  Him. — His  Wonderful  Victories  in  Blindfold  Games 
with  the  Veteran  Masters  of  Chess. — Morphy's  Bust  Crowned  with  Laurel  in  Paris — Honors  and 
Testimonials  at  Home — Morphy's  Personal  History. — Early  Aptness  for  Chess. — Skill  When  Twelve 
Years  Old  — Introduction  to  the  Public. — At  the  National  Chess  Congress. — Great  Champions  There. 
— Morpliy  Takes  the  First  Prize. — Wins  Eighty-one  out  of  Eighty-four  Games. — Professional  Visit 
Abroad. — Challenges  the  Chess  Celebrities. — His  Boyish  Appearance. — Modesty  and  Great  Memory. 
— Aspect  when  at  Play. — His  Brilliant  Combinations — Feats  Performed  in  Paris. — Long  and  Pro- 
found Games — Great  Match  Against  Eight. — Unparalleled  Spectacle. — Victor  over  Every  Rival. — 
Without  a  Peer  in  the  World. — Banquets  to  Him  in  Europe. — America  Proud  of  Her  Son. 


"  Mr.  Morphy  alvrays  plays,  not  merely  the  best,  but  the  vert  bestmoTe;  and  if  we  play  the  move  only  approximately  correct,  we  are 
surctoloae.    Nobody  can  hope  to  gain  more  than  a  game,  now  and  then,  from  liim."— Akderssen,  tub  Chess  CUAuriux  in  Gekmany. 


EST  and  good  humor  possessed  the  puhlic  mind,  from  one  end  of  the 
country  to  the  other,  as  the  triumphs    of  Paul   Morphy,  the   chess 
champion  of  the  world,  though  scarcely  yet  attained  to  manhood, 
were  announced  one  after  the  other,  in  an  almost  unbroken  series 
at  home  and  abroad,  and  against  such  odds  as  no 
other  person  of  similar  years  had  ever  before  en- 
countered.    His  name    was  a   pleasant  charm   in 
every  mouth,  and  great  was  the  honor  accorded  to 
America  when  this  New  Orleans  youth  fought,  and 
fairly  beat  on  their  own  ground,  and  in  the  pres- 
ence of  thronging  crowds,  all  the  greatest  profes- 
sors,  not  only  in  England  but  in  Europe,  of  the 

MOIll'HY'S   WOKLU-HENOWNED   TRIUMPHS.         nOOlC    gamC   Ot   ClieSS. 

The  history  of  this  extraordinary  young  man,  as  given  by  his  biographers  at  the 
period  named,  shows  an  astonishing  natural  adaptation  to  and  fondness  for  the  game, 
combined  with  the  most  patient  and  enduring  study.  He  was  born  in  New  Orleans,  in 
June,  1837.  His  father,  a  lawyer,  and  judge  of  the  supreme  court  of  Louisiana,  was 
fond  of  chess,  and  taught  it  to  his  son  at  a  very  early  age.  His  inclination  to  it  was  very 
strong,  and  his  assiduity  in  cultivating  it  enormous.  At  the  age  of  ten  years  he  was 
familiar  with  the  moves  of  the  game  ;  and  when  he  was  only  twelve,  he  pla3'ed  with 
the  celebrated  Herr  Lowen^^hal — a  European  player  of  the  first  strength,  who  happened 
to  be  visiting  the  Crescent  City, — and  the  result  was  that  the  veteran  and  world-famous 
player  lost  two  games  and  drew  one  in  contending  with  this  little  lad.     Erom  that  time 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


667 


forth,  the  name  of  Paul  ]\rori)hy  Avas  noised 
abroad  in  the  chess  circles  of  America  witli 
great  commendation ;  few  were  to  be  found 
bold  enough  to  cope  with  him,  and  when 
they  did  so,  it  was  to  meet  with  unvaried 
defeat.  Such  a  phenomenon  as  Morphy 
was  perfectly  unaccountable. 

On  the  assembling  of  the  National 
Chess  Congress  in  New  York,  in  1857,  Mr. 
Morphy  was  for  the  first  time  introduced 
to  the  public.  His  youthful  appearance 
and  wonderful  power  soon  made  him  the 
center  of  attraction,  and  as  the  labors  of 
the  Congress  proceeded,  it  became  appar- 
ent that  he  would  be  its  champion — a 
position  that  he  finally  won  by  the  remark- 
able force  of  his  combinations  and  the 
marvelous  skill  and  foresight  of  his  de- 
signs, winning  some  eighty-one  out  of 
eighty-four  games,  his  opponents  being 
unrivaled  players.  Paulsen,  Lichtenhein, 
Thompson,  Montgomery,  Hammond,  and 
Stanley,  all  succumbed  to  his  superior 
power,  and  he  carried  off  the  first  prize  of 
the  American  Chess  Congress. 

Confident  in  his  powers,  Morphy  now 
sent  a  challenge  to  Mr.  Staunton,  the 
champion  of  English  chess,  inviting  him 
to  play  at  a  match,  the  stakes  to  be  five 
thousand  dollars.  But  Mr.  Staunton  de- 
clined, on  account  of  the  distance.  Mr. 
Morphy's  enthusiasm  soon  led  him  to  visit 
England,  and  there  the  youthful  hero  was 
received  with  most  distinguished  atten- 
tions. His  opponents  at  the  chess-board 
were  the  very  strongest  in  the  English 
field,  including  such  men  as  Lowenthal, 
Boden,  and  other  celebrities.  Mr.  Mor- 
phy's appearance,  during  these  great  strug- 
gles, is  described  by  the  English  press  as 
exceedingly  interesting — indeed,  curious. 
His  slight,  even  boyish  frame,  his  puny 
limbs,  small  face  (though  redeemed  by  the 
high  and  massive  brow  towering  above  it), 
the  almost  infantine  expression  of  his 
features,  rendered  it  difficult  for  English- 
men to  believe  that  this  was  the  great 
mental  phenomenon  of  whom  all  were  talk- 
ing and  at  whom  all  were  marveling.  His 
attitude  was  one  of  remarkable  modesty, 
evidently  quite  unaffected, — not  a  sparkle 


of  triuni])h  iu  his  e3-e,  not  a  flash  of  half- 
concealed  exultation  on  his  cheek ;  nothing 
but  a  perfectly  motionless  and  inscrutable 
impassibility,  a  gazing  calmly  and  stead- 
fastly onwards  to  the  end  in  view,  as  if 
with  a  fixed  determination  to  attain  that 
end;  and  an  utter  disregard  for  any  small 
triumph  of  conquest  for  doing  what  he  was 
irresistibly  compelled  to  do.  And  as  he 
looked,  so  he  was,  invincible.  Game  after 
game  was  won  with  a  precision  truly  mar- 
velous, and  that  not  so  much  by  what  is 
called  steady  play,  as  by  a  series  of  brill- 
iant combinations,  depending  upon  calcu- 
lations involving  sometimes  many  moves, 
and  followed  out  with  an  unerring  cer- 
tainty that  must  have  been  as  terrible  to 
his  opponent  as  it  was  admirable  to  all  the 
spectators.  During  one  day,  he  played 
and  won  eleven  profound  games,  and,  after 
returning  to  his  lodgings  at  night,  he 
recapitulated  from  memory,  to  a  friend, 
every  game,  pointing  out  the  variations 
minutely,  and  demonstrating  the  critical 
positions  at  which  each  was  won  or  lost. 
This  showed  not  only  his  superlative 
genius  as  a  player,  but  also  his  astonishing 
power  of  memory.  Among  his  antago- 
nists in  London  was  the  renowned  Mr. 
Lowenthal ;  fourteen  games  were  played, 
of  which  Mr.  Morphy  won  nine,  Mr.  Low- 
enthal three,  and  two  were  drawn.  In- 
deed, Mr.  Morphy  Mas  victorious  over  all 
who  opposed  him,  in  London,  and  on  the 
Continent  it  was  the  same. 

In  Paris,  he  encountered  such  men  as 
Harrwitz,  Riviere,  Laroche,  Journoud,  and 
Devinck ;  but  the  most  celebrated  rival 
with  whom  he  was  matched,  while  in 
Europe,  was  Adolph  Anderssen,  the  ac- 
knowledged champion  of  German  chess, — 
the  result  of  this  match  being  Morphy 
seven,  Anderssen  two,  drawn  two.  Though 
deprived  of  his  long-enjoyed  sujDremacy  as 
the  king  among  European  chessmen,  An- 
derssen magnanimously  said  :  "  Mr.  Mor- 
phy always  plays,  not  merely  the  best,  but 
the  vei'U  best  move ;  and  if  we  play  the 
move  only  approximately  correct,  we  are 
sure  to  lose.  Nobody  can  hope  to  gain 
more  than  a  game,  now  and  then,  from 


G68 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


him."  And  again,  this  great  master  of 
chess  said  of  his  conqueror,  "  It  is  impossi- 
ble to  play  chess  better  than  Mr.  Morphy ; 
if  there  be  any  difference  in  strength 
between  him  and  Labourdonnais,  it  is  in 
his  favor."  Another  great  player,  after 
trying  him,  said  :  "  It  is  of  no  use  ;  it  is 
uncertainty  strurjgling  against  certainty. ^^ 
Such  astounding  feats  as  those  per- 
formed by  Mr.  IMorphj',  in  Paris,  brought 
the  excitement  in  the  chess-playing  world 
of  that  city  up  to  white  heat ;  and  the 
memorable  occasion  when  he  played  against 
and  beat,  blindfolded,  eight  of  the  best 
plaj'ers  of  Paris,  at  one  time,  led  some  to 
believe  that  he  possessed  almost  super- 
natural faculties.  The  cafe  de  la  regence, 
at  which  this  extraordinary  feat  occurred, 
had  two  large  rooms  on  the  ground  floor. 
In  the  first  room,  wdiich  was  full  of  marble 
tables,  were  seated  the  eight  adversaries  of 
]Mr.  Morphy.  In  the  second  room,  in 
which  were  two  billiard  tables,  was  seated 
the  single  player.  A  large  portion  of  this 
room,  including  the  billiard  tables,  was 
shut  off  from  the  crowd  by  a  cord,  and 
behind  the  tables,  in  a  large  armchair,  sat 
Mr.  Morphy,  with  his  back  to  the  crowd. 
Two  gentlemen,  reporting  for  the  press, 
kept  the  game,  and  two  other  gentlemen, 
Messrs.  Journoud  and  Riviere,  cried  out 
the  moves,  or  carried  them  from  one  room 
to  the  other.  The  adversaries  of  Mr. 
Morphy  were  all  either  old  or  middle-aged 
men,  and  eminent  as  skillful  players. 
The  boards  of  the  eight  players  were  num- 
bered 1,  2,  3,  etc.,  and  at  half-past  twelve 
o'clock  the  game  commenced,  Mr,  Morphy 
playing  first,  and  calling  out  the  same 
move  for  all  the  eigiit  boards,  KP  2.  At 
seven  o'clock,  No.  7  was  beaten  with  an 
unlooked-for  check-mate.  Soon  after  eight 
o'clock.  No.  6  abandoned  the  game  as 
hopeless  ;  and,  half  an  hour  latei-.  No.  5 
played  for  and  gained  a  draw  game.  "Nos. 
1,  2,  and  3,  were  soon  after  beaten.  At 
ten  o'clock,  No.  4  made  the  blind  player 
accept  a  draw  game,  but  it  was  half-past 
ten  before  M.  Seguin,  No.  8,  a  very  old 
gentleman,  who  contended  with  great  des- 
peration,  was  beaten.     Thus  he  beat  six, 


while  two,  who  acted  on  the  defensive  and 
only  sought  a  draw  game — equivalent  to  a 
defeat — effected  their  purpose. 

During  the  entire  game,  which  lasted 
just  ten  hours,  Mr.  Morphy  sat  with  his 
knees  and  eyes  against  the  bare  walls, 
never  once  rising  or  looking  toward  the 
audience,  nor  even  taking  a  particle  of 
drink  or  other  refreshment.  His  only 
movements  were  those  of  crossing  his  legs 
from  side  to  side,  and  occasionally  thump- 
ing a  tune  with  his  fingers  on  the  arms  of 
the  chair.  He  cried  out  his  moves  with- 
out turning  his  head.  Against  1,  2,  3,  6, 
and  7,  who  were  not  up  to  the  standard  of 
the    other   three    players,    he   frequently 


made  his  moves  instantaneously  after  re- 
ceiving theirs.  He  was  calm  throughout, 
and  never  made  a  mistake,  nor  did  he  call 
a  move  twice.  And,  as  around  each  of  the 
eight  boards  there  was  a  large  collection  of 
superior  chess  pla_yers,  who  gave  their  ad- 
vice freely,  and  who  had  eight  times  longer 
to  study  their  play  in  than  the  single  plaj'er, 
Mr.  Morphy  played  certainly  against  fifty 
men,  and  they  never  ceased  for  a  moment 
making  supposed  moves,  and  studj'ing  their 
game  most  thoroughlj^,  during  the  long 
intervals  that  necessarily  fell  to  each  board. 
At  the  end  of  the  game,  a  triumphant 
shout  of  applause  went  up  from  the  three 
hundred  throats  present,  many  of  them 
Englishmen  and  Americans  (among  the 
latter  was  Professor  Morse,  who  took  a 
deep  interest  in  this  extraordinary  game), 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


669 


but  miu'h  the  larger  number  were  French. 
IMorphy  did  not  seem  at  all  fatigued,  and 
appeared  so  modest  that  the  frenzy  of  the 
Erench  knew  no  bounds.  He  was  shaken 
by  the  hand  and  complimented  till  he  hung 
down  his  head  in  confusion.  One  gray- 
haired  old  man,  an  octogenarian  chess- 
player, stroked  Mr.  Morphy's  hair  with  his 
hands,  as  he  would  a  child  of  his  own,  and 
showered  him  with  terms  of  endearment. 
The  waiters  of  the  cafe  had  formed  a  pleas- 
ant conspiracy  to  carry  Morphy  in  triumph 
on  tlu'ir  shoulders,  but  the  multitude  was 
so  compact  and  demonstrative  that  they 
could  not  get  near  him,  and  finally  had  to 
abandon  the  attempt.  These  blindfold 
games  he  also  played  with  equal  success  in 
Birmingham. 

No  less  a  man  than  Mr.  Mongredien, 
the  president  of  the  London  chess  club, 
went  to  Paris,  still  further  to  satisfy  him- 
self as  to  the  real  merit  of  Mr.  IMorphy's 
playing,  and  as  to  the  rank  he  ought  to 
occupy.  Mr.  Mongredien  and  Mr.  IMorphy 
played  eight  games,  one  of  which,  the  first 
one,  was  drawn,  and  the  others  were 
gained  by  Mr.  Morphy.  In  this  trial  of 
skill,  two  facts  were  remarked  in  regard  to 
Mr.  Morphy's  playing — which  were  also 
almost  universally  remarked  in  his  games 
when  contesting  with  a  first-rate  plaj'er. 
These  were,  that  he  seldom  won  the  first 
game,  and  that  up  to  about  the  twentieth 
move  he  rarely  showed  any  superiority 
over  his  competitor.  It  was  only  after 
that  point  in  the  game,  that  he  commenced 
those  extraordinary  and  unlooked-for 
moves  which  astonished  the  audience  and 
crushed  his  antagonist  beyond  hope  of 
recovery. 

Previously  to  his  departure  from  Paris, 
a  splendid  banquet  was  given  him,  on 
which  occasion  the  most  eminent  French 
jdayers  did  him  the  unprecedented  honor 
of  crowning  his  bust  with  laurel. 

Returning  to  America,  the  young  Achil- 
les of  Chess  was  everywhere  received  with 
spontaneous  demonstrations  of  enthusiasm, 
and  in  the  great  cities  he  was  the  recipi- 
ent of  splendid  testimonials,  worthy  of  his 
achievements  and  renown. 


It  was  in  New  York,  that  Mr.  Morphy 
was  honored  with  such  an  ovation  as  rarely 
falls  to  the  lot  of  earth's  greatest  heroes, 
and  still  more  rarely  in  simple  recognition 
of  a  peculiar  talent  or  genius.  About  fif- 
teen hundred  ladies  and  gentlemen  were 
in  attendance  on  this  occasion,  and  the 
presentation  speech  was  made  by  John 
Van  Buren,  to  which  Mr.  Morphy  rei)liod 
in  a  neat  and  graceful  manner.  The 
cadeaux  which  he  received  from  the  chess 
club  were  of  dazzling  magnificence, — chess 
men  in  gold,  boards  of  equally  costly  mate- 
rial, wreaths  of  silver  in  imitation  of  laurel, 
costly  watches,  etc.,  etc. 

To  the  tune  of  "  See  the  Conquering 
Hero  Comes,"  Mr.  Morphy  entered  the 
thronged  and  magnificent  hall.  As  the 
procession  reached  the  platform,  and  the 
figure  of  Morphy  became  visible  to  the 
great  body  of  the  audience,  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  assemblage  was  intense.  Amidst 
almost  deafening  applause,  the  youthful 
champion  took  a  seat  assigned  him  by  the 
side  of  Mr.  Charles  O'Conor,  and  calmly 
surveyed  the  exciting  scene.  To  those 
who  had  not  seen  the  victor  before,  his 
extreme  ^^outh,  mild  expression  and  unas- 
suming manner,  were  matters  of  complete 
but  most  pleasurable  surprise.  The  hero 
of  the  Cafe  de  Regence,  the  successful 
competitor  of  Harrwitz  and  Anderssen,  the 
champion  of  the  world  in  the  profound 
game  of  chess,  was  but  a  lad  in  appearance 
and  demeanor,  and  evidently  without  the 
least  self-consciousness  of  his  marvelous 
power. 

Mr.  Van  Buren,  in  his  eloqiient  present- 
ation speech,  gave  a  short  review  of  the 
history  of  chess  and  of  the  eminent  per- 
sonages who  had  distinguished  themselves 
as  players  ;  alluded  to  the  rapid  course  and 
achievements  of  Mr.  Morphy,  who,  in 
1857,  commenced  his  career  in  New  Or- 
leans, and,  early  in  1858,  was  the  acknowl- 
edged victor,  over  all  competitors,  at  New 
York,  and  had  reached  the  culminating 
point  in  the  halls  of  Paris  and  London ; 
spoke  of  the  thousand  and  more  years  in 
which  chess  had  been  known  in  various  por- 
tions of  the  world — that  it  had  been  taught 


670 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


and  valued  on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges,  in 
the  remote  regions  of  Iceland — throughout 
Europe,  Asia,  and  in  many  parts  even  of 
Africa;  instanced  Franklin,  Charlemagne, 
Catherine  de  Medicis,  Leo  X.,  Voltaire,  all 
ot  whom  were  lovers  of  the  game,  and 
Napoleon,  who  had  played  in  the  identical 
cafe  where  Mr.  Morph}'^  had  won  his  victo- 
ries. The  orator  then  read  a  letter  from 
Professor  Morse,  who  mentioned  being 
present  at  one  of  the  games  in  Paris, 
where  Mr.  Morphy  was  received  with 
great  enthusiasm.  A  quotation  was  also 
read  from  Dr.  Franklin's  writings,  in 
which  he  avowed  himself  the  friend  of  the 
chess  board,  pointing  out  its  representation 


to  name  j^ou  "the  chivalrous  Bayard  of 
Chess."  But  it  is  not  for  your  qualities 
or  conduct  only  as  a  chess  player,  that  I 
have  united  in  this  proceeding.  Your 
intercourse  with  your  friends  here,  the 
accounts  we  have  from  New  Orleans,  the 
uniform  representations  from  abroad,  all 
concur  in  showing  that  in  high-bred  cour- 
tesy, true  generosity  and  courage,  innate 
modesty  and  strict  integrity,  you  have 
illustrated  at  home  and  abroad  the  charac- 
ter of  an  American  gentleman  ;  and  it  is, 
therefore,  with  unaffected  pride,  that  I 
have  become  the  medium  of  conveying  to 
you  the  sentiments  that  I  have  expressed, 
and  that  I  again  offer  for  your  acceptance 


I'ADL  MOKl'lIV    FLAYING   EIGHT   GAMES 

of  real  life  in  inculcating  foresight,  circum- 
spection, and  principles  of  assault  and 
defense. 

After  felicitously  describing  Mr.  Mor- 
phy's  position  to  be  like  one  laying  aside 
his  weapons,  and  sighing,  with  Alexander, 
that  there  were  no  more  worlds  to  conquer, 
Mr.  Van  Buren  closed  by  saying:  "  IVIr. 
Morphy — Your  readiness  to  engage  at  all 
times,  and  with  all  comers,  in  chess  con- 
tests— your  refusal  to  make  the  condition 
of  your  health  an  excuse  or  a  rea.son  for 
declining — your  utter  rejection  of  all  ad- 
vantages that  might  be  your  due  in  a  con- 
test, and  the  intrepid  spirit  you  manifested 
at  Paris,  induced  Mons.  St.  Arnaut,  one  of 
the  ablest  and  frankest  of  your  adversaries, 


OF   CHESS    WITHOUT   SEEING  THE   BOARD. 


this  appropriate  token  of  the  regard  of 
your  countrymen  and  of  their  recognition 
of  your  services."  The  orator  concluded 
by  asking  the  vast  audience  to  unite  with 
him  "in  welcoming,  with  all  the  honors, 
Paul  MorpJty,  the  Chess  Champion  of  the 
World, ^^  and  sat  down  amidst  the  wildest 
applause. 

JVIr.  Morphy,  on  rising  to  respond,  grace- 
fully accepted  the  gift,  and,  in  the  course 
of  his  remarks,  spoke  of  chess,  "  the  kingly 
pastime,"  as  a  game  that  "  never  has  been 
and  never  can  be  aught  but  a  recreation. 
It  should  not  be  indulged  in  to  the  detri- 
ment of  other  and  more  serious  avocations 
— should  not  absorb  the  mind  or  engross 
the  thoughts  of  those  who  worship  at  its 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


671 


shrine;  but  shoakl  be  kei)t  in  the  back- 
ground and  restrained  witlun  its  province. 
As  a  mere  game,  a  relaxation  from  the 
severer  pursuits  of  life,  it  is  deserving  of 
(ligh  commendation.  It  is  not  only  the 
most  deligiitful  and  scientific,  but  the  most 
moral  of  amusements.  Unlike  other  games, 
in  which  lucre  is  the  end  and  aim  of  the 
contestants,  it  recommends  itself  to  the 
wise,  by  the  fact  that  its  mimic  battles  are 
fought  for  no  prize  but  honor.  It  is  emi- 
nently and  emphatically  the  philosopher's 
game.  Let  the  chess-board  supersede  the 
card-table,  and  a  great  improvement  will 
be  visible  in  the  morals  of  the  community." 
Mr.  Morphy's  manner  and  matter  won 
upon  all  hearts,  and  his  pleasant  speech 
was  followed  by  deafening  cheers. 

Another  grand  ovation  awaited  Mr. 
Morphj'  at  Boston,  to  which  city  he  pro- 
ceeded soon  after  the  close  of  the  elegant 
hospitalities  extended  him  in  New  York. 
On  arriving  in  Boston,  Mr.  Morphy  gave 
a  public  reception,  under  the  auspices  of 
the  Boston  Chess  Club,  whose  guest  he 
was.  A  brilliant  company  of  friends  and 
admirers  assembled  at  an  early  hour,  and, 
on  Mr.  Morphy  making  his  appearance,  he 
was  ushered  into  a  reception  room,  where 
a  large  number  of  gentlemen  crowded 
around  him,  eager  to  see  and  greet  the 
youthful  hero  of  numberless  chess  battles. 
After  having  been  introduced  to  several  of 
the  most  distinguished  persons  present, 
Mr.  Morphy  was  conducted  into  a  large 
and  magnificent  apartment  of  the  club  and 
seated  himself  at  a  chess  table,  which  was 
surrounded  by  ladies  of  beauty  and  fashion. 

Mr.  Morphy  quietly  proceeded  to  ar- 
range the  chess-men,  seemingly  uncon- 
scious of  the  fact  that  he  was  the  conspic- 
uous mark  of  multitudes  of  bright  and 
beautiful  eyes.  Mr.  W.  R.  Broughton, 
who  was  considered  one  of  the  best  players 
in  the  city,  was  selected  as  Mr.  Morphy's 
opponent.  In  order  to  lessen  the  crowd, 
which  was  very  large,  arrangements  were 
made  to  announce  the  moves  in  the  oppo- 
site room,  and  the  various  tables  therein 
were  speedily  surrounded  by  those  inter- 
ested in  the  game.     The   game  and  com- 


ments commenced  simultaneously,  Mr. 
Murphy  giving  his  opponent  the  odds  of 
the  Queen's  Knight.  President  Sparks, 
Professor  Longfellow,  Professor  Pierce,  R. 
H.  Dana,  Jr.,  Hon.  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr., 
Mayor  Lincoln,  Professor  Huntington, 
and  other  eminent  men,  were  present,  and 
exhibited  deep  interest  in  the  progress  of 
the  game,  at  every  successive  step. 

Mr.  Morphy's  moves  were  sudden, — gen- 
erally made  on  the  instant.  Mr.  Brough- 
ton moved  only  after  the  most  careful 
study.  "  Do  you  understand  the  game  ?" 
inquired  one  venerable  and  distinguished 
gentleman  of  another.  "  No ;  but  I  am 
deeply  interested  in  Morphy ;  he  seems  so 
modest  and  self-possessed."  '*  That's  true  ; 
there  is  something  extraordinary  in  his 
appearance,  but  I  can't  really  make  out 
what  it  is."  People  generally  conversed 
in  whispers,  during  the  exciting  joust, 
pronouncing  his  moves  "fertile,"  "brill- 
iant," "dashing,"  and  one  young  gentle- 
man declared  in  a  low  tone  of  voice,  that 
the  youthful  champion  was  a  "  perfect 
stunner."  Gentlemen  of  advanced  years 
asserted,  when  the  game  was  half-finished, 
that  Mr.  Broughton  "didn't  stand  any 
sort  of  a  chance."  The  game  lasted  until 
ten  o'clock,  when  Mr.  Broughton  acknowl- 
edged that  he  was  vanquished,  and  Mr. 
Morphy  was  then  introduced  to  a  large 
number  of  admirers,  both  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, the  great  majority  of  whom  had 
remained  standing  during  the  entire  even- 
ing, so  great  was  their  interest  in  the 
game. 

For  several  successive  daj's,  Mr.  Morphy 
was  the  recipient  of  the  most  flattering 
attentions  in  Boston, — feted  in  all  sorts  of 
ways,  and  waited  upon  by  many  of  the 
most  eminent  men  of  the  city  and  state, — 
in  all  of  which  he  maintained  the  same 
modest  and  unassuming  demeanor  with 
which  fame  had  so  long  stamped  him.  He 
won  golden  opinions  from  all  who  observed 
or  came  in  contact  with  him. 

But  the  most  notable  event  in  Mr.  Mor- 
phy's reception  at  Boston,  was  the  grand 
banquet  given  in  his  honor  at  the  Revere 
House,   May  31st,    by  the   Boston  Chess 


672 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Club.  All  the  arrangements  for  the  even- 
ing were  of  the  most  superb  and  costly 
description,  the  tables  were  covered  with 
the  choicest  viands,  and  the  finest  of  music 
enlivened  the  occasion.  Among  the  dis- 
tinguished persons  at  the  tables  were  Chief 
Justice  Shaw,  Professors  Agassiz,  Pierce, 
Huntington,  and  Sparks,  Judge  Parker, 
President  Walker,  of  Harvard  College,  J. 
E.  Lowell,  E.  P.  Whipple,  James  T. 
Fields,  Judge  Thomas,  Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes, 
Hon.  Josiah  Quincy,  Mayor  Lincoln,  Sen- 
ator Wilson,  and  many  others. 

Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes  presided,  and  made 
a  felicitous  address  of  welcome  to  the  guest 
of  the  evening,  who,  he  declared,  had  hon- 
ored all  who  glory  in  the  name  of  Ameri- 
cans, as  the  hero  of  a  long  series  of  blood- 
less battles,  won  for  the  common  country. 


Dr.  Holmes  concluded  by  giving,  as  a  sen- 
timent, "  The  health  of  Paul  Morphy,  the 
world's  cliess  champion  :  His  peaceful  bat- 
tles have  helped  to  achieve  a  new  revolu- 
tion ;  his  youthful  triumphs  have  added  a 
new  clause  to  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence." On  rising  to  respond,  Mr. 
Morphy  was  received  with  nine  tumultu- 
ous cheers.  He  spoke  of  the  unaffected  dif- 
fidence with  which  he  stood  in  the  presence 
of  such  an  intellectual  audience,  gracefully 
tendered  his  thanks  for  the  cordial  welcome 
extended  him,  and  remarked  upon  chess  as 
the  best  relaxation  amidst  the  more  serious 
pursuits  of  iii'e,  and,  as  such,  afforded  an 
excellent  discipline  for  the  mind.  Mr. 
Morphy's  appearance  was  exceedingly  pre- 
possessing, and  all  hearts  were  united  in 
his  favor. 


LXXYIII. 

BURNING  OF  THE  STEAMSHIP  AUSTRIA,  ON  HER  WAT 
FROM   HAMBURG  TO  NEW  YORK.— 1858. 


She  Takes  Fire  on  the  Eleventh  Day,  from  Combustion  of  the  Hot  Tar  Used  in  Fumigation. — Three 
Decks  Instantly  in  a  Blaze.— Inability  to  Stop  the  Engines. — The  Ship  Continues  on  Her  Course  in 
Furious  Flames  — Torture  ami  Death  in  Every  Form. — Nearly  Five  Hundred  Men,  Women,  and 
Children  Lost. — A  Hot  Chain  in  the  Bucket  of  Tar. — Sudden  and  Singular  Ignition. — Rapid  Headway 
of  the  Flames — They  Leap  Up  the  SIirou<ls — Powerlessness  of  the  Officers. — The  Captain  Panic- 
Stricken — Frantic  Conduct  of  Passengers. — Swamping  of  tlie  Boats. — Children  Trodden  Under  Foot. 
— Writhing  in  the  Heat — Shrieks  and  Cries. — Being  Roasted  Alive. — Only  One  Boat  Afloat. — Jump- 
ing Into  the  Waves. — Last  Embrace  of 


Lovers,  —  Adieus  of  Husbands  and 
Wives. — Seven  Brothers  and  Sisters. — 
Struggles  of  the  Firemen. — A  Living 
Wall  of  Fire. — Fate  of  the  Women. — 
Father  and  Son.— "A  Sail!  "—Rescue 
of  a  Few. 


T^^^^rt-       "  Then  rose  from  fpn  to  slcv  (he  wild  farewi  11. 

'  "  -^-^^^        Then  shrieked  the  timid,  u'nd  stood  6iill  the  brave." 


ESCAPE  FROM  THE  BURNING   STEAMER. 


TARTLING  and  terrible  as  was  the  tragedy  of  the  foundering  of  the  Central 
America,  in  September,  1857,  the  horrors  which  invested  the  burning  of  the  steamer 
Austria,  in  September,  1858,  with  her  precious  freight  of  hundreds  of  human  beings, 
sent  such  a  thrill  of  agony  through  two  continents,  as  no  mortal  pen  can  fitly  describe. 

The  Austria  was  one  of  the  four  screw-steamers  of  the  Kew  York  and  Hamburg  line, 
was  constructed  of  iron,  and,  in  proportion  to  her  size,  rated  as  one  of  the  finest  and 
strongest  steamers  tliat  ever  crossed  the  Atlantic.  The  measurement  of  this  noble  craft 
was  two  thousand  five  hundred  tons. 

The  ill-fated  ship,  commanded  by  Captain  Heydtmann,  sailed  from  Hamburg  for 
Southampton  and  New  York,  on  the  second  of  September,  1858,  with  passengers  and 
crew  numbering  five  hundred  and  thirty-eight  souls.  On  the  thirteenth  of  September, 
Captain  Heydtmann  and  the  physician  gave  orders  to  have  the  vessel  fumigated,  and 
the  fourth  officer  was  charged  with  the  execution  of  the  order.  He  directed  the  boat- 
swain's mate  to  take  a  bucket  of  tar  and  a  piece  of  hot  iron,  and  go  into  the  forward 
steerage  to  fumigate  it.  They  heated  a  piece  of  chain  and  dipped  it  into  the  tar,  to 
make  a  smoke  ;  but  the  chain  was  so  hot  that  it  set  the  tar  on  fire.  At  the  same  time, 
the  other  end  of  the  chain  became  too  hot  to  hold,  and  the  boatswain's  mate  let  it  fall, 
thus  upsetting  the  bucket  of  tar,  which,  being  already  on  fire,  rapidly  spread  over  the 
deck  in  all  directions.  The  flames  from  the  tar  immediately  set  fire  to  the  berths  and 
43 


674 


OUE,  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


mattresses  in  the  steerage,  and  spread 
along  the  deck  with  incredible  rapidity. 
In  an  instant  it  ran  through  the  gangways 
to  the  hatchways  at  the  entrance  of  the 
first  and  second  cabins  toward  the  poop, 
blazing  up  through  them  like  a  blast  fur- 
nace, and  thus  cutting  off  all  retreat  for 
those  who  were  below.  The  cause  of  the 
fire  communicating  to  all  parts  of  the 
vessel  so  readily,  was,  that  the  day  was 
very  pleasant,  the  wind  light,  with  a 
smooth  sea, — and,  in  order  to  fumigate  the 
vessel  more  thoroughly,  all  the  port-lioles, 
state-rooms,  and  doors  in  the  bulkheads, 
were  opened,  to  allow  of  a  free  circulation 
of  air  and  a  complete  ventilation.  Thus, 
in  less  than  five  minutes,  the  upper  deck 
amidships  was  on  fire. 

And  now,  an  instantaneous  2'>0''nic  arose, 
'paralijzbirj  alike  the  ship's  company  and 
the  passengers. 

Every  one  on  board  appeared  perfectly 
wild,  tlie  women  crjang  out,  "  The  ship  is 
on  fire  !  What  will  become  of  us  ?  "  Some 
gave  themselves  up  to  despair  at  once,  and 
engaged  in  loud  and  distressing  appeals  of 
prayer;  others  shrieked  and  screamed; 
others,  again,  swooned  and  became  help- 
less, and  almost  unconscious  of  the  awful 
fate  that  awaited  them,  of  being  burned 
alive  ;  while  but  a  small  number,  compara- 
tively, of  the  human  beings  on  board,  had 
presence  of  mind  and  firmness  enough  to 
go  properly  to  work  to  save  themselves, 
and  even  those  met  with  impediments 
which  too  frequently  exist  in  such  contin- 
gencies to  the  saving  of  life. 

Although  there  were  ten  boats,  capable 
of  doing  effective  service,  they  were  found 
transfixed,  as  it  were,  to  the  chocks  on 
which  they  were  kept,  as  though  they  had 
been  riveted  to  them  with  the  expectation 
that  they  would  never  be  required.  The 
hose,  designed  for  the  extinguishing  of  fire, 
was  out  of  order,  and  the  panic-stricken 
captain,  instead  of  organizing  his  oificers 
and  crew  for  energetic  action  in  attempt- 
ing to  subdue  the  flames,  or,  if  deemed 
im[)ractical)le,  in  manning  the  boats  for 
the  transfer  of  tlie  women  and  children, 
lost  all  command  of  himself.     On  hearing 


of  the  fire,  he  rushed  up  bareheaded  to  the 
deck,  and  when  he  saw  the  flames  ex- 
claimed, "  We  are  all  lost/''  In  running 
aft  to  the  quarter-deck,  he  had  to  travel 
through  the  fire,  which  already  separated 
the  fore  part  from  the  aft  part  of  the  ship. 
Captain  Heydtmann,  therefore,  in  break- 
ing the  flames,  was  much  injured  ;  he  was 
seen  later,  by  the  first  officer,  standing  on 
the  quarter-deck,  apparently  stunned  by 
the  injur}'  he  had  received.  He  was  seen 
again,  trying  to  get  out  a  boat,  but  which, 
when  let  down,  was  swamj^ed,  and  he,  fall- 
ing into  the  sea — though  some  of  the  pas- 
sengers state  that  they  saw  him  jump 
overboard — was  soon  left  far  behind. 

Such  was  the  terrible  confusion  now 
prevailing,  that  children  were  trodden 
under  foot  by  the  elder,  distracted  passen- 
gers;  some  persons  ran  up  aloft  into  the 
rigging,  as  though  they  would  be  saved  in 
that  way;  others,  again,  began  to  doff 
their  heavy  clothing,  and  others  to  prepare 
themselves  for  the  final  resort  of  jumping 
overboard,  and  running  the  risk  of  being 
picked  up.  There  existed  a  regular  boat- 
roll  on  the  vessel,  so  that  each  man  knew 
to  which  boat  to  attend,  in  case  of  need, 
under  the  command  of  an  officer,  or  sub- 
officer.  But  the  men  were  hindered  in 
getting  to  the  boats  by  the  frantic  passen- 
gers, who  already  had  rushed  to  them. 
The  boats  on  the  starboard  soon  caught 
fire,  this  side  being  most  exposed  to  the 
flames.  On  the  larboard,  four  boats  were 
lowered,  but  three  of  them  were  smashed 
before  reaching  the  water,  by  the  people 
overcrowding  them,  and  one  boat  alone  got 
safely  afloat. 

The  single  boat  which  thus  reached  the 
water  without  being  smashed,  was  one  of 
the  large  metallic  life-boats  ;  it  was  at  first, 
when  lowered  down,  filled  with  peojile.  hut 
the  weight  was  so  great  that  many  of 
them  fell  out  when  the  boat  reached  the 
water.  Thirty  succeeded  in  keeping  on, 
but  the  boat  capsized  several  times,  being 
full  of  water,  and  seven  men  were  drowned 
thereby.  There  then  remained  in  the 
boat  the  first  officer  and  six  of  the  crew, 
besides  one  steward  and  fifteen  passengers. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


675 


BURXIXG  OF  THE  STEAMSHIP  AUSTRIA, 

It  was  three  o'clock  when  this  boat  got 
free  of  the  steamex',  but,  as  the  boat  was 
difficult  of  management,  and  the  vessel 
was  still  going  ahead,  the  two  became  soon 
separated.  They  tried  hard  to  bail  the 
water  out  of  the  boat,  but  did  not  succeed 
until  a  raft  Avas  constructed  of  the  oars  and 
masts  belonging  to  the  boat,  upon  which 
the  passengers  were  placed,  and  then,  the 
boat  being  cleared  of  water,  they  were  put 
on  board  again.  About  one  hour  after 
having  left  the  steamer,  they  got  sight  of 
the  French  bark  Maurice,  and  on  reaching 


WITH  FIVE  HUNDRED  SOULS  ON  BOARD. 


her,  found  the  third  officer  and  some  of  the 
passengers  already  on  board. 

As  the  flames  increased,  the  poor,  ter- 
ror-stricken creatures  on  the  bowsprit 
jumped  into  the  water  as  their  clothes 
caught  on  fire.  One  xvoman,  iv'ith  two 
daitglitcrs,  Icissecl  them  both,  and  then, 
putting  her  arms  around  them,  all  three 
jumped  into  the  tvater. 

An  English  lad}',  who  came  on  board  at 
Southampton,  had  three  children  with  her 
— a  girl  about  five  years  old,  a  boy  about 
three,  and  a  babe  in  her  arms.     The  hus- 


676 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


band  had  jumped  over,  and  as  the  flames 
grew  hotter  and  burned  more  fiercely,  she 
took  lier  little  girl,  kissed  her,  and  threw 
her  into  the  water.  She  then  took  the  boy, 
a  fair,  healthy  little  fellow,  embraced  him, 
gave  him  her  last  kiss,  and  threw  him  in ; 
he  struck  on  his  back  and  struggled  very 
hard,  rising  to  the  surface  three  separate 
times,  calling  out  "  Mamma,"  each  time, 
in  the  most  piteous  tones,  then  sunk  to 
rise  no  more.  The  poor  woman  then 
clasped  her  baby  to  her  breast  and  jumped 
in  with  it,  kissing  it  repeatedly  as  they 
sank  to  the  bottom. 

A  young  man  who  was  in  tlie  second 
cabin,  and  who  was  going  to  California  to 
join  his  brother,  had  his  sister  with  him,  a 
girl  sixteen  or  seventeen  j'ears  of  ago. 
In  order  to  save  her  from  the  fire,  he 
fastened  a  rope  around  her  body,  and, 
making  one  end  fast  to  the  deck,  let  her 
down  over  the  side  of  the  vessel.  He  then 
put  another  rope  around  his  own  body,  and 
let  himself  down ;  but  the  rope  was  not 
well  fastened,  and,  as  he  jumped  down,  it 
slipped  from  under  his  arms  and  caught 
him  around  the  throat.  As  he  struck  the 
water,  the  waves  dashed  him  against  the 
vessel's  side,  and,  falling  back  again,  he 
was  quickly  choked  to  death — his  sister 
meanwhile  shrieking,  "//t'//>.'  help!  will 
nohodij  help  my  hrotlier?^^  When  last 
seen,  the  poor  girl  was  hanging  there, 
screaming  and  crying,  with  the  waves 
dashing  the  dead  body  of  her  brother 
against  her,  every  moment. 

Similar  in  sadness  was  the  case  of  an 
Englishman  about  fifty  years  of  age,  who, 
with  his  wife,  crawled  out  on  the  bowsprit 
as  far  as  they  could,  and,  as  the  flames 
approached,  they  clasped  their  arms  around 
each  other,  gave  one  last  kiss,  jumped  into 
the  water,  and  sank  immediately.  And 
so,  brothers  and  sisters,  fathers  and  sons, 
mothers  and  daughters,  husbands  and 
wives,  lovingly  embraced  each  other,  and 
plunged  into  the  waves. 

Indescribably  heart-rending  was  the 
scene  on  the  quarter-deck.  Passengers 
were  rushing  frantically  to  and  fro — hus- 
bands seeking  their  wives,  wives  in  search 


of  their  husbands,  relatives  lookinir  after 
relatives,  parents  lamenting  the  loss  of 
their  children,  some  wholly  paralyzed  by 
fear,  others  madly  crying  to  be  saved,  but 
a  few  perfectly  calm  and  collected.  The 
flames  pressed  so  closely  u2:)on  them,  that 
here,  as  at  the  bowsprit,  multitudes  leaped 
over,  and  met  a  watery  grave,  the  same 
scenes  being  exhibited,  of  relatives  clasped 
in  mutual  embrace,  plunging  together  into 
the  abyss  of  death.  Two  beautiful  girls, 
supposed  to  be  sisters,  jumped  over,  and 
sank  kissing  each  other.  A  missionary 
and  wife  leaped  into  the  sea  together,  and 
the  stewardess  and  assistant  steward,  arm 
in  arm,  followed.  So,  too,  lovers  in  tender 
embrace,  met  the  awful  fate  before  them. 

One  Ilunrjarian  gentleman,  icith  seven 
fine  cldldrcn,  foiir  of  tliem  (/i)'h,  made  his 
wife  jump  in,  then  hlessed  his  six  eldest 
cltildren,  made  them  jump  in  one  after 
another,  and  folloiucd  them  with  an  infant 
in  his  arms. 

Thus,  in  twos  and  threes,  or  singly,  the 
whole  company  met  their  fate.  Several 
hesitated  to  leap  from  the  burning  ship 
until  the  last  moment,  as  the  height  was 
twenty-two  feet,  and  were  only,  at  length, 
compelled  to  throw  themselves  off  to  avoid 
a  more  frightful  death.  In  half  an  hour, 
not  a  soul  was  to  be  seen  on  the  poop. 

Such  was  the  fearful  progress  of  the  fire, 
that,  almost  from  the  very  first,  the  flames 
leaped  up  the  shrouds,  and  licked  along 
the  3ards,  until  the  sails  were  in  a  furious 
blaze,  so  that  buniing  fragments  of  them 
were  continually  falling  on  the  persons  of 
those  below,  and  setting  the  dresses  of  the 
ladies  on  fire.  One  garment  after  another 
was  in  this  way  destroyed,  and  the  loss 
of  each  article  of  clothing  only  exposed 
the  person  more  and  more  to  tlie  intense 
heat.  When  they  could  no  longer  bear 
up  under  this  torture,  they  sought  relief 
in  the  yawning  ocean.  Some,  however, 
endured  every  possible  suffering,  before 
taking  this  great  and  final  step,  a  few  of 
the  ladies,  indeed,  being  almost  disrobed 
before  leaping,  as  at  last  they  were  com- 
pelled to,  into  the  jaws  of  death.  The 
men,  too,  withstood  the  scorching  of  their 


GREAT  AND  ME]\IORABLE  EVENTS. 


677 


bodies  until  tlicy  were  forced  by  its  terror 
into  the  briny  deep,  where  they  were  gen- 
erally engulfed  at  once.  The  women  who 
had  an}'  garments  left,  would  be  buoyed 
up  for  a  moment  by  them  ;  but  in  a  few 
minutes  they  disappeared  as  suddenly  as 
if  some  unseen  power  below  had  caught 
them  and  dragged  them  under. 

But  the  fate  of  the  firemen  would  ap- 
pear to  have  been  even  more  dreadful. 
Some  of  the  passengers  who,  after  jump- 
ing overboard,  were  so  fortunate  as  to  save 
themselves  by  swimming  and  floating  on 
I^ieces  of  timber,  stated  that  when  they 
were  in  the  water,  tJiey  saw  agonizing 
human  faces  2')rofruding  from  the  lower 
tier  of  port-holes,  close  to  the  water,  as 
though  they  were  trying  to  force  their 
way  out,  while  the  bright  flames  were 
shining  behind  them.  These  were  sup- 
posed to  be  the  firemen  and  engineers, 
surrounded  by  a  living  wall  of  fire.  When 
the  Austria  left  Southampton,  she  drew 
only  sixteen  feet  of  water,  and  at  the  time 
of  this  catastrophe  probably  a  foot  or  so 
less,  so  that  she  was  about  twenty  feet  out 
of  water.  Hearing  a  loud  cry  of  anguish, 
one  of  the  passengers  looked  over  the 
steamer's  side,  and  there  discovered  a 
man's  head  projecting  from  a  port-hole, 
the  poor  fellow  seemingly  making  efforts 
to  force  his  way  through  the  narrow  aper- 
ture, but  on  either  side  of  his  head  a  vol- 
ume of  flame  was  streaming  forth,  thus 
giving  the  appearance  that  his  body  was 
wrapped  in  flames. 

The  account  given  of  the  struggle  and 
fate  of  Mr.  Rosen,  as  related  by  his  son, 
is  full  of  mournful  interest,  exhibiting,  as 
it  does,  the  warmth  of  parental  instincts, 
and  the  somewhat  questionable  filial  duti- 
fulness  and  affection  of  the  son.  The  latter 
saj-s  :  My  father  and  I  ran  forward  to  es- 
cape the  fire,  and  were  followed  by  the  other 
passengers.  I  saw  the  fire  pouring  out 
through  the  skylights.  In  ten  or  fifteen 
minutes  more,the  cry  ran  fore  and  aft,  "  To 
the  boats  ! "  All  hands  then  crowded  into 
the  boats, which  had  been  hanging  in-board, 
but  were  now  swung  out  by  the  davits.  The 
first  mate  mounted  the  rail  near  the  forward 


boat  on  the  port  side,  in  which  we  were 
sitting  with  a  large  crowd  of  other  passen- 
gers. He  ordered  all  of  us  to  get  out  of 
the  boat,  so  that  it  could  be  lowered.  But 
as  fast  as  one  set  got  out,  others  rushed 
into  their  places,  and  we  also  went  back  to 
our  first  seat.  The  first  mate  then  took  a 
sailor's  knife  and  cut  the  tackle,  and  the 
boat  fell  into  the  water.  Falling  from 
such  a  height,  the  boat  filled  and  sunk, 
and  all  the  people  were  washed  out.  I 
came  up  under  the  boat,  but  I  found  my 
way  out,  and  clambered  into  the  boat. 
There  were  five  or  six  oars  lashed  together, 
and  they  floated  out.  My  father  came  up 
within  reach  of  these,  and  seized  hold  of 
them  with  five  or  six  others.  He  saw  me 
in  the  boat,  and  called  out  to  me,  '*  Oh, 
my  hoy,  we  are  all  lost !  "  In  a  short  time, 
one  end  of  the  oar  drifted  near  the  boat, 
and  I  caught  hold  of  it  to  haul  him  in.  I 
also  asked  a  passenger  near  to  assist  me 
in  saving  my  father.  We  pulled  together, 
but  there  were  so  many  clinging  to  the 
oars,  we  could  not  move  them.  The  gen- 
tlemen said,  "It  is  no  use;  we  cannot 
move  them."  I  then  said  to  my  father, 
"Hold  on,  and  do  the  best  you  can  ;  it  is 
impossible  to  move  them."  He  then 
drifted  along  near  us,  still  clinging  to  the 
oars.  In  this  way  he  held  on  for  nearly 
four  hours.  I  could  not  bear  to  look  at 
him,  and  we  drifted  in  silence.  There 
was  nothing  in  the  boat  to  throw  to  him. 
During  this  time  the  boat  rolled  over  sev- 
eral times,  and  many  were  drowned  each 
time.  I  was  so  exhausted  I  could  not  get 
into  the  boat.  I  asked  one  of  the  passen- 
gers to  assist  me,  and  he  kindly  drew  me 
into  the  boat.  We  drifted  between  two 
and  three  miles  astern  of  the  steamer,  and 
could  only  see  the  flames  rising  above  the 
deck.  There  was  no  conversation,  except 
an  occasional  request  by  the  first  mate 
that  the  passengers  would  sit  still,  so  as 
not  to  capsize  the  boat.  My  father  by 
this  time  had  drifted  so  near  the  boat  that 
he  caught  hold  of  the  stern.  I  was  at  the 
bow  and  could  not  reach  him.  Mr.  John 
F.  Cox  said,  "Charley,  your  father  has 
hold  of  the  stern  of  the  boat,  and  can  get 


678 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


in."  I  said,  "Oh,  I  am  so  glad  that  he  is 
safe."  But  he  was  so  exhausted  tliat  he 
held  on  only  about  five  minutes,  and  then 
sunk.  Just  before  he  let  go,  he  said  to 
Mr.  Cox,  "7/"  mij  hoy  is  safe,  I  am  sat- 
isfied." 

Some  interesting  details  of  the  awful 
catastrophe,  not  given  in  the  preceding 
account,  are  contained  in  the  narrative  by 
Professor  Glaubensklee,  of  the  New  York 
Free  Academy.  Mr.  Glaubensklee  states 
that  he  was  in  his  state-room  when  the 
cry  of  "fire"  arose.  He  hurriedly  thrust 
his  feet  into  his  boots  and  ran  out  of  his 
state-room  to  go  on  deck,  when  he  saw 
ascending,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  funnel, 
bright  flames.  Going  on  deck,  he  saw  the 
passengers  crowding  toward  the  boats,  and 
went  to  remonstrate  with  them,  as  many 


on  the  port  side;  he  was  endeavoring  to 
get  out  the  people  who  had  crowded  into 
the  boat,  in  order  to  lower  it.  Immedi- 
ately after,  the  professor  saw  the  first 
engineer  rush  up  on  deck,  bareheaded,  to 
see  what  was  the  matter.  He  was  heard 
to  cry  out,  through  the  engine  hatch,  to 
his  assistants,  to  stop  the  engine  and  set 
the  steam-pumps  to  work ;  at  the  same 
time,  he  turned  around  for  the  purpose  of 
going  down  stairs  himself.  Nothing  was 
seen  of  him  subsequent  to  this,  but  the 
professor  thought  he  did  not  succeed  in 
getting  down  on  account  of  the  flames. 
Another  passenger  said  that  he  saw  the 
engineer,  with  his  clothes  on  fire,  either 
fall  or  throw  himself  overboard  at  about 
the  same  time. 

The   engine   was   not  stopped,  and  the 


LAST  VIEW  OF  THE   UNFORTUNATE  STEAMER. 


of  them  were  personally  known  to  him. 
He  found,  however,  that  they  were  deaf  to 
the  voice  of  reason,  and  continued  to  crowd 
to  the  boats.  He  at  once  resolved,  that, 
come  what  might,  he  would  not  trust  him- 
self in  any  boat,  as  it  was  evident  that  it 
would  be  more  unsafe  to  do  so  than  to 
remain  by  the  ship.  Turning  around,  for 
the  purpose  of  going  back  to  the  quarter- 
deck, he  found  it  impossible  to  do  so,  the 
deck  being  on  fire  amidships, — the  whole 
vessel  amidships  seeming  to  be  in  a  blaze, 
and  all  communication  between  the  fore 
and  after  parts  of  the  ship  was  cut  off. 

On  first  reaching  the  deck.  Professor 
Glaubensklee  looked  forward  to  see  what 
was  the  matter.  The  captain  was  then 
standing  bareheaded  near  the  second  boat 


pumps  were  not  set  to  work,  owing,  proba- 
bly, to  the  fact,  that  the  engineer  on  duty 
— the  engine-room  being  three  decks  be- 
low—  did  not  hear  the  first  engineer's 
commands,  and  may  have  been  killed  or 
smothered  previously,  as  the  fire  was 
raging  over  their  heads. 

Finding  it  impossible  to  return  to 
the  quarter-deck,  Professor  Glaubensklee 
turned  toward  the  forecastle,  when  he  was 
called  upon  by  a  sailor  to  assist  in  cutting 
down  the  jibs.  In  compliance,  he  climbed 
up  a  rope  and  cut  away  its  fastenings. 
The  jib  was  cut  down  for  the  double  jmr- 
pose  of  preventing  them  from  catching 
fire,  and  also  in  order  that  they  might  be 
saturated  with  water  and  used  to  check 
the  progress  of  the  fire  in  the  forward  jiart 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


679 


of  the  ship.  The  peoi)le  on  deck,  however, 
did  not  understand  the  orders,  and  threw 
the  sail  overboard  witliout  first  making  it 
fast  to  a  rope,  and  so  it  was  lost.  There- 
upon, the  professor  went  in  search  of  some- 
thing out  of  which  to  construct  a  raft. 
The  mate,  several  of  the  crew,  and  espe- 
cially the  master's  mate,  did  the  same. 
But  they  could  find  no  wood  left,  and  the 
forward  part  of  the  ship  was  of  iron.  The 
spare  spars  and  hatchway  doors  and 
covers  had  already  been  thrown  over- 
board, to  sustain  other  persons.  The  pro- 
fessor then  inquired  of  the  master's  mate 
if  there  were  no  pumps  forward,  which 
could  be  set  to  work ;  but  he  replied  that 
there  were  none. 

As  a  last  resort.  Professor  Glaubensklee 
stepped  over  the  starboard  bulwarks  upon 
the  plank  sheer — a  ledge  some  eighteen 
inches  wide — and  looked  out  for  the  two 
vessels  which  had  been  discerned  in  the 
distance.  Tlie  one  which  was  closest 
seemed  to  approach  very  rapidly.  At  this 
time,  the  steamer  was  still  moving  on  in 
its  course,  westward,  towards  her.  The 
other  vessel  did  not  approach,  and  Profes- 
601  Glaubensklee's  opinion  was  that  her 
peojile  did  not  see  the  steamer,  as,  when 
he  saw  her,  only  the  top  of  her  masts  could 
be  seen  above  the  horizon.  But  Captain 
Renaud,  of  the  bark  Maurice,  who  at  that 
time  was  close  enough  to  see  her  mainsails 
and  even  her  hull  itself,  subsequently  said 
that  he  had  signaled  her  but  without  suc- 
cess, as  she  did  not  answer  the  signal,  but 
kept  on  her  way.  Renaud  was  furious  at 
their  apparent  inhumanity,  more  especially 
as  he  thought  it  might  have  been  a  French 
vessel. 

About  three-quarters  of  an  liour  after 
the  fire  broke  out,  the  foremast  and  shortly 
after  the  mainmast  fell  over  the  starboard 
side.  The  mizzenmast  stood  for  some 
time,  perhaps  half  an  hour  later,  and, 
about  the  time  the  mainmast  fell,  it  was 
thought  that  the  boiler  exploded,  as  an 
immense  quantity  of  steam  was  seen  to 
rush  up  in  the  vicinity  of  the  funnel. 
The  ship,  which  had  till  now  been  heading 
west  by  south,  commenced  heading  around 


to  the  north,  the  engine  having  finally 
stopped,  and  the  smoke  which  had  hereto- 
fore gone  aft,  came  over  the  starboard  side. 
About  ten  minutes  later,  the  powder  mag- 
azine exploded.  To  those  on  board,  the 
explosion  did  not  seem  very  severe ;  the 
whole  quantity  of  gunpowder  in  tlie  maga- 
zine was  within  one  hundred  pounds. 

As  soon  as  the  vessel  had  commenced 
falling  off  before  the  wind,  the  position  of 
those  on  the  forecastle  became  dangerous. 
All  those  forward  had  been  previously 
secure,  as  the  heat  and  flames  were  driven 
to  the  stern.  But  when  the  ship  ceased  to 
head  to  windward,  the  flames  and  smoke 
went  forward,  and  those  who  had  taken  ref- 
uge on  the  forecastle  were  compelled  to  go 
over  the  bows,  and  take  refuge  in  the  bow- 
sprit, and  in  the  forechains.  On  one  of  these 
chains.  Professor  Glaubensklee  crept  out 
as  far  as  possible,  followed  by  a  crowd  of 
other  persons,  and  held  on  by  the  double- 
headed  eagle  which  formed  the  ship's 
figure-head.  The  bowsprit,  martingales, 
and  every  part  of  the  fore-rigging  below 
the  bulwarks,  Avere  then  filled  with  peojile, 
whose  naturally  dangerous  position  be- 
came every  minute  more  perilous,  as  the 
smoke  and  fiery  fragments  blew  over  them. 
The  clothes  of  these  people  were  constantly 
igniting  from  the  fiery  flakes,  and  it  re- 
quired all  their  adroitness  to  prevent  them 
from  blazing  up  and  consuming  them. 
Fortunateh',  the  forward  part  of  the  vessel 
was  almost  entirely  of  iron,  or  they  would 
inevitably  have  been  driven  from  this  their 
only  refuge  into  the  sea. 

Knowing  that  he  might  at  any  moment 
find  it  necessary  to  jump  into  the  water, 
Professor  Glaubensklee  divested  himself 
of  his  boots,  shirt,  and  everything  else 
that  might  impede  him  in  swimming, 
keeping  nothing  on  but  his  trousers,  which 
he  cut  off  some  distance  above  the  knees. 
Thus  they  remained  several  hours,  watch- 
ing the  coming  ship,  all  the  time  specta- 
tors of  suffering  and  death  in  every  form. 
Some  got  shockingly  burned,  and  others, 
becoming  exhausted,  dropped  off  one  by 
one  into  the  sea,  and  sank  to  rise  no  more. 

The  approach  of  the  vessel — the   Man- 


680 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


rice — now  became  very  slow,  as  the  engine 
of  the  steamship  ceased  to  move,  and,  as 
the  liglit  wind  liad  died  away,  the  burning 
vessel  lay  becalmed  and  motionless.  Nu- 
merous ropes  had  been  fastened  to  the 
railing,  the  bowsprit,  the  chains  and  other 
parts  of  the  vessel ;  and  the  people  were 
clinging  to  these,  preparatory  to  lowering 
themselves  to  the  water,  as  soon  as  succor 
should  arrive.  As  the  wind  died  away, 
and  the  French  bark  remained  motionless, 
the  hope  which  had  heretofore  animated  the 
survivors,  died  away  with  it.  The  other 
vessel  had  disappeared.  Another  sail  soon 
showed  itself  above  the  horizon,  probably 
the  Norwegian  bark  which  was  seen  cruis- 
ing around  the  wreck  the  next  morning. 

When  the  bark  Maurice  had  got  within 
three-quarters  of  a  mile  of  the  steamer,  it 
fell  calm,  and  Captain  Renaud  brought  his 
vessel  to  and  lowered  his  boats.  When 
the  first  boat  from  the  bark  reached  the 
wreck,  the  poor  creatures  shouted,  laughed 
hysterically,  and  shed  tears  of  joy,  for 
their  deliverance.  Professor  Glaubens- 
klee,  as  the  boat  neared  him,  sprang  into 
the  water  and  swam  toward  her.  He  suc- 
ceeded in  reaching  her,  and  proved  to  be 
the  first  person  taken  from  the  Avater. 
Four  or  five  persons  more  were  picked  up, 
and  then  they  hurried  back  with  their 
precious  freight.  About  midway  between 
the  steamship  and  the  vessel,  they  en- 
countered what  they  supposed  was  a  corpse 
floating  in  the  water,  face  uppermost.  The 
mate  of  the  Maurice  insisted  on  picking  it 
up,  when  it  proved  to  be  the  body  of  The- 
odore Eisfeld,  who  was  restored  to  life  some 
time  after  being  put  on  board  the  vessel. 

On  reaching  the  Maurice,  the  rescued 
people  were  kindly  received  by  Captain 
Renaud  aiul  his  men,  who  set  about  pro- 
viding them  witli  clothes,  and  binding  up 
their  wounds.  Two  boats  were  kept  plying 
between  the  Maurice  and  the  steamer, 
until  nightfall.  At  that  time,  probably 
from  ten  to  twenty  persons  were  clinging 
to  the  bowsprit  of  the  steamer  and  the 
ropes  suspended  from  it.  Captain  Renaud 
was  afraid  to  risk  tlie  lives  of  his  men  in 
an  open  boat,  after  dark,  so  the  good  work 


was  suspended.  Soon  after  sunset,  one  of 
the  life-boats  of  the  steamer,  containing 
the  first  officer  and  about  twelve  others, 
was  taken  on  board. 

Most  of  the  rescued  ones  were  nearly 
naked;  some  of  them  quite  so.  Captain 
Renaud  and  his  men  had  distributed  all 
the  clothing  they  had  to  them,  reserving 
to  their  own  use  only  that  which  they  had 
on.  The  people  saved  in  the  life-boat  were 
wet  and  chilled  through  ;  these  were  also 
furnished  with  suitable  clothing. 

Captain  Renaud  concluded  to  remain  all 
night  near  the  steamer,  and  renew  the 
search  in  the  morning.  During  the  night, 
tents  of  old  sails  and  spars  were  made  on 
deck,  under  which  the  rescued  slept.  The 
captain  devoted  himself  to  the  wants  of  the 
suffering. 

Early  the  next  morning,  a  breeze  sprang 
up  from  the  north,  when  the  INIaurice's 
sails  were  set,  and  she  was  headed  once 
more  for  the  burning  steamer.  At  day- 
break, they  saw  a  Norwegian  bark  near 
the  Austria,  and  one  of  her  boats  passing 
around  the  steamer.  The  Maurice  did 
not  pass  the  bark  within  hailing  distance, 
but  they  hailed  the  boat,  without,  how- 
ever, receiving  an  answer,  as  she  had  no 
speaking  trumpet.  As  it  was  apparent, 
even  to  the  naked  ej'e,  that  there  were  no 
more  persons  on  the  wreck  nor  floating 
ai'ound  it,  and,  if  there  had  been,  that  the 
Norwegian's  boat  must  have  picked  tliem 
up,  Captain  Renaud  availed  himself  of  tlie 
favorable  breeze  and  proceeded  on  his 
course.  He  was  bound  from  Newfound- 
land to  the  Mauritius,  and  had  about  four 
months'  provisions  on  board  for  a  crew  of 
ten  or  twelve  persons.  But  as  these  would 
not  last  very  long  for  the  large  number 
added  to  the  vessel's  company,  he  con- 
cluded to  bear  up  for  Fayal.  Subsequently, 
they  fell  in  with  the  bark  Lotus,  which 
took  off  twelve,  carried  them  to  Halifax, 
whence  the  captain  of  the  Prince  Albert 
tendered  them  passage  to  New  York. 
Thus,  of  the  five  hundred  and  thirty-eight 
persons  on  board  the  splendid  but  ill-fated 
Austria,  the  lives  of  only  sixty-seven  were 
saved  from  the  ravages  of  fire  and  flood. 


LXXIX. 

BLOODY  AND  REVOLTING  PRIZE-FIGHT  BETWEEN  JOHN 
MORRISSEY  AND  JOHN  C.  HEENAN.— 1858. 


Stakes,  Two  Thousand  Five  Hundred  Dollars  a  Side. — Wonderful  Muscular  Appearance  of  the  Com- 
batants.— Eleven  Terrific  Rounds  in  Twenty-two  Minutes. — Morrissey  Declared  Victor,  and  Hailed  as 
the  "  Champion  of  America." — Gala  Day  for  RuflBans  and  Blacklegs. — A  Disgrace  to  Civilization. — 
Growth  of  American  Pugilism  — Result  of  Emigration  — Branded  as  Felony  in  the  United  States. — 
Remarkahie  Career  of  Morrissey  — Convictions  for  Various  Crimes. — Serves  in  the  Penitentiary. — 
Fights  with  Yankee  Sullivan. — Morrissey  Wins — His  Great  Match  with  Heenan. — Public  Atten- 
tion Engrossed  by  it. — Spot  Chosen  for  the  "  Sport  " — Laws  and  Magistrates  Sliunned. — The  Con- 
testants Shake  Hands — Their  Tremendous  Prowess. — Blood,  Brutality,  and  Mutilation. — Heenan 
Staggers  in  the  Eleventh  Round. — Fails  at  the  Call  of  "  Time." — The  Sponge  of  Defeat  Thrown 
Up — Morrissey  at  the  "Post  of  Honor" — He  Sets  Up  a  Drinking  Saloon. — Enters  Political  Life. — 
Elected  to  Congress, — Truth  Stranger  Than  Fiction. 


"  Tho'  swelled,  to  bursting,  every  vein, 
No  token  gave  he  yet  of  pain." 


ACCOMPAM.MEXTS  OF  THE  PRIZE  RING. 


"^■^//^^C,  ^..  ^     TNTIL  within  a  comparatively  recent  period,  prize- 

fighting has  not  been  known  in  the  United  States 
as  a  popular  "  entertainment,"  nor  as  a  profession 
conducted  on  regular  principles  or  rules  of  so-called 
muscular  science.  It  however  commenced  several 
years  prior  to  the  date  fixed  by  this  narration,  and 
the  names  of  Hyer,  Beasle^^,  Kensett,  Fuller,  Ham- 
mond, Secor,  Bell,  Sandford,  McLane,  McCleester, 
McCluskey,  Lilly,  McCoy,  and  some  others,  have 
early  notoriety  in  the  annals  of  this  brutal  and 
demoralizing  "sport," — a  phase  in  the  development  of  American  society  and  habits, 
which  all  good  citizens  have  reason  to  lament  as  disgraceful  to  civilization,  and,  com- 
pared with  which,  even  a  Spanish  bull-bait  is  respectable.  And  yet  the  event  here 
narrated  was  one  which,  for  the  time,  almost  exclusively  engrossed  public  attention. 

Gradually,  the  taste  for  such  exhibitions  increased  in  the  United  States, — principally 
the  result  of  emigration  from  England  and  Ireland, — until  professed  pugilists  were  to 
be  found,  in  considerable  numbers,  in  almost  all  the  large  cities,  and  the  "  ring"  became 
an  established  American  institution,  chiefly  among  the  reckless  classes.  Nor  have  the 
stringent  statutes,  enacted  by  most  of  the  states,  against  these  inhuman  and  criminal 
spectacles,  by  which  both  the  participants  and  witnesses  are  made  legal  offenders,  been 
able  to  prevent  their  frequent  repetition. 

More  from  the  fact  that  the  parties  to  the  prize-fights  here  recorded  became  so  noted 


682 


OUK  FIRST  CENTUEY.— 1776-1876. 


in  their  subsequent  career,  than  from  any 
extraordinary  peculiarity  characterizing 
these  exhibitors  above  others  of  their  class, 
has  this  of  1858  been  selected,  in  especial, 
as  a  specimen  or  type  of  that  barbarous 
diversion,  now,  unhappily,  so  common,  but 
against  which  the  moral  sense  of  the  com- 
munity has,  from  the  first,  been  most  firmly 
set.  The  account  of  the  fight  in  1853  will 
very  appropriately  precede  here  the  more 
notable  one  of  1858,  as  showing,  more  fully, 
the  personal  and  professional  character- 
istics of  that  combatant  who  was  thoiigltt 
worthy  to  be  transferred  from  the  prize- 
ring  to  the  halls  of  congress  ! 

Surely,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  facts 
in  American  life,  character,  and  events, 
is  presented  in  the  career  of  John  Morris- 
sey,  who,  though  known  only  as  a  professed 
pugilist  from  Ireland,  and  who,  according 
to  the  official  record,  had,  in  the  course 
of  his  adventurous  life,  been  eight  times 
indicted  for  assault  with  intent  to  kill, 
assault  and  battery,  and  burglary,  and  had 
served  nine  months  in  the  penitentiary  for 
breaches  of  the  public  peace, — was  after- 
wards elected,  for  successive  terms,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  House  of  Representatives  of  the 
United  States,  his  constituents  comprising 
the  "  Bloody  Sixth  "  ward,  in  the  city  of 
New  York,  including  the  famous  "  Five 
Points "  locality.  Sullivan,  nicknamed 
"Yankee,"  but  who,  like  Morrissey,  had 
come  over  from  Ireland,  ended  his  career 
in  California,  by  suicide,  while  in  the  hands 
of  the  Vigilance  Committee,  by  whom  he 
momentarily  expected  to  be  hung  for  his 
various  crimes.  Heenan  had  earned  for 
himself  the  highest  pugilistic  renown  on 
both  sides  of  the  Atlantic,  being  considered 
a  foeman  whose  prowess  it  was  an  honor 
to  test. 

The  twelfth  of  October,  1853,  was  the 
time  fixed  upon  for  the  match  between 
Morrissey  and  Sullivan,  the  stake  being 
one  thousand  dollars  a  side;  the  battle- 
ground selected  was  a  place  called  Boston 
Four  Corners,  about  a  hundred  miles  north- 
east from  the  city  of  New  York,  near  the 
line  between  Massachusetts  and  New 
York,  but    the  ownership  of   which   spot 


was  claimed  by  neither  state.  It  formerly 
was  part  of  Massachusetts,  and  ceded  by 
the  latter  to  New  York,  but  the  cession 
was  never  ratified.  From  the  time  the 
match  was  made,  until  the  day  of  the  fight, 
the  combatants  passed  through  the  usual 
process  of  training. 

Crowds  left  the  city  on  the  day  appointed, 
for  the  place  designated,  and  the  numbers 
arriving  from  Albany  and  the  adjacent 
country,  with  these  from  New  York,  swelled 
the  number  of  sjiectators  to  some  thousands. 
The  usual  scenes  of  dissipation,  tumult 
and  quarreling,  were  not  wanting  on  this 
occasion  ;  but,  aside  from  the  exhibition 
itself,  and  its  accompaniments,  the  spot 
was  picturesque  in  the  extreme,  and  all  the 
trees  and  hillocks  in  the  vicinity  were 
loaded  with  human  beings.  In  the  lan- 
guage of  the  "ring,"  descriptive  of  the 
exhibition,  and  which  is  here  emploj'ed  in 
order  that  the  affair  may  appear  in  the 
same  light  as  presented  by  those  profes- 
sionally concerned,  the  principals  showed 
at  the  time  appointed,  both  looking  in  tip- 
top trim,  but  Sullivan  seemed  old  enough 
to  be  Morrissey's  father.  Morrissey  was 
about  twenty-two  years  of  age.  Sullivan 
was  fort^'-one,  and  he  was  thirty  pounds 
lighter,  and  three  inches  shorter  than  his 
youthful  opponent,  who  stepped  into  the 
ring  first,  amidst  much  enthusiasm  from 
his  friends  and  escorted  by  Tom  O'Donnell 
and  "  Awful  "  Gardner,  and  set  his  colors 
with  a  long  scarf  representing  the  stars 
and  strij^es.  Sullivan  soon  after  made  his 
appearance,  smiling  as  he  stepped  forward, 
and  was  also  received  with  acclamation  by 
his  friends.  Sullivan  was  escorted  by 
Billy  Wilson  and  another  friend,  who 
mounted  Sullivan's  colors  with  a  very 
piratical  and  death-dealing  signal,  com- 
posed of  a  black  silk  cravat  and  still  more 
suspicious  looking  cords.  A  few  minutes 
before  two  o'clock,  the  two  men  shook 
hands  and  toed  the  scratch,  each  with  an 
elegant  attitude,  time  was  called,  and  the 
combatants  fought. 

Round  1. — Sullivan  made  a  feint  or  two, 
and  then  planted  a  stinging  hit  on  Morris- 
sey's nose.     Morrissey  struck  out  at  Sulli- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


G83 


van  witli  both  hands,  hut  without  reaching 
liim.  Sullivan  got  in  another  heavy  blow 
with  his  left  hand  on  Morrissey's  left  eye, 
whereupon  INIorrissey  made  a  rush  at  Sul- 
livan, and,  in  getting  away,  Sullivan  fell 
through  the  ropes. 

Round  2. — As  the  men  came  up,  Mor- 
rissey's  nose  was  bleeding,  and  his  left  eye 
somewhat  swollen.  Sullivan's  seconds 
claimed  first  blood.  Morrissey  led  off  with 
his  left,  but  was  stopped  by  Sullivan,  who 
gave  him  another  hard  one  on  the  nose, 
and  got  away,  Morrissey  following  and 
striking  out  resolutely  for  Sullivan.  His 
blows,  however,  were  either  too  short  or 
stopped  by  Sullivan,  who,  in  return,  put  in 
two  or  three  severe  ones  on  the  damaged 
spots  on  Morrissey's  face,  and  then  went 
down.  The  superior  science  of  Sullivan 
was  quite  manifest,  and  his  friends  were 
in  ecstasies. 

Round  3.  —  Morrissey's  face  looking 
badly,  his  left  eye  much  swollen,  and  his 
nose  and  mouth  bleeding  profusely.  He 
opened  the  fighting,  and  both  went  at  it 
pell-mell,  Sullivan  stopping  nearly  all  his 
blows,  and  getting  in  easily  on  IVIorrissey's 
countenance.  Sullivan  received  a  rap  on 
the  left  cheek  in  this  round,  which  altered 
its  appearance  materially.  Sullivan  closed 
the  round  by  hitting  at  Morrissey's  body 
and  going  down. 

Round  4.  —  Morrissey's  eje  had  been 
lanced,  to  stop  the  swelling,  but  it  was  fast 
closing.  Sullivan  went  to  work  at  him 
ra[)idly,  and  got  in  four  left-hand  hits  in 
succession.  Morrissey  then  made  a  tre- 
mendous blow  at  Sullivan,  which  took  him 
on  the  side  of  the  head  and  staggered  him. 
He,  however,  rallied,  and  got  in  two  or 
three  more  on  Morrissey's  face,  and  then 
went  down.  In  this  round,  Sullivan's  left 
hand  appeared  badly  cut  between  the 
knuckles,  and,  from  his  manner  of  keeping 
it  open,  except  when  hitting,  it  was  evi- 
dent that  it  was  badly  hurt. 

Round  5.  —  Morrissey's  face  appeared 
shockingly  mangled,  while  Sullivan's,  al- 
though his  left  cheek  was  much  swollen 
and  his  hand  hurt,  appeared  all  confidence. 
This  round  was  a  sharp  one.     Morrissey 


fought  vigorously  ;  but  Sullivan  outfought 
him  at  every  point,  putting  in  several 
severe  riglit-liunders. 

Round  G. — Morrissey  presented  a  hor- 
rible appearance,  the  blood  streaming  from 
his  noseaiul  mouth  in  profusion.  Sullivan 
led  off,  and  put  in  two  or  three  more  on 
the  sore  spots  when,  in  return,  Morrissey 
caught  him  a  heavy  left-hander  on  the 
neck.  This  elated  iiis  friends,  and  cries  of 
"  Go  on,  JoJtn, — a  few  more  like  that  iri/l 
finisJi  him,''  were  shouted  by  a  number  of 
voices.  The  blow,  although  a  stunner,  did 
not  seem  to  affect  Sullivan  so  much  as  was 
expected,  for  he  was  soon  again  at  work. 


Round  7. — Morrissej^'s  left  eye  entirely 
shut  up.  Sullivan  led  off  at  Morrissey's 
face,  putting  in  one  or  two,  and  closed  the 
round  by  hitting  INforrissey  on  the  ribs  and 
going  down.  Sullivan  was  not  touched  in 
this  round. 

Round  8. — Morrissey  commenced  the 
round  desperately,  striking  at  and  follow- 
ing Sullivan  about  wildly ;  but  the  latter 
managed  to  save  himself,  and  got  down 
without  being  hit. 

Round  9.  —  Sullivan  opened  the  game 
by  planting  a  sharp  hit  on  the  old  wounds 
of  ]\[orrissey,  jumped  back,  put  in  another, 
stopped  Morrissey's  return,  and  got  in  a 
third.  Then  some  counter-hitting  took 
place,  in  which  Sullivan  had  the  best  of  it, 
as  Morrissey  seemed  to  hit  short.  Sulli- 
van down,  as  usual. 

Round  10. — Sullivan's  left  eye  was  now 
closing  fast,  and  Morrissey  managed  in  this 


684 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


round  to  put  in  another  stinger  on  it.  The 
counter-hitting  was  severe  throughout  this 
round,  Sullivan  getting  in  five  for  one  on 
!Morrissey.  Morrissey  presented  a  picture 
at  the  close  of  this  round  truly  revolting. 
Sullivan  closed  the  round  in  his  usual  way 
of  hitting  Morrissey  and  then  falling. 

Round  11 — Sullivan's  seconds  now  cau- 
tioned him  to  keep  out  and  take  it  easy  ; 
that  he  must  surely  win,  if  he  would  only 
he  careful.  Sullivan  went  to  work  at  the 
lace,  but  he  received  a  tremendous  body 
blow  from  Morrissey. 

Round  12. — This  round  was  a  sharp  and 
a  short  one.  Mon-issey  rushed  at  Sullivan, 
and,  after  a  few  counter  hits,  Morrissey 
getting  in  a  couple  on  Sullivan's  damaged 
ogle,  and  Sullivan  four  or  five  hits  on 
Morrissey's  nose,  Sullivan  fell. 

Round  13. — This  was  also  of  very  short 
duration.  Sullivan  hit  Morrissey  in  the 
face,  and,  in  making  a  swinging  hit  with 
his  right  hand,  fell  at  Morrissey's  feet. 

Round  14. — Sullivan  planted  two  sting- 
ing hits  on  the  nose  of  his  adversary,  and 
received  a  return  on  his  much  disfigured 
cheek.     He  went  down  as  before. 

At  the  fifteenth  round,  Morrissey's 
friends  began  to  look  for  a  long  fight,  and 
therefore  told  him  to  change  tactics  and 
force  the  fighting,  which  he  did.  In  the 
seventeentli,  Sullivan's  friends,  seeing  how 
things  were  working,  advised  him  to 
abstain  from  "rushing  things,"  and  hence 
ensued  an  exchange  of  blows  so  severe  and 
scientific,  as  to  cause  loud  continued  cheer- 
ing for  both  men,  until,  at  last,  Sullivan 
contrived  his  usual  slip  down. 

The  general  style  of  the  first  fourteen 
rounds  was  then  resumed  and  continued 
until  the  end  of  the  thirty-second,  during 
all  of  which  Morrissey's  appearance,  from 
such  continual  punishment  on  the  face, 
made  him  appear  worse  than  he  really  was, 
for  he  was  yet  firm  and  very  active.  Sul- 
livan looked  upon  him  as  likely  to  give  in 
soon,  and  tried  hard  but  unavailingly  to 
finish  him  off.  At  the  thirty-third  round, 
however,  jNIorrissey  got  cranky  in  the 
knees ;  and  in  the  thirty-fourth,  Sullivan 
gave    him  at  least  a  dozen  blows  in  the 


face,  and  at  last  fell  from  his  own  exer- 
tions. At  the  thirty-sixth,  Morrissej'  yet 
seemed  to  sink,  and  Sullivan  got  more 
efficient.  On  the  call  for  the  thirty- 
seventh,  Morrissey's  wonderful  powers  of 
endurance  seemed  to  take  a  new  lease. 
Sullivan  got  in,  as  usual,  on  the  sore  cheek. 
Morrissey  then  dashed  after  him,  rushed 
him  to  the  ropes,  and  lifted  him  entirely 
clear  of  the  ground,  Sullivan  keeping  his 
feet  drawn  up  meanwhile.  The  seconds 
of  both  parties  now  rushed  to  their  men, 
and  high  words  and  promiscuous  fighting 
ensued.  During  the  confusion,  ^^  Tune!'' 
was  called.  The  usual  eight  seconds  addi- 
tional were  allowed,  and  then  two  or  three 
full  minutes  besides.  Morrissey  now,  hav- 
ing never  left  his  post  of  duty,  was  hailed 
as  the  winner,  the  referee  pronouncing  a 
decision  in  his  favor. 

But  by  far  the  most  noted  of  these 
pugilistic  encounters  was  that  between 
Morrissey  and  Heenan,  the  latter  known 
as  the  Benicia  boy  and  "champion  of  the 
world  !  "  This  occurred  October  20,  "l8o8, 
at  Long  Point  Island,  about  seventy-five 
miles  from  Buffalo,  N.  Y. ;  the  stakes  being 
$2,500  a  side.  There  were  eleven  terrific 
rounds,  occupying  twent3'-two  minutes, 
when  Morrissey  was  declared  victor.  Mul- 
titudes went  from  near  and  afar  to  witness 
this  barbarous  exhibition;  and  it  is  no 
exaggeration  to  say  that  the  occasion  was 
a  gala-day  for  ruffians,  blacklegs,  drunk- 
ards, gamblers,  and  prison  birds, —  Long 
Point  being  selected  in  order  to  escajje  the 
law  and  its  officers,  both  those  engag- 
ing in  these  fights  and  those  witness- 
ing them  being  branded  by  the  law  as 
felons,  and  punishable  with  fine  and 
imprisonment. 

At  this  time,  Morrissey's  height  was  five 
feet  and  eleven  and  three-fourths  inches, 
and  his  weight  about  one  hundred  and 
seventy-three  pounds.  Heenan  stood  six 
feet  two  inches,  and  his  weight  was  consid- 
erably more  than  Morrissey's.  The  colors 
of  INIorrissey  were  a  blue  with  white  bird's- 
eye  spots  ;  Heenan's  were  a  long  silk  scarf, 
with  the  American  ensign  at  one  half  the 
length.     Heenan's  appearance  was  hercu- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


685 


lean,  and  that  of  Morrissey  was  pronounced 
perfection  itself. 

Round  1. — After  a  little  feinting  for  an 
opening,  Morrissey  let  fly  his  left,  but  was 
stopped  neatly.  Heenan,  letting  fly  his 
right,  caught  Morrissey  with  a  tremendous 
hit  upon  the  left  eye.  Loud  cheers  here 
burst  forth  from  Hienan's  side,  mingled 
with  cries  of  "  First  blood  !  "  Heenan  dis- 
charged three  more  with  his  left  in  rapid 
succession,  pressing  Morrissey  toward  the 
ropes.  JMorrissey  seemed  surprised  at  this 
unexpected  cannonade,  and  some  des[)erate 
in-fighting  followed,  in  which  Heenan 
seemed  to  be  the  master.  Morrissey  broke 
away,  and  Heenan  struck  a  stake  instead 


f.e.M 


\Dr'£M^Vk 


of  his  man,  and  seriously  damaged  two  of 
his  knuckles.  Heenan  then  rushed  in,  and 
severe  hits  were  exchanged,  mostly  in  his 
favor.  Morrissey  then  seemed  on  the  point 
of  throwing  him,  when  Heenan  broke  the 
hold,  changed  the  position  in  his  own  favor, 
and  threw  Morrissey  heavilj^,  falling  upon 
him.  This  round  lasted  five  minutes,  and 
a  more  terrific  one  was  never  witnessed. 

Round  2. — Both  came  up  to  the  call  of 
time  promptly,  but  both  considerably  ex- 
hausted. No  sooner  had  they  reached  the 
scratch,  than  Morrissey  led  off  with  his 
left,  but  was  stopped.  He  tried  again,  and 
got  on  the  mouth,  and  was  heavily  cross- 
countered  on  the  nose,  Heenan  repeating 
this  twice  in  succession.  Morrissey  again 
planted  his  left  on  the  mouth,  and  his  right 
heavily  on  the  ribs;  but  Heenan,  from  his 
superior  length  of  reach,  was  able  to  get  in 


his  left  without  a  return.  He  hit  strong 
and  straight,  and  Morrissey  fought  rather 
wild  from  exhaustion.  At  length  they 
clinched,  and  in  the  struggle  Htenan's 
hand  was  seen  in  a  suspicious  manner  in 
the  face  of  Morrissey,  which  gave  rise  to 
the  cry  of  "  foul,"  under  the  idea  that  he 
was  gouging.  In  the  fall,  Morrissey  was 
thrown,  both  going  down  togethei*. 

Round  3. — Morrissey  forced  the  fight- 
ing and  got  home  his  left  on  the  face,  fol- 
lowing it  up  with  his  right  on  the  ribs. 
Heenan  countered,  but  was  stopped  twice 
in  succession.  He  would  not  be  denied, 
however,  and  cross-countered  heavily  on 
the  eye  and  nose,  but  received  a  terrific 
left-hander  over  the  region  of  the  heart ; 
and,  as  he  came  to  close  quarters,  IVIorris- 
sey  administered  a  severe  upper-cut,  which 
caused  copious  bleeding  at  the  nose. 

Round  4. — Neither  were  very  prompt  to 
time,  but  Heenan  was  most  fatigued.  At 
the  scratch  he  let  go  his  right,  but  wrs  out 
of  distance ;  he  tried  again,  and  got  home 
on  the  face,  which  staggered  Morrissey. 
The  latter  returned  on  the  mouth,  and,  as 
Heenan  came  in,  administered  a  spanking 
upper-cut,  which  caused  the  blood  to  flow 
freely  from  Heenan's  nose. 

Round  5. — Both  came  up  slow  to  time. 
Morrissey's  left  ej'^e  was  in  mourning,  and 
his  nose  swollen,  but  he  appeared  to  have 
got  his  second  wind,  while  Heenan  was 
exhibiting  unmistakable  symptoms  of  dis- 
tress. The  former  saw  his  advantage  in 
forcing  the  fighting,  and  led  off  with  his 
left,  causing  Heenan  to  stagger.  The  lat- 
ter countered,  but  again  did  Morrissey  get 
heavily  on  the  ribs.  As  Morrissey  bored 
in,  Heenan  steadied  himself,  and,  with  a 
well-delivered  and  straight  left-hander,  met 
Morrissey  as  he  came,  and  hitting  him  fair, 
knocked  him  off  his  legs;  the  yielding 
nature  of  the  ground,  however,  tending  to 
produce  this  result.  This  was  the  first 
knock  down  for  Heenan. 

Round  G. — Morrissey  came  up,  improv- 
ing everj'^  round,  while  Heenan  was  falling 
off.  The  former  took  the  initiative  by 
leading  off  and  getting  home  on  the  mouth. 
Both  were  out  of  wind,  and  stood  looking 


686 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


intently  at  each  other  for  a  short  space  of 
time,  \Yhen  tliey  were  called  to  the  scratch. 
]Morrissey  led  off  again,  and  got  in  his  left 
on  the  face,  Heenan  countering  him  on  the 
eye.  IMorrissey  threw  Heenan,  falling 
heavily  upon  liim. 

Round  7. — Heenan  evidently  had  he- 
come  weaker,  but  Morrissey  seemed  im- 
proving. On  reaching  the  scratch,  the 
former  led  off,  hut  was  easily  stopped,  and 
Morrissey  countered  on  the  neck.  He  tried 
it  again,  and  although  he  received  a  heavy 
right-hander  on  the  eye,  he  again  got  home 
a  heavy  rib-roaster.  Some  exchanges  in 
favor  of  Morrisse}'  ensued,  and,  in  the 
struggle  for  the  fall,  Heenan  was  thrown 
]leavil3^  A  cry  of  '  foul '  was  raised  against 
JMorrissej',  but  was  not  allowed. 

Round  8. — Morrissey  led  off,  and  forced 
the  fighting  in  Heenan's  corner.  He 
lunged  out  his  left,  and  caught  the  latter 
on  his  ribs  smartly,  and  planted  his  right 
on  the  mouth.  Heenan  countered  on  Mor- 
rissey's  face,  but  with  slight  effect.  He 
laid  himself  open,  however,  to  Morrissey's 
attack,  his  weak  state  being  painfully  evi- 
dent. In  the  close,  Morrissey  threw  him 
heavily. 

Round  9. — Morrissey  at  scratch  and  led 
off  promptly,  as  it  was  evident  that  Hee- 
nan was  fast  falling  from  weakness.  He 
countered  him  twice  in  succession,  on  the 
face  and  ribs,  wliile  Heenan  could  only  get 
liome  his  right  once.  He  almost  turned 
round  from  the  impetus  of  his  own  blow 
after  missing  Morrissey,  as  he  was  unable 
to  judge  the  distance  correctly.  IMorris- 
sey followed  him  up  to  liis  own  corner  and 
forced  the  fighting,  planting  his  right 
occasionally  on  the  body  and  his  left  on 
the  mouth  and  nose,  causing  a  copious  flow 
of  blood.  At  length  they  closed,  and 
Heenan  was  thrown. 

Round  10. — Morrissej'  again  led  off;  but 
it  was  evident  that  the  fight  would  be 
decided  in  his  favor.  He  was  strong  on 
liis  legs,  and  came  up  to  his  man  with 
determination.  With  the  other  it  was 
clear  that  nature  was  exhausted  fi-om  the 
tremendous  hitting  he  had  received.  Mor- 
rissey, indeed,  bore  evidence  of  the  great 


powers  of  hitting  exhibited  by  his  oppo- 
nent. His  left  eye  was  nearly  closed,  his 
mouth  and  nose  out  of  shape,  and  a  cut 
over  his  eye.  Morrissey  got  home  a  heavy 
facer,  and  was  countered  by  Heenan  on  the 
brow.  He  let  go  his  left,  and  again  visited 
the  mouth,  and,  as  Heenan  came  in,  met 
him  with  a  dangerous  upper-cut,  which 
took  effect,  rendering  Heenan  wild  in  his 
delivery.  Again  did  he  deliA'er  the  upper- 
cut,  and  with  effect,  as  it  almost  turned 
him  round.     Morrisse}'  threw  him  easily. 

Round  11,  and  last.  —  Morrissey  got 
heavily  home  on  the  mouth,  and  avoided 
the  return.  He  then,  as  Heenan  staggered 
in,  gave  him  an  upper  cut,  which  caused 
him  to  turn  almost  round.  Morrissey  met 
him,  and  planted  a  tremendous  blow  on  the 
neck,  which  again  almost  turned  him  round. 
He  followed  it  up  with  two  terrific  riglit 
and  left  banders  on  the  ribs  and  tliroat, 
which  sent  Heenan  down.  When  time 
was  called,  Heenan  was  still  insensible, 
and  his  seconds,  seeing  the  state  of  affairs, 
threw  iij)  the  sjjonge  in  token  of  defeat,  and 
IMorrissey  was  hailed  as  "  Chavijnon  of 
America  !  " 

All  the  courtesies  of  war  followed  with 
the  utmost  grace,  at  the  close  of  the  fight. 
IMorrissey  was  carried  over  to  his  fallen 
foe,  and,  in  true  French  style,  kissed  his 
hand  in  token  of  his  A-alor.  Both  were 
borne  from  the  field  in  the  same  wagon. 
The  next  morning,  Heenan  left  his  'card' 
on  Morrissey,  and  IMorrissey  sent  in  return 
a  gift  of  one  hundred  dollars  to  Heenan, 
who,  although  he  declined  a  purse  pre- 
sented, accepted  Morrissey's  gift  in  token 
of  amity. 

It  Avould  seem  from  the  same  newspaper 
accounts  from  which  the  preceding  narra- 
tion is  made  up,  that  Morrissey  and  his 
backers  had,  from  the  very  first,  expected 
that  he  would  trium])h.  The  betting  at 
the  commencement  was  five  hundred  dol- 
lars to  three  hundred,  which  was  taken  at 
once  ;  one  hundred  to  seventy  was  freely 
offered.  Morrissey  liimself  offered  to  lay 
his  opponent  one  thousand  to  six  hundred 
that  he  would  win  the  fight,  but  the  offer 
was  rejected — Heenan  stating  that  he  had 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


687 


no  money.  Morrissey  also  offered  to  lay 
five  liundreil  to  three  hundred  that  he 
gained  the  lirst  knock-down.  Even  betting 
on  the  first  blood,  first  fall,  and  first 
knock-down,  was  currently  offered.  The 
friends  of  Morrissey  displayed  the  greatest 
coniidence  in  him,  and  were  willing  to  take 
the  above  odds  to  any  amount.  Among 
the  bets  laid  was  one  between  the  trainers 
of  the  men.  Shepherd,  Morrissey's  trainer, 
laid  Aaron  Jones  'ten  English  Sovereigns' 
— fifty  dollars — that  Morrissey  would  win 
the  light,  which  was  accepted  by  Jones. 

So  brutal  and  disgusting  was  the  con- 
duct of  those  who  had  the  management  of 
this  fight,  that  the  opinion  of  it  expressed 
by  Jones,  himself  an  English  professional 
in  the  'ring,'  was  that  of  extreme  con- 
tempt. The  idea,  too,  of  men  going  to  see 
a  pugilistic  set-to,  armed  to  the  teeth,  was, 
to  him,  a  notion  as  novel  as  it  was  outrag- 
eous. One  incident,  in  particular,  showed 
the  spirit  rampant  during  the  day.  In 
one  of  the  rounds,  Heenan  was  fighting 
Morrissey  up  into  his  (Heenan's)  corner. 
Fearing,  in  the  clench,  one  or  both  of  the 
men  would  fall  on  him,  Jones  endeavored 
to  move  a  little  on  one  side,  when  Mulli- 
gan, clapping  his  hand  on  a  six-shooter, 
cried,  "  Keep  still — (a  slight  expletive) — 
or  I  shoot  you  down"  —  (another  slight 
expletive.)  Jones  was  one  of  Heenan's 
seconds,  and,  being  unaccustomed  to  such 
scenes  at  home — though  the  English  prize 
ring  is  certainly  as  disreputable  a  scene  as 
need  be, — he  was  in  very  natural  fear  of 
his  life  all  the  while  he  was  endeavoring 
to  fulfill  his  professional  duty. 

Morrissey  stated  in  conversation,  the 
next  morning,  that  he  felt  no  ordinary 
pleasure  when  his  task  was  at  an  end; 
that  he  went  into  the  ring  with  a  fidl  con- 
viction that  he  should  not  gain  a  bloodless 
victory,  and  that  he  should  get  his  brain- 
pan pretty  well  knocked  up;  that  it  was  a 
much  tougher  job  than  he  expected;  add- 
ing, also,  that  whoever  fought  Heenan,  in 
the  future,  must  put  up  with  a  good  deal 
more  punching  than  would  do  him  good. 
On  being  challenged  by  Heenan's  friends 
to  another  conflict,  for  five  thousand  dollars 


a  side,  Morrissey  declined ;  indeed,  pre- 
viously to  entering  the  ring  at  Long  Point, 
he  declared  his  intention  of  making  that 
his  last  appearance,  his  purpose  being  to 
set  up  a  drinking-saloon. 

But,  til  at  he  was  to  be  selected  to  fill  a 
seat  in  the  legislative  hall  where  Clay,  and 
Webster,  and  Randolph,  and  Everett, 
earned  immortal  laurels  of  wisdom  and 
eloquence,  was  a  thought  which,  at  this 
time,  had  probably  never  entered  his  bat- 
tered '  brain-pan,'  nor  had  such  an  event 
ever  occurred  even  in  the  somewhat 
speckled  annals  of  the  American  congress 
during  the  last  half-century.  The  fact  at 
least  kejjt  good  the  old  adage,  that  truth  is 
stranger  than  fiction.  Still,  though  lack- 
ing the  advantages  of  an  early  education^ 
and  accustomed  for  so  many  years  to  the 
companionship  and  pursuits  of  j^rize- 
fighters  and  gamblers,  Morrissey  showed 
himself  to  be  in  some  respects,  a  man  above 
his  position  and  contacts,  his  strong  points 
consisting  largely  in  his  manly  candor  and 
strong  common  sense.  \n  an  interview 
between  him  and  some  highly  resjiectable 
gentlemen,  held  in  New  York,  in  the  win- 
ter of  1866,  he  conversed  about  himself 
with  unreserved  frankness,  and  answered 
courteously  all  questions  that  were  pro- 
pounded him  by  the  persons  present.  He 
said  he  had  no  idea  of  becoming  a  candi- 
date for  congress  when  the  newspapers 
first  mentioned  his  name,  but  that  so  much 
had  been  said  against  him  by  certain  news- 
papers, that  he  concluded  to  become  a  can- 
didate and  show  them  that,  notwithstand- 
ing their  opposition  to  him  personally  and 
to  his  party  politically,  he  could  be  nomi- 
nated and  elected. 

After  his  nomination,  many  of  his 
friends  went  to  him  and  advised  him  to 
close  lip  his  gambling-houses  and  abandon 
all  business  of  that  character. 

"  If  I  am  elected,  I  must  be  taken  as  I 
am,"  was  his  reply. 

He  seemed  to  understand  and  appreciate 
the  significance  of  his  election,  an  over- 
whelming vote  being  cast  in  his  favor,  and 
the  attitude  in  which,  as  a  consequence, 
he   stood   before   the   country.      A   poor, 


688 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


uneducated  youth,  when  he  came  to  Amer- 
ica, he  fell  in  with  firemen,  local  politicians, 
and  gamblers,  Lut  said  he  had  done  the 
best  he  could,  and  had  always  been  fair 
between  man  and  man — had  been  a  prize- 
fighter and  a  gambler,  but  those  were  mat- 
ters that  could  not  be  helped  now;  he 
would  make  no  promise  for  the  future,  but 
did  not  intend  that  his  friends  should  have 
any  cause  to  regret  his  future  conduct  and 
course  of  life.  His  bearing,  in  congress, 
was  universally  conceded  to  have  been 
intelligent,  modest,  and  gentlemanly. 

The  most  notable  feature  in  Heenan's 
subsequent  professional  eareer,  was  the 
distinguished  honor,  as  it  was  deemed,  of 


crossing  the  Atlantic  to  meet  Sayers,  the 
great  English  pugilist,  in  what  was  termed 
the  "  Grand  International  Match  "  between 
England  and  America,  Sayers  appearing 
as  the  champion  of  the  former  and  Heenan 
of  the  latter.  The  brutal  set-to  was  wit- 
nessed by  a  vast  multitude  from  all  parts  of 
the  kingdom  and  the  continent,  including, 
also,  many  from  America,  and  British  lords 
and  noblemen  not  a  few.  Every  leading 
paper,  including  the  London  Times,  hith- 
erto opposed  to  the  thing,  sent  a  full  corps 
of  reporters  to  the  spot,  and  Lord  Palmer- 
ston,  in  his  place  in  parliament,  humor- 
ousl}^  vindicated  the  scene.  The  affair, 
however,  resulted  in  a  '  drawn  '  battle. 


LXXX. 

nOMICIDE  OF  IIOX.  P.  B.  KEY  BY  HON.  DANIEL  E.  SICKLES, 
MEMBEii  OF  CONGRESS,  IN  WASHINGTON,  D.  C— 1859. 


Seduction  of  Mrs.  Sickles  by  Mr.  Key. — Tiieir  Flagrant  Criminal  Intimacy. — Youtli,  Beauty,  and  Dis- 
tinguished Social  Position  of  Mis.  Sickles. — Full  Confession  of  the  Manner,  Times,  and  Place  of  Htr 
Guilt. — Mr.  Sickles  Tried  for  Murder  and  Triumphantly  Acquitted. — Mrs.  Sickles's  Fashionable 
Career. — Admiration  of  Her  Charms. — Key's  Amours  in  Female  Society. — His  Marked  Attentions 
to  Mrs.  Sickles. — An  Anonymous  Letter  to  Mr.  Sickles — His  Wife's  Infidelity  Disclosed — Plans  to 
Discover  the  Trutii — Sad  Hevelations  Made — Regular  Assignations  for  Months — House  Rented  for 
this  Purpose — A  Husband's  Agony  — Detects  Key  Signaling  to  Mrs.  Sickles. —  Kushts  from  the 
House  in  a  Frenzy. — Encounters  Key  on  the  Street — Angry  Salutations:  a  Grapple. — Key  Shot 
Dead:  Last  Words. — The  Seducer  in  His  Coffin. — House  of  Infamy  Described — Sickles  Indicted 
and  in  Court. — Public  Rejoicings  at  the  Verdict. — Mrs.  Sickles's  Brief  Future. — Fair,  Ruined,  For- 
given, Dead. 


'  You  scoundrel, you  have  dishonored  my  house— you  must  did"— Exclamatioh  of  Sickles,  ojr  fibinq  at  Ket. 


NTP:NSE     excitement    filled    the    public 

mind,  when  the  tragic  news  was  heralded 

from  the  federal   capital,  that  the  Hon.  Philip  Barton  Key,  district  attorney  for  the 

District  of  Columbia,  had  been  shot  dead  in  one  of  the  streets  in  Washington,  by  the 
U 


690 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Hon.  Daniel  E.  Sickles,  member  of  con- 
gress from  Kew  York,  because  of  criminal 
intercoui'se  between  Mr.  Key  and  Mrs. 
Sickles.  This  terrible  homicide  took  place 
on  Sunday,  February  27,  1859,  and,  not- 
withstanding its  sanguinary  and  deplora- 
ble character,  was  almost  universally 
viewed  as  the  inevitable  sequel  to  a  rela- 
tionship of  guilt  between  two  of  the  par- 
ties, such  as,  in  its  bold  wantonness,  had 
rarely  been  equaled  even  in  circles  of  soci- 
ety far  less  distinguished.  The  circum- 
stances of  this  event,  as  here  reproduced 
from  the  journals  of  the  day,  wall  be  found 
to  possess  an  interest  equally  rare  and 
sad,  in  the  criminal  annals  of  the  centur3% 

Of  the  three  individuals  immediately 
involved  in  this  transaction,  Mr.  Key  was 
the  senior  in  years.  He  was  a  man  of  fine 
presence,  tall  stature,  and  winning  man- 
ners, and  belonged  to  a  family  which  for 
nearly  half  a  century  had  been  settled  at 
Washington,  and  moved  in  the  highest 
ranks.  His  father  had  been  a  prominent 
man  in  his  day,  and  composed  the  Star 
Spangled  Banner.  About  sixteen  years 
prior  to  the  tragedy,  Attorney  Key  mar- 
ried a  Miss  Swan,  of  Baltimore.  After 
bearing  him  four  children,  this  lady  died 
some  ten  years  from  the  time  of  her  mar- 
riage ;  since  her  death,  Mr.  Key  remained 
unmarried.  Before  his  alliance  with  Miss 
Swan,  he  was  quite  noted  as  a  ''lady's 
man";  and  as  a  widower  his  prestige  in 
tliis  respect  returned  to  him,  no  man  in 
Washington  being  more  popular  with  the 
fair  sex. 

Mr.  Sickles  had  for  some  years  been  a 
prominent  New  York  lawyer  and  politician. 
In  1853,  he  married  Miss  Teresa  Bagioli, 
daugliter  of  an  Italian  music  teaclier 
residing  in  New  York ;  she  was  seventeen 
years  of  age,  very  pretty  and  girlish,  ex- 
tremely attractive  in  manner,  well  edu- 
cated, and  charming  in  every  way.  The 
same  year,  on  the  appointment  of  Mr. 
Buchanan  as  minister  to  England,  tlie 
latter  cliose  Mr.  Sickles  as  his  secretary  of 
legation,  to  accept  which,  Mr.  Sickles 
resigned  his  office  of  corporation  attorney 
of  New  York  city.     He  took  his  bride  with 


him  to  Europe,  where  her  beauty  attracted 
the  marked  attention  of  the  English, 
Dutch,  and  French  courts;  and  during  her 
whole  residence  in  London,  she  received 
the  most  flattering  attentions  from  many 
persons  whose  names  are  historical,  and 
was  especially  beloved  by  Lady  Clarendon 
and  Lady  Palmerston,  as  well  as  by  other 
leaders  of  the  British  aristocracy.  A 
daughter  was  in  course  of  time  born  to  the 
happy  couple,  and  named  Laura. 

Returning  to  America  before  the  presi- 
dential election,  Mr.  Sickles  exerted  him- 
self actively  in  favor  of  Mr.  Buchanan,  and 
was  elected  member  of  congress  at  the 
time  his  patron  was  chosen  president. 
Subsequently,  Mr.  Sickles  resided  partly 
at  Washington  and  partly  in  New  York. 
At  Washington,  he  lived  in  the  most 
fashionable  quarter,  on  Lafayette  Square, 
within  a  stone's  throw  of  the  president's 
house.  His  hospitalities  were  liberal  and 
graceful, — receptions,  dinners,,  and  balls, 
vieing  with  those  of  the  most  opulent  sen- 
ators and  cabinet  ministers.  Of  these 
entertainments  IVIrs.  Sickles  was  the  soul 
and  charm.  Her  being  a  universal  favor- 
ite, however,  did  not  blind  the  eyes  of 
those  around  her  to  the  particular  atten- 
tions paid  her  by  Mr.  Key.  Long  before 
the  final  traged}',  this  intimacy  between 
the  two  had  not  onl}'^  been  remarked  in 
society,  but  had  led  to  notes  between  Mr. 
Key  and  Mr.  Sickles  ;  the  latter,  however, 
became  entirely  satisfied  by  the  explana- 
tions made,  and  harmony  continued. 

It  would  appear  that,  in  their  subse- 
quent proceedings,  neither  Mr.  Key  nor 
Mrs.  Sickles  acted  with  ordinary  prudence, 
the  frequency  of  their  clandestine  meet- 
ings, and  their  mode  of  signaling  to  each 
other,  being  too  obvious  to  escape  the 
notice  of  others.  Their  guilty  amours 
were  now  approaching  a  deadly  termina- 
tion. On  the  24th  of  February,  Mr. 
Sickles  liad  a  dinner-party  at  his  house. 
After  the  dinner,  the  host  and  most  of 
the  guests  went  to  a  hop  at  Willard's  hotel. 
As  he  was  leaving  his  house,  Mr.  Sickles 
received  a  letter,  which  he  thrust,  un- 
opened,  into  his  pocket.     On  his  return 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


691 


home,  he  opened  this  letter,  and  found  it 
to  be  anonymous ;  it  stated  that  a  guilty 
intrigue  existed  between  Mr.  Key  and 
]\[rs.  Sickles,  and  added  that  they  were  in 
the  habit  of  meeting  at  a  house  leased 
from  a  negio,  the  location  of  which  it 
specified.  Mr.  Sickles  spent  a  sleepless 
night,  and  early  next  morning  dispatched 
a  friend  to  the  locality  in  question,  to 
watch.  The  friend  saw  nothing  ;  but,  from 
the  inquiries  he  made,  he  ascertained  tlu.t 
a  lady  resembling  Mrs.  Sickles  had,  in 
fact,  been  in  the  habit  of  meeting  a  gen- 
tleman in  the  house  designated.  Armed 
with  these  presumptions,  Mr.  Sickles 
charged  his  wife  with  adultery.  She  ex- 
claimed, "  OA,  I  see  I  am  discovered!" 
and  confessed  her  guilt,  imploring  her 
husband  to  spare  her.  He  declared  that 
he  did  not  wish  to  injure  her,  but  she 
must  put  her  confession  in  writing,  which 
she  did. 


PHILIP  BARTON   KBT. 


In  the  confession  made  by  Mrs.  Sickles, 
the  most  important  statements  are  as  fol- 
lows:  I  have  been  in  a  house  in  Fifteenth 
street,  with  Mr.  Key  ;  how  many  times,  I 
don't  know;  I  believe  the  house  belongs 
to  a  colored  man  ;  the  house  is  unoccupied ; 
commenced  going  there  the  latter  part  of 
January ;  have  been  in  alone  and  with 
Mr.  Key ;  usually  staid  an  hour  or  more. 
There  was  a  bed  in  tlie  second  story — I 
did  what  is  usual  for  a  wicked  woman  to 
do.  The  intimacy  commenced  this  winter, 
when  I  came  from  New  York,  in  that 
house — an  intimacy  of  an  improper  kind  ; 
have  met  half  a  dozen  times  or  more,  at 
different  hours  of  the  day ;  on  Monday  of 


this  week,  and  Wednesday  also;  would 
arrange  meetings  when  we  met  in  the 
street  and  at  parties.  Never  would  speak 
to  him  when  Mr.  Sickles  was  at  home, 
because  I  knew  he  did  not  like  me  to 
speak  to  him.  Did  not  see  Mr.  Key  for 
some  days  after  I  got  here  ;  he  then  tcild 
me  he  had  hired  the  house  as  a  place 
where  he  and  I  could  meet.  I  agreed  to 
it.  Have  walked  there  together,  say  four 
times — I  do  not  think  more  ;  was  there  on 
Wednesday  last,  between  two  and  three. 
I  went  there  alone.  Laura  was  at  Mrs. 
Hoover's ;  Mr.  Key  took  and  left  her 
there  at  my  request.  I  think  the  intimacy 
commenced  in  April  or  May,  1858.  I  did 
not  think  it  safe  to  meet  him  in  this  house, 
because  there  are  servants  who  might  sus- 
pect something;  as  a  general  thing,  have 
worn  black  and  white  woolen  plaid  dress, 
and  beaver  hat  trimmed  with  black  velvet ; 
have  worn  a  black  silk  dress  there  also, 
also  a  plaid  silk  dress,  black  velvet  cloak 
trimmed  with  lace,  and  black  velvet  shawl 
trimmed  with  fringe;  on  Wednesday  I 
either  had  on  my  brown  dress  or  black  and 
white  woolen  dress,  beaver  hat  and  velvet 
shawl.  I  arranged  with  Mr.  Kej-  to  go  in 
the  back  waj'^,  after  leaving  Laura  at  Mrs. 
Hoover's.  He  met  me  at  Mr.  Douglass's ; 
the  arrangement  to  go  in  the  back  way 
was  either  made  in  the  street  or  by  Mr. 
Douglass,  as  we  would  be  less  likely  to  be 
seen  ;  the  house  is  in  Fifteenth  street, 
between  K  and  L  streets,  on  the  left-hand 
side  of  the  way. 

The  confession  thus  made  by  ^L's. 
Sickles  w^as  written  in  her  own  hand,  in 
the  evening.  All  that  night,  according  to 
the  evidence  given  by  inmates  of  tlie 
house,  she  lay  in  great  mental  distress, 
with  her  head  on  a  chair.  The  ensuing 
Sundaj'^,  Mr.  Sickles  was  i^i  great  agon}^, 
tearing  his  hair,  and  calling  on  God  to  wit- 
ness his  troubles.  In  the  morning,  he  sent 
for  his  friend,  Mr,  Butterworth,  wbo,  on 
his  arrival  at  the  house,  found  Mr.  Sickles 
almost  beyond  self-control,  and  exclaiming 
continually,  "  I  am  a  dishonored  and  ruined 
man,  and  cannot  look  3'ou  in  the  face  ! " 
]\L:.   Butterworth    counseled   moderation ; 


692 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


and,  on  leaving  the  house  for  a  few  min- 
utes, he  was  informed  on  his  return,  that 
Key  had  just  passed  the  house  twice,  wav- 
insr  or  twirlins;  his  handkerchief  three 
times  as  a  signal. 

While  conversing  with  Mr.  Woolbridge, 
a  mutual  friend  who  had  also  called,  Mr. 
Sickles  came  into  the  library  and  said  he 
had  "seen  the  scoundrel  making  signals  ;  " 
and  he  added,  "  My  God  !  this  is  horrible  !" 
Mr.  Butterworth  said,  "  Mr.  Sickles,  you 
must  be  calm,  and  look  this  matter  square 
in  the  face.  If  there  be  a  possibility  of 
keeping  the  certain  knotoledge  of  this 
crime  from  the  public,  you  must  do  noth- 
ing to  destroy  that  possibility.  You  may 
be  mistaken  in  your  belief  that  it  is  known 
to  the  whole  city."  He  instantly  replied, 
"  No,  no,  my  friend,  I  am  not ;  it  is 
already  the  town  talk."  To  this,  Mr.  But- 
terworth said,  "If  that  be  so,  there  is  but 
one  course  left  for  you,  as  a  man  of  honor 
— you  need  no  advice."  After  a  few 
moments'  silence,  Mr.  Sickles  remarked 
that  he  "was  satisfied  that  Mr.  Key  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  making  his  signals 
from  a  window  of  the  club-house  opposite 
— and  what  surprised  him  very  much  was 
that  his  wife  strenuously  denied  this, 
though  freely  confessing  her  guilt."  Mr. 
Sickles  then  walked  into  the  hall,  saying 
to  Mr.  Butterworth,  "Come,  go  over  with 
me  to  Stewart's  room  in  the  club-house, 
and  he  may  be  able  to  inform  me  whether 
Key  has  a  room  there,  and  for  what  pur- 
poses he  uses  it."  To  this  Mr.  Butter- 
worth assented,  and  walked  out  into  the 
street,  supposing  that  Mr.  Sickles  was 
following  him. 

Mr.  Butterworth  further  stated  that, 
when  he  left  Mr.  Sickles  in  the  hall,  he 
was  satisfied  that  Mr.  Sickles  had  no 
weapons  on  his 'person.  "  He  was  without 
his  overcoat.  He  said  nothing  to  me 
about  weapons,  or  the  proliability  of  en- 
countering Mr.  Key.  I  walked  slowly 
down  the  avenue,  on  the  south  side,  to  the 
corner,  and,  as  I  was  crossing  the  street,  I 
saw  Mr.  Key  advance  a  few  steps  toward 
me.  He  saluted  me,  saying,  "Good 
morning,  Mr.  Butterworth.     What  a  fine 


day  we  have."  I  responded^  and  said, 
"  Have  you  come  from  the  club  ?  "  He 
said,  "  I  have."  I  asked,  "  Is  Mr.  Stew- 
art in  his  room  ?  "  He  answered,  "  Yes, 
and  he  is  quite  unwell."  I  then  said,  "  I 
am  going  to  see  him.  Good  morning ;  " 
and  turned  to  leave  him.  As  I  did  so,  I 
saw  Mr.  Sickles,  for  the  first  time  after 
leaving  his  house,  coming  rapidly  down 
Sixteenth  street,  on  the  side  next  the 
square,  and  then  near  the  corner.  I  had 
walked  about  thirty  feet  on  my  way  to  the 
club,  when  I  heard  Mr.  Sickles  exclaim,  in 
a  loud  voice, 

'■'■Key,  you  scoundrel,  you  have  dishon- 
ored my  house — you  mttst  die  !  " 

Immediately  turning  around,  Mr.  But- 
terworth states  that  he  saw  Mr.  Key 
thrust  his  hand  into  his  vest  or  side  coat- 
pocket,  to  take  a  step  in  the  direction  of 
Mr.  Sickles,  and,  simultaneously,  heard 
the  discharge  of  a  pistol.  Mr.  Key  then 
rapidly  advanced  on  Mr.  Sickles,  seized 
him  with  his  left  hand  by  the  collar  of  the 
coat,  and  seemed  to  make  an  effort  to 
strike  with  something  in  his  right  hand. 
Tliis  proved  to  be  merely  an  opera-glass. 
Mr.  Sickles  backed  into  the  middle  of  the 
street,  when  he  succeeded  in  extricating 
himself  from  Mr.  Key's  grasj),  drew  a 
pistol  from  his  overcoat  pocket,  presented 
it  at  Mr.  Key,  who  retreated  backward  up 
Sixteenth  street,  toward  the  club,  and 
threw  something  at  Mr.  Sickles  —  the 
opera-glass.  Mr.  Sickles  followed,  and, 
when  within  ten  feet,  fired.  Mr.  Key  Avas 
wounded.  He  staggered  toward  the  side- 
walk, exclaiming  "  IJonH  shoot  me  !  "  He 
leaned  for  a  moment  against  a  tree,  when 
IVIr.  Sickles  advanced  upon  him,  exploded 
a  cap,  and  then  fired  a  third  time.  As 
Mr.  Key  Avas  falling,  Mr.  Sickles  fre- 
quently exclaimed,  "  Yoxi  villaiv,  you  have 
dishovori'd  7711/  lionise,  and  you  must  die!" 
After  Mr.  Key  fell,  there  was  no  more 
firing.     The  wounds  were  mortal. 

After  Mr.  Sickles's  arrest  and  conveyal 
to  jail,  he  maintained  a  perfectly  calm 
demeanor,  conversing  with  his  friends,  and 
freel}'  stating  the  particulars  of  the  case. 
He  seemed  to  feel  that  he  could  have  pur- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


693 


sued  no  other  course  toward  the  deceased 
— tliat  no  satisfaction  which  the  law  could 
give  would  redress  his  wrong.  Nor  did  he 
conceal  his  continued  love  for  his  wife, 
though  depriving  her  of  her  wedding 
ring  and  other  marriage  souvenirs.  Mrs. 
Sickles  wrote  Mr.  Sickles  several  letters, 
full  of  devoted  expressions  of  gratitude  for 
his  uniform  kindness  toward  her,  and  of 
heart-rending  declarations  of  repentance 
for  having  plunged  him  into  so  much 
sorrow.  His  only  fault,  she  averred,  was 
that  of  being  too  kind  and  over-indulgent; 
had  he  been  less  so,  and  guarded  her  more 
carefully  by  the  exercise  of  a  husband's 
authority,  she  declared  that  her  lamenta- 
ble position  would  have  been  avoided.  To 
such  an  extreme  of  men- 
tal agony  did  she  be- 
come reduced,  and  be- 
lieving that  if  she  con- 
tinued long  in  such  a 
state  of  feeling,  it  would 
probably  end  in  de- 
rangement o  r  self-de- 
struction, appeal  was 
made  by  a  mutual 
friend,  to  Mr.  Sickles,  to 
restore  to  Mrs.  Sickles 
the  wedding  ring  which 
he  had  taken  from  her 
hand  on  the  day  of  the 
tragedy.  Mr.  Sickles 
said,  in  response,  that 
under  these  circum- 
stances he  could  not 
resist  the  appeal  in  be- 
half of  one  he  had  so  long  cherished  with 
such  deep  affection,  and  that  while  he  was 
willing  to  return  the  emblem  of  their 
former  love  and  union,  he  must,  though 
harboring  no  feelings  of  resentment,  re- 
turn it  broJcen. 

Mr.  Sickles  had  many  callers  while  in 
jail,  including  members  of  the  cabinet,  and 
of  congress,  innumerable,  and  other  official 
dignitaries.  President  Buchanan  sent  a 
message  of  condolence  to  him.  Mrs. 
Sickles  had  but  few  calls  from  her  former 
friends.  The  scene  at  the  jail,  on  the 
arrival  of  Mrs.  Sickles's  mother  and  father, 


when  brought  into  the  presence  of  Mr. 
Sickles,  was  very  harrowing,  the  screams 
and  sobs  of  the  poor  woman  completely 
overwhelming  him. 

Naturally  enough,  the  house  of  assigna- 
tion on  Fifteenth  street  was,  for  a  time, 
the  object  of  excited  curiosity  to  multi- 
tudes of  visitors  —  a  queer  building,  of 
substantial  brick,  standing  directly  on  the 
street,  two  stories  in  height,  narrow,  with 
a  roof  slightly  sloping  toward  the  sidewalk, 
a  small  porch,  and  an  L  running  back  to  a 
muddy  alley.  For  this  house.  Key  paid 
fifty  dollars  per  month,  and  almost  every 
morning  he  was  seen,  at  nine  or  ten  o'clock, 
to  enter  the  front  door.  He  came  gener- 
ally on  foot,  but  sometimes  on  horseback, 


y^^^^ 


hitching  his  iron-gray  to  a  convenient 
post.  He  was  in  the  habit  of  signifying 
his  presence  in  the  house  by  a  red  ribbon 
hung  from  an  upper  room  in  the  rear, 
which  could  be  seen  from  the  cross-streets. 
Mrs.  Sickles  would  walk  down  one  of  these, 
usually  K  street,  which  was  nearest  her 
house,  and,  upon  catching  sight  of  the 
signal,  this  charming  lad}' — one  of  the 
most  beautiful  and  idolized  in  the  highest 
circle  of  "Washington  society,  and  but 
lately  the  flattered  and  beloved  companion 
of  Lady  Palmerston  and  other  leaders  at 
European  courts — would  dart  between  the 


694 


OUE  FIEST  CENTUEY.— 1776-1876. 


negro  huts,  up  the  blind  and  muddy  alley, 
and  by  a  back  gate  reach  the  place  where 
the  partner  of  her  guilt  and  ruin  was  in 
waiting.  Sometimes  she  was  in  a  morn- 
ing dress,  sometimes  disguised,  sometimes 
with  her  face  enveloped  in  a  large  hood. 

The  murdered  man  was  conveyed  to  his 
late  residence  and  placed  in  his  coffin. 
The  body  was  strewed  with  white  camel- 
lias. Tlie  face  was  calm  in  expression, 
and  still  wore  the  sandy  mustache  which 
adorned  it  in  life.  For  more  than  two 
liours  after  the  deceased  was  arrayed  for 
])is  final  resting-place,  a  motley  crowd — 
boy  and  man,  rich  and  poor,  black  and 
white,  free  and  slave — i)oured  through  the 
parlor  to  take  a  glimpse  of  the  corpse. 
Only  when  the  clergymen  took  their 
jilaces  did  the  mourners  appear — few  in 
number,  for  the  mother  of  the  dead  man, 
more  than  seventy  years  of  age,  and  who 
in  this  last  berearement  mourned  the  vio- 
lent death  of  the  third  of  her  five  sons, 
was  in  Baltimore,  and  the  children  were 
with  her. 

On  the  fourth  of  April,  ensuing,  Mr. 
Sickles  was  put  on  his  trial  for  murder, 
before  the  criminal  court  of  Washington, 
Judge  Crawford  presiding.  The  public 
prosecutor  was  Mr.  Ould,  the  new  district 
attorney,  and  associated  with  him  was  Mr. 
Carlisle.  The  prisoner  was  defended  by 
Messrs.  Brady  and  Graham  of  New  York ; 
Stanton,  Cliilton,  and  Eatcliffe,  of  Wash- 
ington ;  and  several  others,  among  whom 
was  Mr.  Tliomas  F.  Meagher.  In  a  clear 
voice,  Mr.  Sickles  pleaded  "Not  Guilty." 

The  excitement  during  the  trial  was 
most  intense,  and  extended  to  the  remot- 
est parts  of  the  land.  A  great  amount  of 
evidence  was  put  in,  the  discussions  and 
arguments  of  the  learned  ai-ray  of  counsel 
were  listened  to  by  crowded  audiences,  and 
profound  solemnity  marked  every  counte- 
nimce.  During  the  examination  of  his 
friendj  Hon.  E.  J.  Walker,  as  the  latter 
was  describing  the  spasmodic  agony  in 
which  he  found  Mr.  Sickles,  on  calling  at 
his  house  February  27th,  Mr.  Sickles  was 
violently  affected,  breaking  out  into  sobs 
and  profusely  shedding  tears,  so  that,  sup- 


ported by  friends  on  each  side,  he  was 
obliged  to  be  conducted  to  another  room 
for  relief.  The  witness  particularly,  and 
many  of  the  spectators,  were  moved  to 
tears.  The  scene  was  one  of  deep  inter- 
est. In  a  few  minutes  Mr.  Sickles  was 
brought  back  into  court,  his  countenance 
still  indicating  extreme  mental  suffering. 

Two  main  propositions  constituted  the 
substance  of  Mr.  Sickles's  legal  defense, 
namely,  that  the  adulterer  may  be  slain 
with  impunity  by  the  injured  husband, 
and  that,  at  the  time  of  the  homicide,  Mr. 
Sickles,  goaded  to  exasperation,  was  in 
such  a  state  of  mind  that  he  was  not 
accountable  for  his  acts.  Nor  did  the  jury 
fail  to  be  impressed  when  the  pathetic 
appeal  was  made  to  them,  in  the  closing 
argument,  to  place  an  estimate  by  their 
verdict  on  the  purity  of  the  marriage  bed — 
for,  if  Mr.  Sickles  were  to  be  convicted, 
no  man's  wife  or  daughter  would  afterward 
be  safe. 

On  the  retiring  of  the  jurj^  to  deliberate 
as  to  what  should  be  their  verdict,  many 
of  the  audience  crowded  around  the  dock 
to  cheer  and  support  Mr.  Sickles,  in  that 
pregnant  moment  of  his  fate.  Among 
them  Avas  the  Eev.  Dr.  Sunderland,  of  the 
Presbj'terian  church,  who,  taking  Mr. 
Sickles  by  the  hand,  said,  substantially, 
"  Sir,  I  have  come  to  express  to  3'ou  my 
heart-felt  sympathy,  and  to  sa}'  that  if  the 
voice  of  the  people  of  this  city  could  speak 
at  this  moment,  your  acquittal  would  be 
instantaneous.  In  case,  however,  an  ad- 
verse verdict  should  be  rendered,  be  as- 
sured that  you  have  hearts  around  you, 
and  mine  not  the  least  warm  of  them,  to 
sustain  jon  in  your  affliction."  INIr. 
Sickles  was  much  moved  by  this  incident, 
and  expressed  his  thanks  as  well  as  his 
emotion  would  permit  him. 

Time  wore  on,  each  moment  seeming  an 
hour.  At  last  the  door  was  opened,  and 
the  jur}'  came  in,  one  by  one,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  take  their  seats  in  the  box.  All 
restraint  was  forgotten,  in  the  anxiety  to 
see  their  faces.  Benches,  and  forms,  and 
tables,  were  mounted  by  the  excited  and 
venturesome.     All   uproar,  however,  sub- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


695 


sided  instantly,  when  the  judge  directed 
the  clerk  to  cull  the  jurors'  names.  When 
the  twelfth  name  was  called  and  res2)onded 
to,  a  pin  might  have  been  heard  to  drop. 

"  Daniel  E.  Sickles,  stand  up  and  look 
to  the  jury,"  cried  the  clerk,  as  he  broke 
the  deathly  stillness  of  the  vast  and  anx- 
ious assembly. 

Mr.  Sickles  stood  up. 

"How  say  you,  gentlemen;  have  you 
agreed  to  j'our  verdict  ?  "  asked  the  clerk. 

"  We  liave,"  answered  the  foreman. 

"How  say  you;  do  you  find  the  pris- 
oner at  the  bar  guilty,  or  not  guilty  ?  " 
inquired  the  clerk. 


"Not  guilty !^^  was  the  foreman's 
prompt  reply. 

As  these  words  fell  from  the  foreman's 
lips,  there  was  one  loud,  wild,  thrilling, 
tumultuous  hurrah  sent  up  by  the  specta- 
tors; cheer  after  cheer  resounded  in  the 
court-room,  and  it  was  taken  up  by  the 
multitude  outside  and  repeated.  Hats 
and  handkerchiefs  were  waved,  and  there 
was  one  general  rush  for  the  dock. 

Mr.  Sickles,  amidst  the  renewed  cheers 
of  the  assembled  crowd,  was  taken  out  of 
of  the  dock  by  Captain  Wiley  and  Mr. 
Brega,  the  former,  one  of  Mr.  Sickles's 
most  devoted  friends,  kissing  him  at  the 
moment  of  deliverance,  and  holding  fast 
by  him  as  they  tried  to  make  their  way  to 


the  door.  It  was  slow  work,  for  congratu- 
lations, earnest,  loud,  and  frankly  ex- 
pressed, saluted  Mr.  Sickles  at  all  points. 
Finally,  by  dint  of  much  crushing  and 
great  exertion,  a  passage  to  the  door  was 
effected,  and  as  soon  as  Mr.  Sickles  was 
recognized  from  the  outside,  the  cheers 
were  again  taken  up. 

Like  wildfire,  the  news  ran  through 
every  part  of  the  city,  and  from  every 
direction  crowds  were  liurrying  to  the 
court-house.  The  excitement  was  as  in- 
tense as  it  was  instantaneous.  As  Mr. 
Sickles  stepped  down  the  stone  stairs  of 
the  building,  surrounded  and  supported  by 
his  immediate  personal  friends,  he  was 
enthusiastically  cheered,  and  loud  calls 
were  made  upon  him  for  a  speech.  With 
considerable  exertion,  for  he  was  fast  be- 
coming faint,  he  was  got  into  one  of  the 
numerous  carriages  in  waiting.  In  the 
same  carriage  were  Messrs.  Graham,  Wi- 
le}', and  Brown,  of  New  York.  A  move- 
ment was  made  by  the  crowd  to  take  the 
horses  out  of  the  carriage  and  to  draw  it 
themselves,  but  the  movement  was  detected 
in  time  and  prevented.  Mr.  Sickles's  car- 
riage was  followed  to  the  very  door  of  his 
house,  by  an  excited  and  enthusiastic 
crowd,  waving  their  hats  and  handker- 
chiefs, and  shouting  their  expressions  of 

joy- 

The  emotions  of  the  counsel,  when  the 
jury  returned  their  verdict,  were  mani- 
fested in  various  ways.  Mr.  Brady,  in 
spite  of  all  his  experience  as  a  criminal 
lawyer,  became  pale,  nervous,  and  agi- 
tated ;  Mr.  Stanton,  unable  to  repress  the 
emotions  of  his  big  heart,  is  described  as 
having  almost  rivaled  David,  when  he 
danced  before  the  ark  of  the  tabernacle; 
the  usual  stolidity  of  Mr.  Phillips  gave 
way,  and,  covering  his  face  with  his  hands, 
he  wept  like  a  child;  Messrs.  Magruder, 
Ratcliffe,  and  Chilton,  pressed  forward 
and  greeted  their  liberated  client;  Mr. 
Meagher,  in  the  exuberance  of  his  heart, 
clapped  jieople  on  the  back,  and  asked  if 
it  was  not  "glorious;"  Mr.  Graham  was 
passive  and  undemonstrative,  though  one 
of  the  first  to  welcome  back  his  client  to 


696 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


freedom.  The  district  attorney'  said,  "he 
thought  it  would  be  so."  and  his  associate, 
Mr.  Carlisle,  avoided  the  scene.  As  to  the 
jailor,  he  wept  freely,  and  could  not  under- 
stand Mr.  Meagher  when  he  condoled  with 
him  on  losing  his  tenant. 

After  all  was  over,  nine  or  ten  of  the 
jurors  went  to  Mr.  Brady's  jiarlor,  and 
there,  in  the  freedom  of  unrestrained  con- 
versation, expressed  their  real  sentiments. 
One  of  them  said,  "  I  want  you,  sir,  to  tell 
the  people  of  New  York,  that  the  citizens 
of  Washington  are  not  behind  those  of  any 
other  part  of  the  country  in  devotion  to 
the  family  altar ;  "  and  yet  this  juror  was 
spoken  of,  all  through  the  trial,  as  one  who 
would  probably  dissent  from  the  rest. 

Another  of  the  juroi-s,  a  3'oung  man, 
brought  with  him  his  fiddle,  with  which 
he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  solacing  him- 
self and  his  fellow-jurymen,  during  the  long 
evenings  of  their  seclusion,  and  jilaj'ed 
several  airs.  He,  too,  had  been  regarded 
with  suspicion,  because  of  certain  political 
antecedents.  "  But,"  remarked  Mr.  Brady, 
"  if  we  had  known  that  he  played  the 
fiddle  we  might  have  made  our  minds  eas}^, 
for  no  fiddler  was  ever  known  to  find  a 
conviction  of  murder." 

The  foreman  said  that  his  only  fear  had 
been  that  his  health  might  not  last  him 
throughout  the  trial,  and  that  he  hoped 
that  his  latest  posterity  would  honor  his 
memory,  from  his  having  served  on  that 
jury.  Another  of  the  jury, — the  wag  and 
mimic  among  them, — expressing  himself 
in  regard  to  the  justification  of  Mr. 
Sickles,  said  he  would  not  for  himself  have 
been  satisfied  with  a  mere  Derringer  or 
revolver,  but  would  have  brought  a  how- 
itzer to  bear  on  the  seducer  !  Of  a  some- 
what different  temperament  was  the  mem- 
ber who,  on  retiring  from  the  court-room 
with  his  fellows,  withdrew  into  a  corner, 
and  on  his  knees  invoked  divine  guidance; 
got  up,  entered  into  the  deliberations, 
again  retired  to  the  corner,  and  finally  rose 
with  his  mind  fully  made  up  in  favor  of 
acquittal. 

Consistently  with  his  oft-repeated  ex- 
pressions of  continued  affection  for  his  wife, 


Mr.  Sickles  renewed  his  matrimonial  rela- 
tions with  her,  in  a  short  time.  In  ex- 
planation of  his  course  in  this  respect,  Mr. 
Sickles  said,  in  a  published  letter :  "  My 
reconciliation  with  my  wife  was  my  own 
act,  done  without  consultation  with  any 
relative,  connection,  friend,  or  adviser. 
Whatever  blame,  if  any,  belongs  to  the 
step,  should  fall  alone  upon  me.  I  am 
prepared  to  defend  what  I  have  done, 
before  the  only  tribunal  I  recognize  as 
having  the  slightest  claim  to  jurisdiction 
over  the  subject — mj^  own  conscience  and 
the  bar  of  Heaven.  I  am  not  aware  of  any 
statute  or  code  of  morals  which  makes  it 
infamous  to  forgive  a  woman  ;  nor  is  it 
usual  to  make  our  domestic  life  a  subject 
of  consultation  with  friends,  no  matter 
how  near  and  dear  to  us.  And  I  cannot 
allow  even  all  the  world  combined  to  dic- 
tate to  me  the  repudiation  of  my  wife, 
when  I  think  it  right  to  forgive  her  and 
restore  her  to  my  confidence  and  protec- 
tion. If  I  ever  failed  to  comprehend  the 
utterly  desolate  position  of  an  offending 
though  penitent  woman  —  the  hopeless 
future,  with  its  dark  possibilities  of  dan- 
ger, to  which  she  is  doomed  when  pro- 
scribed as  an  outcast  —  I  can  now  see 
plainly  enough,  in  the  almost  universal 
howl  of  denunciation  with  which  she  is  fol- 
lowed to  my  threshhold,  the  misery  and 
peril  from  which  I  have  rescued  the 
mother  of  my  child.  And  although  it  is 
very  sad  for  me  to  incur  the  blame  of 
friends  and  the  reproaches  of  many  wise 
and  good  people,  I  shall  strive  to  prove  to 
all  who  may  feel  an  interest  in  me,  that,  if 
I  am  the  first  man  who  has  ventured  to 
say  to  the  world  iV;  erring  wife  and  mother 
may  be  forgiven  and  redeemed,  in  s])ite  of 
all  the  obstacles  in  my  path,  the  good 
results  of  this  examjile  shall  entitle  it  to 
the  imitation  of  the  generous  and  the  com- 
mendation of  the  just.  There  are  many 
who  think  that  an  act  of  duty,  proceeding 
solely  from  affections  which  can  only  be 
comprehended  in  the  heart  of  a  husband 
and  a  father,  is  to  be  fatal  to  my  profes- 
sional, political,  and  social  standing.  If 
this  be  so,   then  so  be  it."     Mr,  Sickles 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


697 


concludes  his  manly  letter  by  asking  that 
the  mercy  of  all  may  be  extended  to  the 
youthful  and  penitent  mother  of  his  inno- 
cent child. 

Beautiful,  ruined,  and  sorrowing,  Mrs. 
Sickles  lived  but  a  few  years  after  the  ter- 
rible tragedy.     The  career  of  Mr.  Sickles, 


as  a  successful  Union  officer  in  the  war  of 
the  rebellion— rising  to  the  rank  of  major- 
general,  for  repeated  bravery  on  the  blood- 
iest battle-fields, — and  as  minister  to  the 
court  of  Madrid,  immediately  following 
the  flight  of  Queen  Isabella,  is  well  known 
to  his  countrymen. 


LXXXI. 
PETROLEUM    EXCITEMENT    IN   PENNSYLVANIA.— 1859. 


Discovery  of  Prodigious  Quantities  of  Illuminating  Oil  in  the  Depths  of  the  Earth. — Boring  of  Innu- 
merable Wells. — Fabulous  Prices  Paid  for  Lands. — Poor  Farmers  Become  Millionaires  — Tlie  Supply 
of  Oil  Exceeds  the  Wants  of  the  Whole  Country. — Immense  Exportations  of  the  Article. — Vast 
Source  of  National  Wealth  and  Industry. — Revolution  in  Artificial  Light. — Ancient  Knowledge  of 
this  Oil — Floating  on  Ponds  and  Creeks — Its  Collection  and  Use. — Native  Sources  :  Origin — Local- 
ity of  the  Springs — Great  Value  of  the  Oil — First  Attem.pt  at  Boring. — Plans  for  Sinking  Weils. — 
Their  Exhaustless  Yield — Intense  Excitement  Prevails — Kager  Crowds  at  the  Oil  Region. — Buying 
and  Leasing  Lands. — Enterprise  of  the  Pioneers. — Sudden  Fortunes  Made — Other  Side  of  the  Pic- 
ture.— Towns  and  Cities  Built. — Fire:  Awful  Scenes  and  Losses — Bringing  the  Oil  into  Market. — 
Its  Cheapness  and  Excellence. — Universal  Introduction. — Valuable  for  Various  Purposes. 


"  The  rock  poured  me  out  rivers  of  oil."— Job. 


PETEOLECM    WELL8. 


V\  ICHEE.  than  the  gold  mines  of  California,  in  the  qualities  of 
X\\        usefulness    and  convenience  to  the  human  race,  are  the  oil 

wells  Avhich,  so  unexpectedly  to  the  country 
and  the  world,  spouted  forth  their  liquid 
treasures  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  in  the 
year  1859,  and  in  such  quantities  as  soon  to 
revolutionize  both  the  material  and  mode  of 
artificial  illumination,  —  bringing  untold 
wealth  into  regions  hitherto  comparatively 
valueless, — creating,  almost  as  if  by  magic, 
new,  vast,  and  profitable  industries,  —  and 
well-nigh  realizing  the  wildest  conceptions  of 
sudden  and  golden  :tortune  found  in  Arabian 
legends. 
But,  even  long  prior  to  the  year  just  named,  the  existence  of  this 
oleaginous  substance  was  known  at  the  head-waters  of  the  Alleghany 
river  in  New  York  and  Pennsylvania.  A  writer  in  the  American 
Cyclopedia  states  that  the  Indians  collected  it  on  the  shores  of  Seneca 
lake,  and  it  was  sold  as  a  medicine  by  the  name  of  Seneca  or  Genesee  oil.  A  stream  in 
Alleghany  county.  New  York,  was  named  Oil  creek,  in  consequence  of  the  appearance 
of  oil  in  its  banks ;  and  the  same  name  was  given  to  another  branch  of  the  Alleghany 
river  in  Venango  county,  Pennsylvania.  Several  localities  are  designated  upon  the  old 
maps  of  this  part  of  the  country  as  affording  oil;  and  upon  Oil  creek  in  Venango 
county,  two  spots  were  particularly  noted,  one  of  which  was  close  to  the  north  line  of  the 
county,  and  one  about  twelve  miles  further  down  the  stream.     At  these  points,  springs 


GREAT  AND  INIEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


699 


issued  from  the  banks  of  the  stream,  bring- 
ing up  more  or  less  oil,  which  collected 
upon  the  surface  of  the  water  as  it  stood 
in  the  pools  below  the  springs.  The 
inhabitants  wore  accustomed  to  collect  the 
oil  by  spreading  woolen  cloths  upon  the 
water,  and  wringing  them  when  saturated. 
Down  the  valley  of  this  creek  there  are 
numerous  ancient  pits  which  appear  to 
have  been  excavated  for  the  purpose  of 
collecting  oil,  but  by  whom  made  no  one 
can  now  tell.  From  the  fact  that  logs  have 
been  found  in  them  notched  as  if  with  an 
axe,  some  have  supposed  that  the  work  was 
done  by  the  French,  who  occupied  this 
region  in  the  earl}'^  part  of  the  last  century  ; 
but  others  believe  that  the  Indians,  who 
are  known  to  have  valued  the  oil,  dug  the 
pits.  Day,  in  his  historj'-  of  Pennsylvania, 
gives  an  account  of  the  estimation  in  which 
they  held  this  product,  using  it  mixed  with 
paint  to  anoint  themselves  for  war,  and 
also  employing  it  in  their  religious  rites. 
He  quotes  an  interesting  letter  from  the 
commander  of  Fort  Duquesne  to  General 
Montcalm,  describing  an  assembly  of  the 
Indians  by  night  on  the  banks  of  the  creek, 
and  in  the  midst  of  the  ceremonies  their 
firing  the  scum  of  oil  that  had  collected 
upon  the  surface  of  the  water.  As  the 
flames  burst  forth,  illuminating  the  dark 
valley,  there  rose  from  the  Indians  around 
triumphant  shouts  that  made  the  hills 
re-echo  again. 

As  early  as  1826,  the  knowledge  that 
such  a  natural  illuminating  substance  ex- 
isted on  the  Little  Muskingum  river,  in 
Ohio,  was  quite  general,  on  account  of  its 
appearance  in  the  wells  that  were  bored  in 
that  region  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining 
salt.  In  a  communication  to  the  American 
Journal  of  Science  for  the  year  1826,  by 
Doctor  Hildreth,  he  says  :  They  have  sunk 
two  wells,  which  are  now  more  than  four 
hundred  feet  in  depth  ;  one  of  them  affords 
a  very  strong  and  pure  water,  but  not  in 
great  quanti^y.  The  other  discharges  such 
vast  quantities  of  petroleum,  or,  as  it  is 
vulgarly  called,  '  Seneka  oil,'  and  beside  is 
subject  to  such  tremendous  explosions  of 
gas  as  to  force  out  all  the  water  and  afford 


nothing  but  gas  for  several  days,  that  they 
make  but  little  or  no  salt.  Nevertheless, 
the  petroleum  affords  considerable  profit, 
and  is  beginning  to  be  in  demand  for  lamps 
in  workshops  and  manufactories.  It  affords 
a  brisk,  clear  light,  when  burnt  in  this  way, 
and  will  be  a  valuable  article  for  lighting 
the  street-lamps  in  the  future  cities  of 
Ohio. 

So  useful  was  the  product  of  the  oil 
springs  gradually  found  to  be,  that,  in 
1854,  the  Pennsyh^aniaRock  Oil  Company 
was  formed.  It  is  said,  by  a  writer 
thoroughly  conversant  with  the  subject, 
and  from  whose  well-stored  pamphlet, 
"The  Petroleum  Region  of  America," 
much  of  the  information  here  given  is 
drawn,  that  this  was  the  first  oil  company 
ever  formed,  and  was  also  prior  to  the  sink- 
ing of  any  well,  and  before  any  such  thing 
was  suggested.  Great  quantities  of  the 
oil  had,  however,  been  collected  during  the 
year  1853,  by  absorbing  it  in  blankets, 
and  wringing  it  out, — a  method  originated 
by  Dr.  F.  B.  Brewer,  of  the  eminent  firm 
of  Brewer,  Watson  &  Co.,  so  conspicuous 
in  their  efforts  to  develop  the  wonderful 
resources  of  the  oil  region.  The  Pennsyl- 
vania Rock  Oil  Company  purchased  one 
hundred  acres  of  land  on  Oil  Creek,  below 
Titusville,  for  the  purpose  of  collecting 
the  surface  oil,  but  the  project  was  in  a 
short  time  abandoned. 

No  important  progress  took  place  in  the 
business  until  the  winter  of  1857,  when 
Col.  E.  L.  Drake,  of  Connecticut,  arrived 
at  Titusville,  and  he  loas  the  first  man  tclio 
attempted  to  lore  for  oil.  In  December, 
1857,  he  visited  Titusville,  examined  the 
oil  springs,  and  gave  the  subject  of  sur- 
face oil  a  thorough  investigation.  He 
soon  concluded  that  rock  oil  could  be  ob- 
tained by  sinking  a  well ;  and  acting  upon 
this,  he,  in  company  with  James  M.  Town- 
send  and  E.  B.  Bowditch,  leased  the  lands 
of  the  Pennsylvania  Rock  Oil  Company, 
for  the  term  of  twenty-five  years,  for  the 
purpose  of  boring  for  oil.  The  operations 
were  to  commence  the  following  spring. 
Soon  after  closing  this  lease.  Colonel 
Drake  and  friends  from  Connecticut  formed 


700 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


a  company  called  the  Seneca  Oil  Compan}'^, 
for  the  purpose  of  working  the  lands  and 
sinking  wells,  under  the  management  and 
control  of  Colonel  Drake.  Early  in  the 
spring  he  remov-ed  his  tamily  to  Titusville, 
then  containing  not  over  one  hundred  and 
fifty  inhabitants.  He  first  informed  him- 
self thoroughly  on  the  subject  of  boring, 
and  visited  the  salt-wells  on  the  Alleghany 
river  for  that  purpose,  where,  after  some 
difficult}',  he  employed  a  man  who  agreed 
to  sink  wells  for  the  Seneca  company;  but 
he  and  others  to  whom  he  had  applied 
failed  to  keep  their  engagements,  and  it 
was  not  until  the  following  spring,  that  he 
could  obtain  a  suitable  person  to  commence 
the  well. 


lying  along  the  valley  of  Oil  Creek  and 
its  tributaries  in  Venango,  Warren,  and 
Crawford  counties.  The  Drake  well — tlie 
first  ever  sunk  for  oil,  and  the  first  petro- 
leum ever  obtained  by  boring — was  imme- 
diately thronged  with  visitors,  and  within 
two  or  three  weeks  thousands  began  to 
pour  in  from  the  neighboring  states. 
Everybody  was  eager  to  purchase  or  lease 
oil-lands  at  any  price  demanded.  Almost 
in  a  night,  a  wilderness  of  derricks  sprang 
up  and  covered  the  entire  bottom  lands  of 
Oil  Creek.  Merchants  abandoned  their 
storehouses,  farmers  dropped  their  ploughs, 
lawyers  deserted  their  offices,  and  preach- 
ers their  pulpits.  The  entire  western 
part  of  the  state,  in   especial,   became  so 


Boring 


PETROLEUM  WELLS 

through  forty-seven  feet  of 
gravel  and  twenty-two  feet  of  shale  rocks, 
with  occasional  small  apertures  in  it,  he 
struck,  on  the  twentj'-ninth  of  August, 
1859,  at  the  depth  of  about  sevent}^  feet, 
a  large  opening,  filled  with  coal  oil,  some- 
what mixed  with  water  and  gas.  A  small 
pump  on  hand  brouglit  up  from  four 
hundred  to  five  hundred  gallons  of  oil 
a  day.  An  explosion  soon  blew  it  up. 
One  of  three  times  its  size  and  power 
was  put  in  its  place,  and  during  the 
first  four  days  threw  up  five  thousand 
gallons  of  oil — one  thousand  two  hundred 
and  fifty  gallons  per  day,  or  one  gallon 
per  minute  for  twenty  hours  fifty  minutes 
per  day. 

And  now  commenced  an  intense  excite- 
ment in  all  the  oil-region  of  Pennsylvania, 


IN  PENNSYLVANIA. 

wild  with  excitement  upon  the  subject, 
that  scarcely  anything  else  was  thought  of. 
Very  soon  after  the  success  of  Colonel 
Drake,  Messrs.  Brewer,  Watson  &  Co. 
leased  the  farm  of  Hamilton  M'Clintock, 
and  commenced  a  well  on  it,  which  was 
successful  at  the  depth  of  seventy  feet; 
then  followed  the  sinking  of  many  Avells  on 
the  different  farms  on  Oil  Creek.  The 
Barnsdell  Mead  and  Rouse  well  was 
opened  in  the  spring  of  1860;  then  the 
Crosley  well,  in  April  of  the  same  j'ear. 
During  this  summer,  many  wells  were 
opened  in  the  vicinity  of  Tideoute  on  the 
Alleghany  river.  In  June,  1861,  A.  B. 
Funk  sunk  a  well  four  hundred  and  sev- 
enty feet  deep,  on  the  M'lllheny  farm, 
which  was  the  first  large  flowing  well. 
Then  followed  the  Brewer,  Watson  &  Co. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


701 


well  on  the  G.  "VV.  M'Clintock  farm,  the 
Phillips  well  on  the  Tarr  farm,  the  WillarJ 
well  on  the  H.  M'Clintock  farm,  and  the 
Rouse,  Mitchell,  and  Brown  well  on  the 
Buchanan  farm.  This  latter  well  flowed  a 
stream  of  oil  without  pumping,  equal  to 
one  thousand  barrels  per  day.  In  every 
direction,  new  borings  were  undertaken, 
and  new  discoveries  of  flowing  wells  were 
made,  almost  daily  ;  while  other  regions  of 
similar  geological  structure  were  carefully 
explored  for  evidence  of  their  capacity  for 
producing  oil.  Soon  there  were  oil-wells, 
— either  pumping  or  flowing,  —  yielding 
considerable  quantities,  in  Western  Vir- 
ginia, Kentucky,  Ohio,  and  Canada;  and, 
subsequently,  discoveries  were  made  of  the 
existence  of  petroleum  in  large  quantities 
in  California  and  in  some  of  the  north- 
western states.  At  first,  vast  quantities 
of  oil  flowed  into  the  creek 
and  were  wasted,  before  suit- 
able tanks  could  be  prepared 
to  receive  it ;  but  after  a 
while,  the  flowing  wells  were 
fitted  with  strong  tubing 
and  stop-cocks,  by  means  of 
which  the  supply  was  en- 
tirely controlled. 

As  might  well  be  expected,  the  owners 
of  farms  in  the  oil-regions  believed  that 
the  fortune  of  almost  unlimited  wealth  had 
now  smiled  upon  them,  and  (says  Eaton, 
in  his  exhaustive  and  invaluable  work  on 
the  subject,)  the  price  of  lands  throughout 
its  whole  extent,  from  the  new  well  to  the 
Alleghan}',  immediately  rose  to  a  very  high 
figure.  Sometimes  entire  farms  were  sold, 
but  generally  they  were  leased  in  quite 
small  lots.  The  terms  of  lease  were  at 
first  easy,  the  operators  giving  one-fourth 
or  one-fifth  of  the  oil  as  a  royalty  to  the 
owner  of  the  soil.  Gradually,  the  terms 
became  more  exacting,  until  not  unfre- 
quently  one-half  and  even  five-eighths  of 
the  oil  was  demanded,  with  the  addition  of 
a  considerable  sum  of  money  as  a  bonus. 
Sometimes  the  proprietor  of  the  soil  re- 
quired the  proposed  operator  to  furnish 
him  his  share  in  barrels  ;  that  is,  not  only 
turning  him  over  a  third  or  a  half  of  the 


oil,  but  furnishing  him  the  barrels  to  con- 
tain it.  With  this  arrangement,  it  after- 
wards came  about  that,  as  the  price  of  oil 
fell  and  the  price  of  barrels  advanced,  the 
entire  proceeds  of  some  wells  would  hardly 
purchase  barrels  to  contain  the  royalty 
share  pertaining  to  the  owner  of  the  land. 
The  leasing  of  land  for  oil  purposes 
amounted,  at  one  time,  to  a  monopoly,  in 


PBOCESS  OF  BOBIXG  FOR  PETKOLEUM. 

some  sections  of  the  oil  valley.  The  land- 
holders in  many  places  were  men  in  very 
moderate  circumstances.  By  great  fru- 
gality, they  had  been  able  to  live  comfort- 
ably, but  had  no  extra  means  with  which 
to  embark  in  speculations.  Sometimes 
they  had  neither  taste  nor  energy  for  this 
business,  or  lacked  faith  in  the  general 
result,  but  were  willing  that  others  should 
embark   in  the   business  by  sharing  the 


702 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


profits  with  them.  In  this  state  of  affairs, 
shrewd  and  enterprising  men  made  a  busi- 
ness, for  a  time,  of  leasing  all  the  lands  in 
certain  localities,  with  no  intention  of  oper- 
ating themselves,  but  with  the  design  of 
sub-leasing  to  real  operators. 

In  the  midst  of  the  excitement  occa- 
sioned by  the  prodigious  success  of  the 
Rouse  well,  the  gas  and  oil  issuing  there- 
from took  fire  from  some  unknown  cause, 
and,  as  described  by  an  unknown  witness, 
columns  of  black  smoke  rolled  upward  into 
the  air,  the  blazing  oil  leaped  heavenward, 
and,  falling  over  on  all  sides  from  the  fiery 
jet,  formed  a  magnificent  fountain  of  liquid 
fire.  The  sight  was  awfully  grand,  but, 
sad  to  relate,  involved  a  most  melancholy 
loss  of  life,  no  less  than  nineteen  human 
beings  meeting  their  death  in  the  flames. 
The  scenes  of  terror  and  woe  accompany- 
ing such  a  catastrophe  can  be  better  imag- 
ined than  described.  Among  the  victims 
of  this  destructive  occurrence  was  Mr. 
Rouse,  one  of  the  proprietors  of  the  well 
and  a  very  prominent  man  in  the  oil 
region.  Mr.  Rouse  lived  for  several  days 
after  being  injured,  and,  in  framing  his 
will,  after  making  certain  bequests,  left  to 
the  county  of  Warren  a  handsome  sum — 
subsequently  reaching  one  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  dollars  in  value,  —  to  be 
applied  one-half  for  road  purposes  and  one- 
half  to  the  poor  of  the  county. 

Other  terrible  scenes  caused  by  the  com- 
bustion of  the  oil  and  gas  in  the  wells, — 
of  natural  or  accidental  origin, — though 
happily  not  involving  loss  of  life,  have 
occurred  from  time  to  time  in  the  oil 
regions.  The  phenomenon  of  the  "  burn- 
ing well"  has  been  often  described  as  one 
of  those  grand  and  amazing  exhibitions  to 
be  found  only  within  the  arena  of  nature's 
kingdom.  Before  approaching  near  enough 
to  see  the  well,  (says  an  eye  witness,)  the 
observer's  ears  were  saluted  with  a  roaring 
sound  similar  to  that  of  the  Geysers  in 
Iceland,  and  seemingly  due  to  the  rush  of 
gas  from  the  depths  below,  or  from  the 
flame  itself  as  it  rises  high  in  the  air. 
The  well  was  of  course  bored  for  oil.  It 
had  reached  a  depth  of  some  five  hundred 


feet,  when  the  immense  column  of  gas 
rushed  up  and  became  ignited  from  the 
furnace  of  the  engine.  Soon,  of  course, 
the  derrick,  engine-house,  and  fixtures 
were  consumed,  and  the  engine  itself  a 
wreck.  An  attempt  was  made  to  fill  up 
the  pit  with  earth  and  extinguish  the 
flames.  But  this  proved  a  failure,  as  the 
pressure  of  the  gas  was  so  great  that  it 
rushed  through  the  loose  earth  in  a  thou- 
sand jets,  the  result  being  that  a  column 
of  flame  constantly  emei'ged  from  the  pit 
equal  to  its  size — about  eight  feet  square  ; 
this  column  rose  to  a  height  of  from  fifty 
to  one  hundred  feet,  varying  every  few 
seconds  from  the  minimum  to  the  maxi- 
mum height.  The  pillar,  rough  and  jagged 
in  form,  and  sometimes  divided,  sent  out 
its  tongues  of  flame  in  every  direction. 
As  it  reached  its  greatest  height,  the  top 
of  the  flame  leaped  off  and  was  extin- 
guished. This  was  the  appearance  in 
daylight.  At  night,  the  appearance  was 
awfully  grand  and  imposing.  Every  three 
or  four  seconds,  a  cloud  of  dark  smoke 
rolled  up  with  the  flames,  and,  after  being 
swept  to  its  very  summit,  disappeared. 
Some  visitors  computed  the  height  at  one 
hundred  and  fifty  feet.  The  roaring  sound 
was  constant,  and  almost  resembled  that 
of  distant  thunder.  Eor  successive  weeks, 
the  well  continued  to  burn,  with  no  appar- 
ent diminution  in  its  power,  or  in  the 
quantity  of  gas.  At  one  time,  the  phe- 
nomenon assumed  a  very  strange  appear- 
ance. The  atmosphere  was  somewhat 
cloudy,  and,  in  addition  to  the  usual  ruddy 
glow,  the  light  appeared  to  concentrate 
itself  into  a  bright  lance-like  figure,  about 
four  or  five  degrees  in  length,  that  re- 
mained stationary  about  midway  between 
the  horizon  and  the  zenith,  where  it  con- 
tinued all  the  evening.  Immense  destruc- 
tion of  oil  and  other  property,  by  tire,  has, 
in  fact,  taken  place  in  almost  every  part  of 
the  petroleum  region,  from  the  very  first, 
and  in  spite  of  every  precaution. 

The  next  large  flowing  well  that  was 
opened  was  the  Empire,  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  Funk  well,  that  flowed  three  thousand 
barrels  of  oil  per  day.     The  Sherman  well 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


703 


was  opened  in  April,  1862,  then  the  Noble 
and  Delameter  well  in  May,  1863.  This 
celebrated  well  was  commenced  in  1860, 
and  was  bored  to  the  depth  of  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty-seven  feet,  and  then  aban- 
doned. Mr.  Noble  went  further  down  the 
creek  and  became  interested  in  other  wells 
on  the  Tarr  farm,  but  in  the  spring  of 
1863  he  re-commenced  the  work  on  his  old 
well,  and  went  down  to  the  depth  of  four 
hundred  and  seventy-one  feet,  without, 
however,  any  indications  of  oil.  At  that 
depth  he  concluded  to  tube  and  pump, 
abandoning  the  idea  of  obtaining  a  flowing 
well, — but,  to  the  great  astonishment  of 
himself  and  every  one  else,  after  pumping 
a  very  short  time,  suddenly  the  great 
Noble  well  commenced  to  flow.  Long 
before  the  opening  of  this  Avell,  petroleum 
had  become  so  plenty  that  most  of  the 
pumping  wells  were  abandoned.  Every 
person  wanted  a  flowing  well. 

The  discovery  of  a  method  of  refining  the 
crude  oil  is  said  to  be  due  to  Mr.  Samuel 
M.  Kier,  of  Pittsburg.  IMr.W.  PI.  Abbott, 
of  Titusville,  erected  the  first  large  refin- 
ery at  Titusville,  which  was  before  the 
days  of  railroads  in  that  region.  The 
heavy  iron  castings  and  machinery  were 
brought  in  wagons  from  Union  Mills  and 
Eranklin,  through  mud  that  was  axle-deep. 
Parties  interested  with  him  became  dis- 
heartened, and  would  have  abandoned  the 
enterprise  had  it  not  been  for  the  energy 
of  Mr.  Abbott,  who  finally  succeeded  in 
completing  his  building.  But  the  really 
great  pioneers  in  the  introduction  of  jietro- 
leum  in  large  quantities,  were  Brewer, 
Watson  &  Co.,  whose  enterjjrise  was  so 
determined  and  untiring,  that  they  ex- 
pended nearly  eight  hundred  thousand 
dollars  in  cash  for  barrels  alone,  before 
they  realized  one  cent  of  profit.  All  they 
required  was  the  actual  cost  of  the  barrel. 
They  however  ultimately  reaped  a  rich 
harvest  from  their  arduous  efforts  in  this 
new  field  of  business,  and  were  handsomely 
repaid  for  the  hardships  and  trials  through 
which  they  had  passed.  During  the  sum- 
mer of  1861,  Samuel  Downer,  of  Boston, 
established  a  branch  of  his  works  and  com- 


menced the  refining  of  oil  at  Corry,  giving 
his  entire  attention  to  the  business,  and 
during  that  year  his  refinery  absorbed 
nearly  all  of  the  oil  product.  George  M. 
IMowbray,  agent  for  Scheifflin  &  Co.,  of 
New  York,  made  the  first  extensive  pur- 
chase of  petroleum  for  shipment.  Messrs. 
Drake,  Watson,  Brewer,  Kier,  Abbott, 
Mowbray,  Downer,  the  firm  of  Brewer, 
Watson  &  Co.,  and  others,  exerted  their 
utmost  endeavors  to  acquaint  the  public 
with  the  value  of  the  article,  and  to  create 
a  demand  equal  to  the  supply ;  but  before 
this  could  be  accomplished,  oil  at  the  wells 
was  offered  for  sale  at  prices  ranging  from 
ten  to  fifty  cents  a  barrel. 

In  consequence  of  the  abundant  supply 
of  the  oil,  its  cheapness,  and  the  continued 
small  demand,  the  entire  oil  regions  of 
Pennsj'lvania,  Virginia,  and  Ohio  became, 
for  a  while,  almost  wholly  deserted,  and 
the  then  so-called  "  oil  bubble  "  exploded. 
Most  of  those  who  had  taken  leases  and 
had  opened  wells,  now  removed  the  tubing, 
sold  their  engines,  tools,  etc.,  and  retired 
from  the  oil  trade  disgusted  with  their 
enterprise,  and,  no  doubt,  much  displeased 
with  themselves,  returned  to  their  deserted 
homes  to  be  ridiculed  by  the  knowing 
ones,  who  "always  said  the  undertaking 
would  prove  a  failure." 

Much  time,  however,  did  not  elapse 
before  a  new  demand  for  petroleum  was 
created,  and  once  more  thousands  poured 
into  the  oil  regions,  and  ultimately  the 
use  of  petroleum  became  almost  universal, 
as  a  cheap  and  excellent  oil  for  burning. 
So  vast  did  the  business  now  become,  that, 
from  the  third  of  March,  1865,  to  the  close 
of  that  year,  the  quantity  of  crude  petro- 
leum produced  in  the  Venango  county- 
region  was  1,020,126  barrels;  in  western 
Virginia,  13,666;  in  Ohio,  10,676;  in 
Kentucky,  2,405.  The  trade  involved  in 
this  immense  j^roduction  became  the  most 
important  business  of  several  cities  in 
Pennsylvania,  Ohio,  and  New  York,  af- 
fording employment  and  support  for  tens 
of  thousands  of  people. 

An  immense  export  trade  soon  began, 
amounting,    in    1863,    to    252,000    tons' 


704 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


BURNING  OF  ONE  OF  THE  GREAT  OIL  WELLS. 


weight,  or  28,000,000  gallons,  valued  at 
$12,000,000,  and  employing  no  less  than 
252  vessels  of  one  thousand  tons  burden. 
Of  course,  many  hitherto  comparatively 
poor  persons  became  millionaires  all  of  a 
sudden,  and  of  these,  "  some  were  wise  and 
some  foolish,"  in  the  use  of  their  wealth. 

An  illustration  of  the  latter  class  was 
that  of  a  widow,  whose  farm  proved  to  be 
one  of  the  earliest  and  best  for  the  produc- 
tion of  oil,  in  the  whole  county  of  Venango, 
several  wells  with  i)roducts  ranging  from 
two  hundred  to  twenty-five  hundred  bar- 
rels per  day  being  strucdc;  at  intervals,  and 
the  income  in  money  from  the  territory 
proving  almost  fabulous  in  amount.  The 
old  lady  did  not  live  long  to  enjoy  her 
good  fortune,  and,  dying,  left  her  great 
property,  without  any  reservation,  to  her 
adopted  son  John,  then  about  twenty  years 
old.  This  youth, — like  the  liero  of  that 
well-known  novel,  "Half  a  INIillion  of 
Mone}'^,"  who  came  suddenly  into  posses- 
sion of  a  like  sum, — had  not  been  taught 
to  understand  the  value  of  dollars  and 
cents  ;  and,  unlike  that  character,  ho  had 


no  refined  tastes,  and  threw  his  wealth 
away  with  the  most  lavish  folly.  Of 
course  he  rushed  to  New  York  ;  and  there, 
in  only  a  year  and  a  half,  he  squandered 
two  millions  of  dollars.  Presumably  the 
most  ingenious  extravagance  was  neces- 
sary to  accomplish  this  enormous  result. 
"Johnny,"  as  his  associates  called  him, 
not  only  entered  into  every  species  of 
debauchery,  not  only  lost  a  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars  in  two  nights  at  faro,  but 
bought  superb  teams  and  gave  them  away 
after  an  hour's  ownership,  supported  a 
swarm  of  human  leeches  of  both  sexes,  and 
even  equipped  a  negro-minstrel  troupe, 
presenting  each  member  with  a  costly  dia- 
mond ring  and  pin.  By-and-by,  however, 
Johnny's  brilliant  career  came  to  a  close, 
and,  oddly  enough,  ho  was  glad  at  last  to 
fill  the  position  of  door-keeper  to  the  trav- 
eling minstrel  company  which  his  own 
munificence  had  organized, — his  farm  on 
Oil  Creek  having  been  disposed  of  at  public 
sale,  for  arrears  due  the  government. 

Time    and   space   would   indeed   fail   to 
adequately  record  the  doings  of  those  sham 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


705 


and  reckless  companies,  which,  availing 
themselves  of  tlie  oleaginous  fever  and  a 
credulous  public,  involved  themselves  and 
others  in  operations  well-nigh  ruinous. 
One  of  these  companies  selected  a  site  in 
the  woods,  which  had  been  "prospected" 
by  one  of  their  number  and  highly  recom- 
mended (located  about  six  miles  from  a 
railroad  station  laid  down  on  the  map,  but 
not  yet  built),  and  having  organized, 
agreed  to  have  the  first  of  a  series  of  pro- 
posed wells  dug,  not  by  contract,  as  was 
usual,  but  b}'  day's  work.  Having  procured 
the  necessary  tools,  including  a  compass  for 
guidance  in  the  woods,  the  work  was  duly 
proceeded  with,  and  progress  from  time  to 
time  reported.  Calls  for  the  "  sinews " 
were  also  made,  and  promptly  met,  until 
the  well  was  said  to  be  down  over  one 
hundred  feet,  with  a  good  show  for  oil. 
This  was  about  the  time  for  the  "Annual 
Meeting,"  and  more  money  being  called 
for.  it  was  deemed  advisable  to  have  the 
well  re-fneasured  and  reported  on.  Judge 
of  the  surprise  of  the  stockholders  when, 
to  use  the  language  of  one  of  the  patri- 
archs in  oil,  tlte  force  of  the  oil  from  he- 
low  had  shoved  the  hole  up  to  eighty-six 
feet!  Here  was  a  stunner;  and,  as  the 
well  had  already  cost  a  good  round  sum, 
and  the  resources  of  the  company  were 
limited,  matters  continued  to  remain  in 
statu  quo.  The  most  plausible  plan  for 
getting  out  of  the  difficulty  was  that  which 
proposed  to  have  the  balance  of  the  hole 
taken  up  and  cut  into  lengths  for  pump 
logs  ! — a  fair  hit  at  many  of  the  chimerical 
oil  projects  of  that  day. 

Various  opinions  are  entertained  as  to 
the  origin  and  source  of  this  remarkable 
substance.  According  to  Professor  Silli- 
man,  it  is  of  vegetable  origin,  and  was  pro- 
duced by  the  agency  of  subterranean  heat. 
Professor  Dana  says  that  it  is  a  bitumin- 
ous liquid  resulting  from  the  decomposi- 
tion of  marine  or  land  plants,  mainly  the 
latter,  and  perhaps,  also,  of  some  non-nitro- 
genous animal  tissues.  By  many,  it  is 
supposed  to  be  a  product  of  coal ;  some 
supposing  that  the  coal,  being  subjected 
to  the  enormous  pressure  of  the  overlying 
45 


beds,  has  yielded  oil,  as  a  linseed  cake  under 
an  hydraulic  press.  The  theory  has  even 
been  advanced,  that  the  coal,  heated  (as  it 
evidently  has  been  in  the  coal  regions  of 
eastern  Pennsylvania),  gave  off  oily  vapors 
which,  rising  to  the  cold  region  of  the 
upper  air,  condensed,  and  subsequently 
fell  in  oily  showers,  making  its  way  as 
best  it  could  to  the  hollows  of  the  earth's 
interior,  where  now  it  is  found  by  the  oil- 
borer. 

An  extensive  survey  and  examination  of 
the  coal  region  by  Mr.  Ridgeway,  an  emi- 
nent geologist,  convinced  him  that  the 
petroleum  was  not  produced  from  the  coal 
fields,  as  in  that  case  it  would  have  had  to 
flow  up-hill  into  the  oil  basin  ;  it  is,  rather, 
the  result  of  the  decomposition  of  marine 
plants,  in  the  Oil  Creek  vallej',  though 
that  found  in  bituminous  coal  basins,  orig- 
inates, no  doubt,  from  beds  of  coal.  Ac- 
cording to  this  theory,  the  plants  which 
produced  the  oil  in  the  rock  existed  and 
flourished  at  a  long  period  of  time  before 
the  vegetation  which  now  forms  coal  beds  ; 
they  are  unlike  the  vegetable  impressions 
found  in  the  accompanying  shales  and 
clays  associated  with  beds  of  coal,  and  they 
grew  where  the  flag-stones  and  shales  of 
Oil  Creek  were  laid  down  by  salt  water 
currents.  The  climate  was  so  hot,  during 
this  age  of  marine  vegetation,  and  the 
growth  of  plants  so  rapid  and  rank,  caused 
by  the  supposed  large  amount  of  carbonic 
acid  and  hydrogen  then  composing  the 
atmosphere,  that  these  conditions  on  the 
face  of  the  earth  produced  plants  contain- 
ing more  hydrogen  and  less  carbon  than 
the  plants  which  produced  coal  beds,  and 
hence  their  fermentation  resulted  in  petro- 
leum. 

But  the  theory  that  the  oil  was  pro- 
duced at  the  time  of  the  original  bitumin- 
ization  of  the  animal  or  vegetable  matter, 
has  many  difficulties  in  its  way,  especially 
the  fact  that  such  large  quantities  of 
inflammable  gas  always  accompany  the  oil. 
That  the  oil  is  a  product,  not  of  coal,  but 
of  coral,  is  the  opinion  of  some ;  and  thus, 
stored  away  in  cells,  forming,  in  the  ag- 
gregate, immense  reefs,  as  it  was  collected 


706 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


from  the  impure  waters  of  the  early  oceans 
by  minute  coral  insects,  it  has  been  driven 
by  heat  and  pressure  into  reservoirs  and 
crevices,  where  man's  ingenuity  at  last 
discovered  it. 

Of  the  uses  of  petroleum,  much  might 
be  said.  Unrivaled  and  universal  for  illu- 
mination, it  is  also  valuable  as  a  lubrica- 
tor, and,  in  some  of  its  chemically  prepared 
states,  is   employed   as-  a  dryer  in  paints 


and  varnishes.  For  fuel  and  gas  its  util- 
ity has  been  amply  proved.  Medically,  it 
has  been  found  efficacious  in  suppurating 
wounds,  also  in  headache,  toothache,  swell- 
ings, rheumatism,  dislocations,  and  as  a 
dijsinfectant.  And  even  as  a  base  in  the 
production  of  colors,  some  of  the  most 
gratifying  results  have  followed  the  chem- 
ist's experiments  with  this  wonderful  ar- 
ticle. 


LXXXII. 

FATAL   DUEL  BETWEEN    HON.    D.    C.    BRODERICK,    AND 

HON.  D.  S.  TERRY.— 1859. 


Scene  of  the  Meeting  Near  San  Francisco. — Details  of  tlie  Barbarous  Encounter. — Broderick  Falls 
Mortally  Wounded  by  His  Adversary. — He  expires  in  Two  Days. — Flight  of  Terry. — Society 
Shocked  at  the  Event. — Parallel  Case  of  Messrs.  Graves  and  Cilley. — Politics  and  Dueling  in  Amer- 
ica.— Broderick's  Alleged  Offense. — Terry's  Challenge  Accepted. — Terms  of  the  Duel  — Choice  of 
Seconds  and  Arms. — Aspect  of  the  Two  Men. — Serious  Bearing  of  Broderick. — Terry's  Fearlessne>8. 
— Marking  the  Distance. — Its  Murderous  Shortness. — The  Duelists  Placed — Their  Persons  Kxam- 
ined  — "  Gentlemen,  are  you  Ready  ?  " — The  Word  Given. — Both  Parties  Fire. — Broderick  Shot  in 
the  Breast. — Last  Sufferings  and  End. — Sorrow  of  the  Community. — His  Body  Lies  in  State. — A 
Similar  Deed  of  Horror. — Congressional  Tragedy  in  1838. — Its  Deadly  Character. 


"  When  public  opinion  is  renovated,  and  chastened  by  reason,  religion,  and  humonity,  the  practice  of  dueling  will  at  once  be  discounte' 
honced."— IIenkv  Clay. 


^''%if 


OLITICAL  animosities  among  leading  public  men  in  the 
United  States  have,  in  a  multitude  of  instances,  led  to  premeditated  hostile  meetings, 
and  these  have  not  unfrequently  resulted  in  the  death  of  one  or  both  of  the  combat- 
ants. But  rarely,  since  the  tragical  encounter  between  Messrs.  Cilley  and  Graves, 
in  1838,  had  society  been  so  shocked  as  at  the  announcement  that,  on  the  thirteenth 
of  September,  1859,  a  duel  was  fouglit  near  San  Francisco,  between  Hon.  David 
C.  Broderick,  United  States  Senator  from  California,  and  Hon.  D.  S.  Terry,  chief 
justice  of  that  state,  in  which  Senator  Broderick  received  a  mortal  wound,  his  death 
occurring  two  days  after.  In  the  present  lamentable  case,  the  challenge  proceeded 
from  Judge  Terry,  who,  on  the  eighth  of  September,  addressed  a  note  to  Senator 
Broderick,  as  follows  : 

"  Some  two  months  since,  at  the  public  table  of  the  International  Hotel  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, you  saw  fit  to  indulge  in  certain  remarks  concerning  me,  which  were  offensive 
in  their  nature.  Before  I  had  heard  of  the  circumstance,  your  note  of  the  29th  of 
June,  addressed  to  Mr.  D.  W.  Perley,  in  which  j-ou  declared  that  you  would  not  respond 
to  any  call  of  a  personal  character  during  the  political  canvas  just  concluded,  had  been 
published.     I  have,  therefore,  not  been  permitted  to  take  any  notice  of  those  remarks 


708 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


until  the  expiration  of  the  limit  fixed  hy 
yourself.  I  now  take  the  earliest  oppor- 
tunity to  require  of  3'ou  a  retraction  of 
those  remarks.  This  note  will  be  handed 
to  you  by  my  friend.  Calhoun  Benham, 
Esq ,  who  is  acquainted  Avith  its  contents, 
and  will  receive  your  reply." 

The  correspondence  to  which  this  com- 
munication gave  rise,  finally  led  to  an 
agreement  for  a  hosti'e  meeting  between 
the  distinguished  parties,  the  terms  of  the 
duel,  as  arranged  by  the  seconds  of  the 
respective  gentlemen,  being  as  follows: 

1.  Principals  to  be  attended  by  two 
seconds  and  surgeon  each,  also  by  a  person 
to  load  the  weapons.  This  article  not  to 
exclude  the  drivers  of  the  vehicles.  If 
other  parties  obtrude,  the  time  and  place 
ma}'  be  changed  at  the  instance  of  either 
party. 

2.  Place  of  meeting,  on  the  farm  adjoin- 
ing the  Lake  House  ranch.  This  is  the 
general  neighborhood ;  the  precise  spot  to 
be  determined  when  the  parties  meet. 

3.  Weapons — dueling  pistols. 

4.  Distance,  ten  paces  ;  jiarties  facing 
each  other;  pistols  to  be  held  with  the 
muzzle  vertically  downward. 

5.  Word  to  be  given  as  follows,  to  wit : 
The  inquiry  shall  first  be  made,  "Gentle- 
men, are  3'ou  ready  ?  "  Upon  each  party 
replying  "ready,"  the  word  "fire"  shall 
be  given,  to  be  followed  by  the  words 
"one,  two."  Neither  party  to  raise  his 
pistol  before  the  word  "fire,"  nor  to  dis- 
charge it  after  the  word  "  two."  The 
intervals  between  the  words,  "Fire — one, 
two,"  to  be  exemplified  bj'  the  party  win- 
ning the  word  as  near  as  may  be. 

6.  The  weapons  to  be  loaded  on  the 
ground,  in  the  presence  of  a  second  of 
each  party. 

7.  Choice  of  position  and  the  giving  of 
the  word  to  be  determined  by  chance — 
throwing  up  a  coin,  as  usual. 

8.  Clioice  of  the  two  weapons  to  be 
determined  by  chance,  as  in  article  7th. 

9.  Choice  of  the  respective  weapons  of 
parties  to  be  determined  on  the  ground, 
by  throwing  up  a  coin,  as  usual — that  is 
to  say,  each  party  bringing  their  pistols, 


and  the  pair  to  be  used  to  be  determined 
by  chance,  as  in  article  7th. 

The  meeting  took  place,  as  appointed, 
on  Monday,  September  12th,  at  half-past 
five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  but  the  police 
interfered  and  arrested  the  principals. 

Next  morning,  however,  the  13th,  the 
parties  met  in  the  vicinity  of  San  Fran- 
cisco, unbeknown  to  the  police.  Terry 
was  seconded  by  Calhoun  Benham  and 
Thomas  Hayes.  Broderick  was  seconded 
by  the  Hon.  Joseph  McKibben,  member 
of  congress  from  California,  and  by  another 
gentleman. 

When  all  hands  arrived  on  the  ground, 
about  seventy  hands  were  found  to  be 
present,  including  the  principals.  Terry's 
seconds  and  advisors  were  constantly  with 
him,  and  he  conversed  with  his  friend 
Brooks  in  quite  a  lively  tone.  On  the  other 
hand,  Broderick  seemed  to  be  absorbed 
in  matters  disconnected  with  the  issue,  and 
was  talking  earnestly  with  a  couple  of  his 
friends.  During  this  time,  Broderick 
maintained  himself  cool  and  self-possessed; 
but  his  antagonist  seemed  agitated,  and 
measured  the  ground  in  his  direction  with 
an  uneasy  and  anxious  tread.  The  seconds 
approached  the  armorer,  examined  the 
weapons,  turned  several  times,  and  pointed 
to  the  white  mai-ks  that  had  been  })laoed 
on  the  field  to  establish  the  distance. 
McKibben,  in  examining  the  pistols, 
snapped  a  cap  with  an  air  of  satisfaction, 
as  if  the  pistol  suited  him.  Some  conver- 
sation was  had ;  one  of  Terry's  friends 
approached  him  and  made  some  remark, 
in  reply  to  which  Terry  seemed  to  smile, 
and  became  more  calm  than  before.  As 
the  affair  was  now  reaching  the  crisis, 
every  eye  was  turned  on  the  combatants. 

Mr.  Broderick's  friends  had  a  short  and 
earnest  conversation,  and  retired.  The 
friends  of  Terry  did  the  same  with  him, 
and  moved  to  one  side.  An  official  expres- 
sion now  notified  the  combatants  to  take 
their  relative  positions.  The  distance  was 
marked  white,  and  appeared  to  an  observer 
murderously  close, — more  than  one  man 
present  uttering  the  ejaculation  that  it 
was   downright   murder  to  allow  men  to 


GREAT  AND  :ME^rORABLE  EVENTS. 


709 


shoot  at  each  other  at  so  short  a  distance. 
The  principals,  liowever,  took  their  posi- 
tions. Broderick  divested  himself  first  of 
a  dark-brown  paletot,  and  cast  his  eye 
along  the  ground  separating  him  from 
Terry. 

A  close  observation  of  the  countenances 
of  the  two  combatants,  at  this  moment, 
revealed  in  a  striking  manner  their  indi- 
vidual characteristics.  Judge  Terry's  lips 
were  compressed,  his  countenance  darkly 
sallow,  and  his  whole  appearance  betrayed 
that  of  a  man  without  fear  and  regardless 
of  the  consequences  involved  in  so  grave 
a  transaction.  Wan  and  attenuated,  he 
stood  a  stolid  monument  on  the  field  of 
conflict.  Senator  Broderick  could  not 
have  been  distinguished  b}'^  the  stranger 
as  a  principal.  With  his  hands  folded 
behind  him,  he  held  earnest  conversation 
with  his  friend,  Mr.  Haskell.  He  would 
occasionally  turn,  scan  the  crowd,  and  rest 
his  eye  upon  some  recognized  countenance. 
The  muscles  of  his  face  were  strong,  and 
his  visage  unrelaxed  in  any  particular. 
His  lips,  when  not  conversing,  were  com- 
pressed, and  his  whole  bearing  was  that  of 
a  man  who  was  about  to  meet  a  great 
issue,  and  who  was  firmly-  prepared  for  it. 

Messrs.  Broderick  and  Terry  being 
divested  of  their  overcoats,  were  told  to 
take  a  vertical  position  by  Mr.  Benham. 
The  seconds  then  arranged  upon  the 
weapons,  and  Mr.  Benham,  taking  a  pistol, 
proceeded  to  Judge  Terry,  and  placed  it 
in  his  hand.  The  latter  took  the  pistol 
in  his  left  hand,  passed  it  behind  him, 
connected  both  hands,  stood  for  a  moment 
in  that  position,  and  then  rested  his 
weapon  on  his  left  hand  in  front.  Senator 
Broderick,  on  being  handed  the  pistol, 
anxiously  examined  it,  and  at  intervals 
measured  with  his  eye  the  ground  between 
himself  and  his  adversary.  He  seemed  to 
take  much  pains  in  examining  the  weapon. 
At  length  he  braced  himself  up  and  took 
his  position.  A  frock  coat  which  he  wore 
seemed  to  trouble  him  somewhat,  and  he 
endeavored  more  than  once  to  bring  the 
front  tails  closer.  Judge  Terry,  in  the 
meantime,  with  the  barrel  of  his   pistol  ' 


resting  on  his  left  arm,  held  his  eyes  fixed 
on  the  figure  of  his  antagonist. 

Before  the  word  was  given,  Mr.  Benham 
approached  Senator  Broderick,  who  had 
handed  his  watch,  money,  etc.,  to  Mr. 
McKibben,  and  felt  his  clothes  and  exam- 
ined with  his  hands  the  body  of  the  prin- 
cipal. A  nod  of  satisfaction  showed  that 
he  had  found  nothing  concealed  beneath 
his  vestments.  Mr.  McKibben  then  went 
toward  Judge  Terr}'.  The  latter  handed 
to  his  second,  Mr.  Benham,  a  watch, 
pocket  articles,  and  a  quantity  of  money. 
I\Ir.  Benham  took  the  watch  in  charge, 
but  the  mone}',  with  a  flourish,  he  scattered 
over  the  ground.  Mr.  McKibben  then 
examined    the    person    of    Judge    Terry, 


HON.   D.  O.   BRODERICK. 


expressed  liimself  satisfied,  and  took  a 
position  to  the  right  of  Senator  Broderick 
and  immediately  opposite  Mr.  Colton. 
The  seconds  of  Judge  Terrj'  occupied  sim- 
ilar positions,  with  Mr.  Benham  on  a  line 
with  Mr.  McKibben,  and  Mr.  Haj-es  on  a 
line  with  Mr.  Colton,  all  the  parties  form- 
ing a  sextangle. 

At  precisely  fifteen  minutes  to  seven 
o'clock,  as  the  sun  was  endeavoring  to 
force  his  beams  through  a  succession  of 
clouds  that  were  passing  north  and  south 
over  the  head  of  Senator  Broderick,^the 
solemn  moment,  on  which  all  were  satis- 
fied a  life  depended, — Mr.  Benham  gave  a 
rapid  glance  toward  the  skj-,  detected 
something  to  the  disadvantage  of  his 
principal,  and  approached  Judge  Terry. 
The  latter,  who  wore  a  large,  rather  stiff- 
brimmed  wool  hat,  had  drawn  the  front 
over  his  eyes.  After  his  second,  however, 
had  caught  his  ear,  the  front  was  turned 


710 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


up.  Mr.  Colton,  then,  in  a  clear,  distinct 
voice,  called  out  the  word  He  made  con- 
siderable pause  between  each  announce- 
ment— a  pause,  in  respect  to  time,  resem- 
bling that  which  elapses  between  the 
strokes  of  a  cathedral  clock  bell. 

Wlien  Mr.  Colton  asked,  "  Gentlemen, 
are  you  ready?''''  Judge  Terry  instantly 
replied,  *'  Ready,''^  without  moving  from 
his  position,  or  relaxing  a  muscle.  Sen- 
ator Broderick,  however,  spent  several 
seconds  examining  the  stock  of  his  pistol, 
which  did  not  seem  to  fit  his  hand.  When 
at  length  he  answered,  "  iiea<:/_j/,"  he  did 
so  with  a  gesture,  nodding  his  head  and 
inclining  his  body  toward  Mr.  Colton. 
Between  the  words,  "Fire  —  one  —  two," 
both  parties  shot.  Broderick  fired  first, 
and  at  about  the  last  enunciation  required 
to  convey  the  word  "  One."  Terry  shot 
in  a  space  of  time  afterward  which  it 
would  require  in  music  to  a  quaver.  The 
word  "  Two,"  was  scarcely  started  upon 
when  the  judge  fired.  The  senator's 
shot  was  spent  in  the  ground,  some  four 
or  five  feet  in  advance  of  his  right  toes. 
Judge  Terry's  took  effect  in  the  senator's 
riglit  breast,  above  the  nipjile. 

Immediately  upon  receiving  his  antago- 
nist's fire,  Broderick  raised  his  right  arm, 
still  grasping  the  pistol.  It  was  the 
impression  that  he  had  been  shot  in  the 
shoulder.  His  arm  contracted,  and  a  spas- 
modic effort  was  made  to  brace  himself 
up.  The  leaden  messenger,  however,  had 
gone  to  a  moi'e  sensitive  and  vital  part. 
After  endeavoring  to  summon  the  will  to 
resist  the  pressure  that  was  bearing  him 
down,  the  head  dropped  in  a  recumbent 
position  over  the  right  shoulder,  the  knees 
bent  outwardly,  and  at  length,  gently  and 
calmly  as  a  child  retiring  to  rest,  Senator 
l^roderick  eased  to  the  earth,  pressing  the 
riglit  breast  with  the  liand  still  holding 
tlie  pistol,  and  lying  on  his  left  side. 

Judge  Terr}',  in  the  meantime,  main- 
tained his  position,  keeping  his  eye  con- 
stantly in  the  direction  of  the  fallen  man. 
In  a  few  minutes,  he  was  told  that  his 
antagonist  could  not  rise,  and  he  there- 
upon   left    the    field   with    his  immediate 


friends.  He  drove  rapidly  into  town,  and 
started  at  once  from  North  Beach,  where 
a  boat  was  in  waiting,  and  pioceeded  to 
Oakland,  where  he  took  a  private  convey- 
ance to  Martinez,  and  thence  was  ferried 
across  to  Benicia.  Both  in  Martinez  and 
the  latter  place,  flags  were  raised  at  half- 
mast,  caused  hy  premature  reports  of 
Broderick's  death.  On  arriving  at  Beni- 
cia, Judge  Terry  took  overland  convey- 
ance to  Sacramento. 

Senator  Broderick  was  taken  to  the 
house  of  his  friend,  Leonidas  Haskell, 
Esq.,  at  Black  Point,  nearly  two  miles  from 
the  plaza,  and  was  seated  in  abed  with  his 
face  toward  the  bay,  and  propjied  up  with 
pillows.  Here,  physicians  attended  on 
him  during  the  day,  and  hundreds  of  the 
senator's  friends  hurried  out  to  learn  the 
worst.  There  appeared  little  hkelihood  (f 
his  recovering.  He  was  able  to  speak  dur- 
ing the  afternoon,  but,  owing  to  the  wound- 
ing of  his  lungs,  the  articulation  was  gen- 
erally indistinct  and  unintelligible.  The 
internal  bleeding  caused  liim  intense  pain 
and  a  suffocating  sensation. 

On  the  15th,  at  about  half-past  eight 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  Broderick  breathed 
his  last.  At  twelve  o'clock  the  night  pre- 
vious, the  indications  appeared  favorable 
for  his  recovery, —  his  repose  being  easier, 
his  breathing  more  regular,  and  his  gen- 
eral condition  imj)roved.  At  two  o'clock, 
in  the  morning,  a  change  occurred  for  the 
worse,  and  from  that  hour  he  failed  rapidly. 
At  three  o'clock,  the  last  rites  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church  were  adminis- 
tered to  him.  At  four  o'clock,  he  had 
fallen  into  a  state  of  insensibility,  from 
which  he  never  emerged.  He  never 
uttered  a  word  after  four  o'clock. 

On  the  following  Saturday,  the  lower 
part  of  the  Union  Hotel  was  thrown  open 
to  the  public,  and  all  day  a  vast  concourse 
thronged  in  to  view  the  body  of  the 
deceased  senator,  as  it  lay  in  state.  The 
corpse  was  placed  in  a  metallic  coffin,  in 
the  inner  apartment  of  the  hotel,  the 
approach  to  which  was  hung  with  Ameri- 
can flags.  The  outside  of  the  building 
was  draped  with  habiliments  of  woe,  and 


GREAT  AND  MEMOKAIJLE  EVENTS. 


711 


THE  BODY  OF  SENATOR  BRODERICK 

every  face  wore  that  unmistakable  expres- 
sion which  denotes  that  some  public 
calamity  has  fallen  upon  the  community. 
The  coffin  was  so  placed  that  the  moving 
throng  could  file  past  and  around  it  and 
out  through  another  door.  The  hands  of 
friends  had  wrought  wreaths  and  bouquets 
of  flowers,  with  which  the  coffin  was 
loaded,  and  so  numerous  at  last  did  these 
become,  that,  no  room  being  found  for 
them,  they  were  placed  on  the  floor  about 
the  bier.  The  corpse  was  dressed  in  a 
suit  of  black,  with  collar  and  neckcloth, 
the  hands  lying  along  the  sides,  crossed 
upon  the  body.  The  face  was  somewhat 
shrunken,  probably  from  the  intense  pain 
which  the  sufferer  had  undergone  during 
the  previous  three  days.  It  wore,  how- 
ever, the  same  expression  as  in  life,  and 
the  senator  might  almost  have  been  sup- 
posed to  be  in  a  deep  sleep,  so  calm  and 
natural  was  the  appearance  of  the  face. 
All  day  long,  the  crowd  pressed  in — men, 
women,  and  children  ;  slowly  they  passed 
round,  lingering  at  the  coffin,  and  gazing 
with  grief  and  reverence  upon  the  last 
spectacle. 

An  eloquent  funeral  oration  was   pro- 


LYING  IN  PTATE,    IN    SAN  FRANCISCO. 

nounced  by  Col.  E.  D.  Baker,  in  which 
the  speaker  narrated  his  last  conversation 
with  Senator  Broderick,  as  follows  : 

"  When  he  returned  frcm  that  fatal 
field,  while  the  dark  wing  of  the  arch- 
angel of  death  was  casting  its  shadows 
upon  his  brow,  his  greatest  anxiety  was 
as  to  the  performance  of  his  duty.  He 
felt  that  all  his  strength  and  all  his  life 
belonged  to  the  cause  to  which  he  had 
devoted  them.  '  Baker,' said  he  —  and  to 
me  they  were  his  last  words — ^  Baker, 
ivhen  I  ivas  stnuh,  I  tried  to  stand  firm, 
btit  the  How  blinded  me  and  I  could  not.^ 
I  trust  that  it  is  no  shame  to  my  manhood, 
that  tears  blinded  me  as  he  said  it.  Of 
his  last  hours  I  have  no  heart  to  speak. 
He  was  the  last  of  his  race;  there  was  no 
kindred  hand  to  smooth  his  couch  or  wipe 
the  death-damps  from  his  brow ;  but 
around  that  dying  bed  strong  men,  the 
friends  of  early  manhood,  the  devoted 
adherents  of  later  life,  bowed  in  irrepres- 
sible grief,  and  'lifted  up  their  voices  and 
wept.'  " 

Such  was  the  end  of  a  popular  senator 
from  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  the  new 
states  in  the  Union.     He  represented  the 


712 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


party  in  sympathy  with  the  Vigilance 
Committee,  and  of  free  soil  and  free  labor. 
Outspoken  in  his  views,  he  naturally  made 
political  enemies,  and  such  was  the  hostile 
determination  with  which  he  was  pursued, 
that,  even  had  he  escaped  unharmed  in 
his  encounter  with  Terry,  there  were 
others  ready  and  waiting  to  summon  him 
to  "  the  last  resort,"  and  his  fate  seemed 
inevitable.  In  this  respect,  his  case  pre- 
sents a  striking  resemblance  to  the  deadly 
tragedy  in  which  Hon.  Jonathan  Cilley, 
of  Maine,  lost  his  life  at  the  hands  of 
Hon.  W.  J.  Graves,  of  Kentucky,  in  a 
duel  fought  between  them,  February  24, 
1838.  Both  parties  were  members  of 
congress,  and  the  horrors  of  the  affair 
almost  stagger  belief. 

Mr.  Cilley,  in  debate  in  the  house,  had 
made  some  reflections  on  the  character  of 
Mr.  J.  W.  Webb,  editor  of  the  New  York 
Courier  and  Enquirer,  and  the  latter  there- 
upon sent  a  note  by  his  friend,  Mr. 
Graves,  demanding  an  explanation.  Mr. 
Cilley  declined  to  receive  the  note,  choos- 
ing not  to  be  drawn  into  any  controversy 
with  Webb,  but  at  the  same  time  express- 
ing his  high  resj)ect  for  Mr.  Graves. 
According,  however,  to  the  duelist's  hair- 
line theory  of  honor,  Mr.  Cilley's  refusal 
to  receive  the  note  from  Mr.  Graves,  was 
an  implied  reflection  upon  the  latter,  and, 
after  some  further  correspondence.  Graves 
sent  a  challenge  to  Cilley,  by  the  hand  of 
Henry  A.  Wise,  which  Cilley  accepted. 

The  parties  met,  by  arrangement,  on 
the  road  to  Marlborough,  in  Maryland. 
Mr.  Cilley  was  accompanied  by  his  second, 
Mr.  Jones;  by  Mr.  Bynum  and  Colonel 
Schaumburg,  as  his  friends ;  and  by  Doc- 
tor Duncan,  as  his  surgeon.  Mr.  Graves 
was  attended  by  Mr.  Wise,  as  his  second ; 
by  Senator  Crittenden  and  Mr.  INIenefee, 
as  his  friends;  and  by  Doctor  Foltz,  as 
his  surgeon.  Mr.  Jones  and  Mr.  Wise 
immediately  marked  off  the  ground.  The 
line  of  lire  was  at  right  angles  with  the 
rays  of  the  sun.  The  choice  of  positions 
fell  by  lot  to  Mr.  Wise,  and  Mr.  Jones 
had  the  giving  of  the  word.  Mr.  Wise 
chose  the  jjosition  at   the   north-westerly 


end  of  the  line.  The  distance  was  about 
ninety-two  yards.  There  was  a  strong 
wind  falling  on  the  line  of  fire  at  an 
angle  of  about  forty-five  degrees  against 
Mr.  Cilley. 

Mr.  Graves's  position  was  near  a  wood, 
partly  sheltered  by  it,  and  that  of  Mr. 
Cilley  was  on  higher  ground,  and  in  the 
open  fields.  The  caliber  of  Mr.  Graves's 
rifle  was  nearly  twice  as  large  as  that  of 
Mr.  Cilley's,  and  would  receive  a  ball  of 
about  eighty  to  the  pound,  while  the  rifle 
of  Mr.  Cilley  would  receive  a  ball  of  about 
one  hundred  and  thirty-two  to  the  pound. 
Mr.  Wise  had  two  rifles  on  the  ground, 
one  of  which,  not  being  loaded,  remained, 
by  consent,  in  one  of  the  carriages. 
Shortly  after  three  o'clock,  the  parties 
exchanged  shots.  Mr.  Cillej'  fired  first, 
before  he  had  fully  elevated  his  piece; 
and  Mr.  Graves  one  or  two  seconds  after- 
wards.    Both  missed. 

A  consultation  now  took  place  between 
the  friends  of  the  principals,  as  to 
whether  an  accommodation  might  not  be 
arrived  at,  but  Mr.  Graves  still  insisted 
upon  the  demand  made  b}-  him  ujion  Mr. 
Cilley,  and  the  latter  re-asserted  his  posi- 
tion in  the  matter  from  the  very  first, 
namely,  that  he  declined  to  receive  the 
note  of  Webb  because  he  chose  to  be 
drawn  into  no  controversy  with  him  — 
that  he  also  refused  to  disclaim  any  per- 
sonal exception  to  Webb  as  a  gentleman 
or  man  of  honor,  because  he  would  neither 
affirm  nor  deny  an^-thing  in  regard  to 
his  character  —  and  that,  in  declining  to 
receive  the  demand  of  explanation,  he  had 
intended  no  disrespect  to  Mr.  Graves. 

Under  these  circumstances,  the  chal- 
lenge was  renewed,  the  parties  resumed 
their  positions,  and  again  exchanged  shots. 
Mr.  Graves  fired  first,  before  he  had  fully 
elevated  his  piece;  ]\Ir.  Cilley  fired  about 
two  seconds  afterwards.  They  both  missed. 
It  was  at  first  thought  by  several  of  those 
present,  that  Mr.  Graves  was  hit  —  his 
motions  and  appearance  giving  this  impres- 
sion. But  he  at  once  said,  "  I  must  have 
another  shot," — and  this  he  positively, 
peremptorily,  and  repeatedly  insisted  upoii. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


713 


The  seconds  and  friends  again  con- 
sulted. Several  of  them  objected,  in  the 
strongest  language,  against  the  further 
prosecution  of  the  contest,  insisting  that 
it  sliould  now  cease,  and  that  Mr.  Graves 
should  declare  himself  satisfied.  Others, 
however,  particularly  Messrs.  Wise  and 
Menefee,  insisted  that  the  fight  should  go 
on,  unless  Mr.  Cilley  would  make  the  con- 
cessions demanded,  namely,  either  a  direct 
disavowal  of  any  personal  exception  to 
Webb  as  a  gentleman  and  a  man  of  honor 
—  or,  an  indirect  disclaimer,  by  basing 
his  refusal  to  receive  Webb's  note  upon 
the  ground  of  constitutional  exemption,  as 
a  member  of  the  house,  from  being  called 
to  account  for  words  spoken  in  debate. 
Mr.  Cilley  still  refused  to  yield  his  pre- 
rogative of  declining  to  receive  a  note 
from  Mr.  Webb,  if  he  saw  fit. 

Immediately  previous  to  the  last  ex- 
change of  shots,  Mr.  W^ise  said  to  Mr. 
Jones,  "If  this  matter  is  not  terminated 
b3'^  this  shot,  and  is  not  settled,  I  will  pro- 
pose to  shorten  the  distance."  To  this  Mr. 
Jones  replied,  "  After  this  shot,  without 
effect,  I  will  entertain  the  proposition." 
Mr.  Graves  had  directed  Mr.  Wise,  if  they 
missed  repeatedly,  to  prevent  a  prolonga- 
tion of  the  affair  by  proposing  closer 
quarters ;  and  in  consequence  of  this,  Mr. 
Wise  made  the  proposition,  which  would 
have  aggravated  the  severity  of  the  terms, 
and  made  the  barbarous  encounter  still 
more  a  disgrace  to  the  land. 

Again  the  blood-thirstiness  of  "  chival- 
rous honor "  demands  a  victim.  The 
rifles  being  loaded,  the  parties  resumed 
their  stations,  and  fired  the  third  time, 
very  nearly  together.  Mr.  Cilley  was 
shot  through  the  body.  He  dropped  his 
rifle,  beckoned  to  one  near  him,  and  sim- 
ply uttered  the  words,  "  I  am  shot,'''' — 
immediately  put  both  his  hands  to  his 
wound,  fell,  and  in  two  or  three  minutes 
expired. 

It  appears  from  the  report  made  by  the 
committee  of  seven  appointed  b}'^  the 
house  of  representatives  to  investigate 
this  affair,  that,  early  in  the  day  on  which 
Mr.  Cilley  met  his   unfortunate  end,  an 


agreement  was  entered  into  between  James 
Watson  Webb,  Daniel  Jackson,  and  Wil- 
liam II.  Morell,  to  arm  themselves,  repair 
to  the  room  of  Mr.  Cilley,  tmd  force  him 
to  fight  Webb  with  pistols  on  the  sjjot, 
or  to  pledge  his  word  of  honor  to  give 
Webb  a  meeting  before  he  did  Graves ; 
and  if  Mr.  Cilley  would  do  neither,  to 
sliatter  his  r'ujltt  arm. 

They  accordingly  took  measures  to 
ascertain  whether  Mr.  Cilley  was  at  his 
lodgings,  and  finding  that  he  was  not,  they 
proceeded,  well  armed,  to  Bladensburg, 
where  it  was  said  the  duel  between  Mr. 
Cilley  and  Mr.  Graves  was  to  take  place. 
Before  arriving  there,  it  was  agreed 
between  Webb,  Jackson,  and  Morell,  that 
Webb  should  approach  Mr.  Cilley,  claim 
the  quarrel,  insist  on  fighting  him,  and 
assure  him  if  he  aimed  his  rifle  at  Mr. 
Graves,  he  (Webb)  would  shoot  him  (Mr. 
Cilley)  on  the  spot.  It  was  supposed  by 
them  that  Mr.  Graves,  or  Mr.  Wise,  or 
some  of  the  party,  would  raise  a  weapon 
at  Webb,  whereupon  it  was  agreed  that 
Webb  should  instantly  shoot  Mr.  Cille}^, 
and  that  they  should  then  defend  them- 
selves in  the  best  way  they  could. 

Not  finding  the  Graves  and  Cilley  party 
at  Bladensburg,  Webb  and  his  comrades 
followed  in  pursuit  to  the  old  magazine, 
and  thence  to  the  shore  of  the  Potomac, 
near  the  arsenal,  at  Greenleaf  Point, 
whence,  it  being  after  three  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon,  they  returned  to  the  city  to 
await  the  result  of  the  duel.  ''  It  is 
unnecessary  to  add,"  sa^"^  they,  in  a  state- 
ment drawn  up  by  Webb,  signed  by  Jack- 
son and  Morell,  and  published  in  the  New 
York  Courier  and  Enquirer,  "  what  would 
have  been  the  course  of  Colonel  Webb,  if 
Mr.  Graves,  instead  of  Mr.  Cilley,  had 
been  injured.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  it 
was  sanctioned  by  us  ;  and  however  much 
we  deplore  it,  we  could  not  doubt  but  the 
extraordinary  position  in  which  he  would 
have  been  placed  would  have  warranted 
the  course  determined  upon."  It  is  diffi- 
cult to  imagine  what  is  here  darkly  shad- 
owed forth,  if  it  be  not  that,  had  Mr. 
Cilley   survived    the    encounter  with   Mr. 


714 


OUR  ymST  CENTURY.— 177G-187G. 


Graves,  and  had  the  latter  suffered  in  it, 
it  would  theu  have  been  the  fate  of  Mr. 
C'dleu  to  haoe  encountered  an  assassin. 

So  atrocious  was  the  course  pursued  by 
the  powerful  combination  against  Mr. 
Cilley,  th.it  the  report  of  the  congressional 
coiuinittee,  composed  of  members  of  both 
political  parties,  pronounced  it  to  be  with- 
OLit  any  circumstance  of  extenuation. 
Reciting  the  facts  involved,  the  committee 
state  that,  on  the  12th  of  Februar}',  Mr. 
Wise,  of  Virginia,  presented  to  the  house 
a  publication  in  the  New  York  Courier 
and  Enquirer,  charging  a  member  of  con- 
gress with  corruption  on  the  mere  authority 
of  an  anonymous  writer  under  the  signa- 
ture of  the  'Spy  in  Washington,'  and 
thereupon  moved  a  resolution  for  tlie 
appointment  of  a  select  committee,  with 
power  to  send  for  persons  and  papers  to 
inquire  into  the  charge.  Mr.  Wise  said  : 
"  The  character  of  the  authority  upon 
which  the  charge  is  made  is  vouched  for 
as  respectable  and  authentic  by  the  editor 
of  the  Courier  and  Enquirer,  in  whose 
paper  it  appears,  and  the  house  is  called 
upon  to  defend  its  honor  and  dignity 
against  the  charge."  Mr.  Cilley  opposed 
the  resolution,  and  in  the  course  of  the 
debate  said  : 

*He  knew  nothing  of  this  editor;  but 
if  it  was  the  same  editor  who  once  made 


grave  charges  against  an  institution  of 
this  country,  and  afterward  was  said  to 
have  received  facilities  to  the  amount  of 
$52,000  from  tlie  same  institution,  and 
then  gave  it  his  hearty  support,  he  did 
not  think  his  charges  were  entitled  to 
much  credit  in  an  American  congress.' 

These  words,  spoken  by  Mr.  Cillej'  in 
debate,  were  strictly  in  order,  were  perti- 
nent to  the  subject  under  discussion,  and 
did  not  exceed  the  bounds  and  limits  of 
his  place  and  duty;  and  though  they 
implicated  a  doubt  inconsistent  with  un- 
blemibhed  honor  and  character  in  the 
person  alluded  to,  yet  Mr.  Cilley  was 
justified  in  the  use  of  them  by  a  report  of 
a  committee  of  the  house,  appointed 
March  14,  1832,  to  inspect  the  books 
and  examine  into  the  proceedings  of  the 
Bank  of  the  United  States.  In  the 
majority  report  of  this  committee,  it  is 
stated  that,  for  sixteen  months,  the  New 
Y^ork  Courier  and  Enquirer  was  warmly 
opposed  to  the  Bank  of  the  United  States ; 
that  on  the  26th  of  March,  1831,  and 
within  less  than  nine  months  thereafter, 
the  bank  made  three  loans,  amounting  to 
the  sum  of  $52,975,  which  consisted  of 
notes  drawn  and  indorsed  by  the  editors 
only ;  and  that  on  or  about  the  8th  of  April, 
1831,  said  paper  changed  its  course  in 
favor  of  the  bank. 


LXXXIII. 

JOHN   BROWN'S    CAPTURE   OF   HARPER'S    FERRY, 

VA.— 1859. 


Seizure  and  Occupation  of  tlie  United  States  Armory. — A  Bold  Scheme  to  Free  the  Slaves  — Attacked 
by  tlie  Militia,  he  Hetreats  to  the  Engine  House  and  Makes  it  His  Fortress. — The  Building  is  Sur- 
rounded by  Federal  Troops  and  Forced  by  a  Battering  Kara — Brown,  Refusing  to  Surrender,  is 
Overpowered  and  Made  Prisoner. — His  Genuine  Heroism  on  the  Scaffold — A  Long  Cherished  Plan. 
— Conference  Held  in  Canada — Programme  of  Operations. — Harper's  Ferry  the  Strategic  Point. — 
First  Active  Movement  at  Nigiit. — Only  Twenty-two  Men  in  Force — The  Town  in  Brown's  Posses- 
sion— Straufje  Scenes  at  l^aybreak. — Indescribable  Consternation — Fighting  and  Bloodshed. — News 
of  the  Attack  Sent  Off — Military  Companies  Pour  in  — Marines  Sent  from  Washington. — No  Mercy 
Shown  the  Insurgents. — Brown  is  Terribly  Wounded — His  Indomitable  Fortitude. — Tried  for  Trea- 
son and  Murder — Conviction:  Speech  in  Court — Admiration  of  Him  by  His  Foes. — Walks  Fearless 
to  the  Gallows. — Mounts  the  Fatal  Platform. — "  I  am  Ready  at  any  Time  !  " 


"  Brown  is  as  brave  a  man  as  ever  headed  an  insurrection.    Ue  is  the  farthest  possible  remove  from  the  ordinary  ruffian,  fanatic,  or  mad- 
man."—Govekhok  Wise,  or  Vikgikia. 


:I 


^ "\ /"EARNING  for  an  opportunity  to  carry  out  his  long  cherished  desire  to  lib- 
erate the  negroes  of  the  south  and  destroy  the  system  of  American  slavery, 
Captain  John  Brown — or  "old  Osawatomie  Brown,"  as  he  was  famil- 
iarly called,  on  account  of  his  active  participation  in  the  hattle  fought 
at  Osawatomie,  Kansas, — had  disclosed  his  plans  to  a  few  confidential 
sympathizers,  durins:  a  conference  held  by  them  in  Chatham,  Canada, 

^-^  May  8th,  1858 ;  and,  selecting 
Harper's  Ferry,  Ya.,  as  the  most 
available  strategic  point,  struck 
the  first  blow  which  his  scheme 
contemplated,  Sunday  evening, 
October  16th,  1859.  Brown,  the 
leader  of  this  movement,  was 
about  sixty  years  of  age,  born  in 
Connecticut,  and  certainly  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  men  of  his 
times. 

By  the  conference  or  convention 

held  in    Canada,   a    "Provisional 

Constitution  and  Ordinances    for 

the  People  of  the  United  States" 

CAPTURE  OF  JOHN  BROWN.  was  formcd,  and  Brown  was  chosen 

commander-in-chief.     Shortly  afterward,  Brown,  with  two  of  his  sons,  appeared  in  the 

vicinity  of  Harper's  Ferry,  and  under  the  assumed  name  of  Smith  rented  a  small  farm 


716 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


in  Maryland,  a  few  miles  from  the  Ferry, 
for  the  purpose  of  making  the  necessary 
observations  and  maturing  their  plans  for 
the  final  movement.  Here  were  gradually 
collected  a  considerable  quantity  of  arms 
and  ammunition,  consisting  of  rifles,  pis- 
tols, pikes,  cartridges,  and  the  like ;  and  a 
body  of  twenty-two,  of  whom  seventeen 
were  whites  and  five  colored,  joined  him 
from  various  parts  of  the  country.  The 
resolute,  daring,  and  courageous  character 
of  Brown  was  well  calculated  to  constitute 
him  a  leader  in  such  an  enterprise,  and 
his  fighting  qualities  had  been  so  success- 
fully displayed  during  the  long  and  bloody 
contest  which  ended  in  making  Kansas  a 
free  state,  that  his  followers  looked  up  to 
him  as  a  hero,  "to  high  destiny  born." 

The  time  being  near  at  hand  when, 
according  to  the  programme  agreed  upon, 
they  were  to  arm  themselves  and  go  forth, 
Brown  made  an  address  to  them,  conclud- 
ing it  by  saying :  "  And  now,  gentlemen, 
let  me  press  this  one  thing  on  your  minds. 
You  all  know  how  dear  life  is  to  you,  and 
how  dear  your  lives  are  to  your  friends ; 
and,  in  remembering  that,  consider  that 
the  lives  of  others  are  as  dear  to  them  as 
yours  are  to  you.  Do  not,  therefore,  take 
the  life  of  any  one,  if  j'ou  can  possibly 
avoid  it ;  but,  if  it  is  necessary  to  take 
life  in  order  to  save  3'our  own,  then  make 
sure  work  of  it."  In  addition  to  the  small 
force  thus  employed  in  active  military 
duty,  there  were  others,  it  is  said,  to 
whom  was  assigned  the  task  of  cutting  the 
telegraph  wires  and  destroying  the  railway 
track,  at  the  proper  time,  and  who  subse- 
quently made  their  escape. 

It  was  now  about  ten  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  and  the  first  act  of  the  invasion 
was  to  be  performed.  William  William- 
son, the  watchman  on  the  Potomac  bridge, 
while  walking  across  the  ^Maryland  side, 
was  seized  and  made  prisoner.  Almost 
simultaneously  with  this,  the  government 
armory  buildings,  or  arsenal,  containing 
an  immense  quantity  of  arms,  were  quietly 
taken  possession  of.  Williamson,  on  being 
arrested,  recognized  Brown  and  Cook,  and 
knowing  them,  treated   the    matter    as    a 


joke,  but  was  not  long  in  learning  his 
mistake.  The  watchman  who  was  to  re- 
lieve Williamson  at  midnight  found  the 
bridge  lights  all  out,  and  Avas  at  once 
seized.  Supposing  it  an  attempt  at  rob- 
bery, he  broke  away,  and  managed  to 
escape. 

Shortly  after  midnight,  a  small  party  of 
the  invaders,  headed  by  Stevens,  proceeded 
to  the  house  of  Col.  Lewis  Washington,  a 
large  farmer  and  slave  owner,  roused  him 
from  his  bed,  and  told  him  he  was  their 
l^risoner ;  they  also  took  his  arms,  car- 
riage, etc.,  and  proclaimed  liberty  to  his 
slaves.  A  similar  visit  was  then  made  to 
the  house  of  Mr.  Alstadtt,  who,  with  his 
son,  was  captured,  and  freedom  given  to 
his  slaves.  On  entering  the  armory. 
Colonel  Washington  states  that  he  found 
some  eight  or  ten  persons,  who  recognized 
him.  They  all  sat  together,  and  were 
conversing,  when  Brown,  after  asking 
their  names,  said,  "  It  is  now  too  dark  to 
write,  but  when  it  is  sufficiently  light,  if 
you  have  not  paper  and  pens,  I  will  fur- 
nish 3"0U,  and  I  require  that  you  shall 
each  write  to  your  friends  to  send  a  negro 
man  apiece,  as  a  ransom."  To  all  of  the 
prisoners  who  inquired  as  to  the  object  of 
the  proceedings,  the  answer  was.  To  free 
tlie  slaves ;  and  to  the  question  by  what 
authority  it  was  done,  reply  was  made,  Bij 
the  authority  of  God  ALiniylitij.  These 
replies  fitly  represented  the  sentiment 
which,  from  first  to  last,  seemed  to  possess 
Brown's  mind. 

At  the  upper  end  of  the  town,  the  mail 
train  arrived  at  the  usual  hour,  but  was 
warned  not  to  proceed  over  the  bridge. 
After  some  hours'  detention,  the  train  was 
allowed  to  go  on,  but  not  until  great  alarm 
and  some  bloodshed  had  ensued.  A  col- 
ored man,  a  porter  employed  by  the  rail- 
road company,  refusing  to  surrender,  re- 
ceived a  mortal  wound.  Two  others, 
named  Turner  and  Boerly,  who  undertook 
a  forcible  interference  with  the  invaders, 
were  also  fatally  shot,  liut,  so  quietly  had 
matters,  for  the  most  part,  been  managed 
by  the  insurgents,  that  it  was  not  until 
daybreak,  that  the  town,  now  thoroughly 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


717 


waked  up,  found,  to  their  utter  astonish- 
ment, that  all  the  ai-mory  buildings  and 
premises  were  in  the  invaders'  hands,  that 
the  bridge  and  avenues  were  guarded  by 
armed  sentinels,  and  that  the  condition  of 
the  inhabitants  was  that  of  prisoners.  A 
panic,  of  course,  immediately  ensued.  In 
the  meantime,  a  number  of  workmen,  not 
knowing  the  actual  state  of  affairs,  ap- 
proached the  armory  and  were  successively 
taken  prisoners,  until  at  one  time  the 
number  thus  confined  was  not  less  than 
sixt}'.  But  efforts  were  made  by  some  of 
the  populace  to  shoot  the  insurgents,  and, 
in  this  attack,  Brown's  son  Watson  re- 
ceived a  mortal  wound.  A  number  of  cit- 
izens were  imprisoned  in  the  engine-house, 
which  Brown  afterward  made  his  chief 
fortress;  the  workmen  were  imprisoned  in 
a  large  building  further  down  the  yard. 


So  sudden  and  unaccountable  were  these 
proceedings,  to  the  people  of  the  town, 
that,  wonder-struck,  they  seized  such  arms 
as  they  could  find,  and,  gathering  them- 
selves in  small  bodies  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  town,  and  at  points  remote  from  the 
works,  assumed  the  best  attitude  of  de- 
fense possible.  But  all  was  confusion  and 
mystery.  Even  the  sight  of  several  armed 
negroes  among  the  strangers  did  not  at 
first  excite  suspicion  that  it  was  an  anti- 
slavery  movement,  and  the  report  of  one  of 
the  captured  slaves,  confirmatory  of  that 
fact,  was  received  with  incredulitj\  Some 
supposed  that  it  was  a  strike  among  the 
discontented  armorers  or  the  government 


laborers  ;  others  argued  that  it  was  a  band 
of  robbers,  organize<l  in  some  of  the  cities, 
})lundering  the  government  funds. 

Intelligence  of  the  affair  was  speedily 
communicated,  by  railroad  and  messenger, 
to  all  the  neighboring  towns,  and  military 
companies  soon  began  to  make  their  ap- 
pearance. At  about  noon,  some  Charles- 
town  troops,  commanded  by  Colonel  Bay- 
lor, crossed  the  Susquehanna  some  distance 
up,  and  marched  down  the  Mar3land  side 
to  the  mouth  of  the  bridge.  Firing  a 
voile}',  they  made  a  rapid  dash  across  the 
bridge,  clearing  it  of  the  invaders,  who 
retreated  down  toward  the  armory.  In 
this  movement,  one  of  the  insurgents  was 
killed,  and  another,  named  Thompson,  was 
made  prisoner.  During  the  rest  of  the 
day,  considerable  firing  took  place,  result- 
ing in  the  killing  and  wounding  of  sev- 
eral, including  Brown's  son  Oliver,  Kagi, 
Brown's  secretary  of  war,  and  Leeman, 
one  of  Brown's  captains.  A  stray  shot 
also  killed  Mr.  Beckham,  the  mayor  of  the 
town,  who  incautiously  exposed  himself  to 
the  running  fire  between  the  parties.  The 
death  of  Mr.  Beckham  so  exasperated  the 
populace,  that  they  immediately  raised  a 
cry  to  bring  out  the  prisoner,  Thompson, 
for  retaliation.  He  was  brought  out  on 
the  bridge,  and  there  shot  down.  He  fell 
into  the  water,  and  some  appearance  of 
life  still  remaining,  he  was  riddled  witli 
balls. 

From  Martinsburg,  a  considerable  force 
arrived  at  the  upper  end  of  the  tov>n,  and, 
entering  the  armory  grounds  by  the  rear, 
made  an  attack  from  that  side.  Dashing 
on,  firing,  and  cheering,  they  carried  the 
building  in  which  the  armory  men  were 
imprisoned,  and  released  the  whole  of 
them.  They  were,  however,  but  poorly 
armed,  and  when  they  came  within  range 
of  the  engine-house,  where  Brown  and  his 
particular  associates,  with  some  of  their 
prisoners,  had  gathered,  they  were  forced 
to  fall  back,  suffering  somewhat  severely-. 

At  Washington,  Baltimore,  and  Rich- 
mond, the  news  of  the  insurrection  pro- 
duced the  wildest  excitement,  and  a  move- 
ment  of    the    troops    instantly    ordered. 


718 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Col.  Robert  E.  Lee,  with  about  a  hundred 
United  States  marines,  and  two  field- 
pieces,  was  sent  from  Washington  to  the 
scene  of  action,  and  was  soon  in  possession 
of  the  armory  grounds,  in  close  proximity 
to  the  engine-house.  Early  the  next 
morning,  Lieut.  J.  E.  B.  Stuart,  aid  to 
Colonel  Lee,  advanced  to  parley  with  the 
besieged,  and,  on  being  received  at  the 
door,  demanded  an  unconditional  surren- 
der, only  promising  them  protection  from 
immediate  violence  and  a  trial  by  law. 
Captain  Brown  refused  all  terms  other 
than  these — that  they  should  be  permitted 
to  march  out  with  their  men  and  arms, 
taking  their  prisoners  with  them ;  that 
they  should  proceed  un pursued  to  the  toll- 
gate,  when  they  would  free  their  prison- 
ers ;  the  soldiers  would  then  be  permitted 
to  pursue  them,  and  they  would  fight  if 
they  could  not  escape.  This  was  refused, 
and  Lieutenant  Stuart  pressed  upon  Brown 
his  desperate  position,  and  urged  a  sur- 
render. The  expostulation  was  very  earn- 
est, and  the  interest  of  the  scene  became 
most  intense.  The  volunteers  were  ar- 
ranged all  around  the  building,  cutting  off 
an  escape  in  every  direction.  The  ma- 
rines, divided  in  two  squads,  were  ready 
for  a  dash  at  the  door. 

Finally,  having  exhausted  all  argument 
with  the  determined  Captain  Brown, 
Stuart  walked  slowly  from  the  door. 

Immediately,  the  signal  for  attack  was 
given,  and  the  marines,  headed  by  Colonel 
Harris  and  Lieutenant  Green,  advanced  in 
two  lines  on  each  side  o£  the  door.  Two 
powerful  fellows  sprang  between  the  lines, 
and  with  heavy  sledge  hammers  attempted 
to  batter  down  the  door.  The  door  swung 
and  swayed,  but  appeared  to  be  secured 
with  a  rope,  the  spring  of  which  deadened 
the  effect  of  the  blows.  Failing  thus,  they 
took  hold  of  a  ladder,  some  forty  feet  long, 
and,  advancing  at  a  run,  brought  it  with 
tremendous  effect  against  the  door.  At 
the  second  blow  it  gave  way,  one  leaf  fall- 
ing inward  in  a  slanting  position.  The 
marines  immediately  advanced  to  the 
breach.  Major  Russell  and  Lieutenant 
Green   leading.     A  marine  fell  in  front. 


The  firing  from  the  interior  was  rapid  and 
sharp.  They  fired  with  deliberate  aim, 
and  for  a  moment  the  resistance  was  seri- 
ous, and  desperate  enough  to  excite  the 
spectators  to  something  like  a  pitch  of 
frenzy.  The  next  moment,  the  marines 
poured  in,  the  firing  ceased,  and  the  work 
was  done,  while  cheers  rang  from  every 
side.  One  of  the  marines  and  one  of 
Brown's  men  fell  in  the  affray. 

One  of  the  government  officers,  as  soon 
as  he  saw  Brown,  although  the  latter  was 
unarmed,  struck  him  in  the  face  with  his 
saber,  which  instantly  knocked  him  down. 
The  blow  was  repeated  several  times,  and 
then  another  soldier  ran  a  bayonet  twice 
into  the  prostrate  body  of  the  old  man. 

When  the  insurgents  were  brought  out, 
they  were  greeted  with  execrations,  and 
only  the  precautions  that  had  been  taken 
preserved  them  from  immediate  execution. 
The  crowd,  nearly  every  man  of  which  car- 
ried a  gun,  swayed  with  tumultuous  ex- 
citement, and  cries  of  "Shoot  tliem!  Shoot 
them ! "  filled  the  air.  The  appearance, 
however,  of  the  liberated  prisoners,  all  of 
whom  had  escaped  injur}^,  changed  the 
current  of  feeling,  and  prolonged  huzzas 
took  the  place  of  howls  and  threats.  The 
lawn  in  front  of  the  engine-house,  after 
the  assault,  presented  a  dreadful  sight. 
Lying  on  it  were  the  bodies  of  the  two 
men  killed  on  the  previous  day,  and  found 
inside  the  house;  three  wounded  men,  one 
of  them  just  at  the  last  gasp  of  life,  and 
two  others  groaning  in  pain.  One  of 
the  dead  was  Brown's  son  Oliver.  The 
wounded  father  and  his  son  Watson  were 
lying  on  the  grass,  the  old  man  presenting 
a  gory  spectacle.  He  had  a  severe  bayonet 
wound  in  his  side,  and  his  face  and  hair 
were  clotted  with  blood. 

A  short  time  after  Captain  Brown  was 
brought  out,  he  revived,  and  talked  earn- 
estly to  those  about  him,  defending  his 
course,  and  avowing  that  he  had  done  onl}- 
what  was  right.  He  replied  to  questions 
substantially  as  follows: 

"Are  you  Captain  Brown,  of  Kansas?" 

"  I  am  sometimes  called  so." 

*'  Are  you  Osawatomie  Brown  ?  " 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


719 


"I  tried  to  do  my  duty  there." 
""What  was  your  i)resent  object?" 
"  To  free  the  slaves  from  bondage J^ 
''  Were    any   other   persons,  but    those 
with  you  now,  connected  with  the  move- 
ment ?  " 
'•No." 

"  Did  you  expect  aid  from  the  north  ?  " 
"No;  tliere  was  no  one  connected  with 
the   movement  hut  those  who  came  with 
me. 

'*  Did  you  expect  to  kill  people  in  order 
to  carry  3'our  point  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  wish  to  do  so,  but  you  force 
us  to  it." 


Virginia,  sufficient  to  take  possession  of 
both  states,  with  all  of  the  negroes  they 
could  capture,  lie  had  only  a  general 
idea  as  to  his  course;  it  was  to  be  gener- 
ally south-west,  through  Virginia,  varying 
as  circumstances  dictated  or  required. 

Of  Brown's  whole  band  of  twenty-two 
men,  ten  whites  and  three  negroes  were 
killed ;  three  whites,  two  of  them  severely 
wounded,  and  two  negroes,  were  taken 
prisoners  ;  and  four  escaped,  two  of  whom, 
Cook  and  Hazlitt,  were  subsequently  cap- 
tured. 

An  indictment  for  treason  and  murder 
was  immediately  found  against  Brown,  by 


harper's  ferry  and  the 

Brown  declared  that  he  had  the  town  at 
his  mercy ;  that  he  could  have  burned  it, 
and  murdered  the  inhabitants,  but  did  not ; 
he  had  treated  the  prisoners  with  courtesy, 
but  complained  that  he  himself  was  hunted 
down  like  a  beast.  He  expressed  a  desire 
to  live,  and  to  be  tried  by  his  countr3\  In 
his  pockets  nearly  three  hundred  dollars 
were  found  in  gold.  He  said  it  was  no 
part  of  his  purpose  to  seize  the  public  arms 
— he  had  army  and  ammunition  enough 
re-shipped  from  Kansas  ;  he  only  intended 
to  make  the  first  demonstration  at  this 
point,  when  he  expected  to  receive  a  rapid 
increase  of  the  allies  from  abolitionists 
settled  everywhere  through  Maryland  and 


arsenal  taken  by  brown. 

the  Virginia  authorities,  and,  until  the 
time  of  his  trial,  was  rigorously  impris- 
oned and  guarded.  In  his  personal  ap- 
pearance. Brown  was  a  stuall  man,  with 
white  head  and  beard,  and  cold-looking 
gray  eyes.  When  not  speaking,  his  lips 
were  compressed  in  such  a  manner  as 
showed  him  to  be  a  man  of  great  deter- 
mination. Of  his  bravery,  no  testimony 
could  be  more  emphatic  than  that  of  his 
opponents.  "They  are  mistaken" — said 
]\Ir.  Wise,  at  that  time  governor  of  Vir- 
ginia, "who  take  him  to  be  a  madman. 
He  is  a  bundle  of  the  best  nerves  I  ever 
saw,  cut  and  thrust,  and  bleeding  and  in 
bonds.     He   is   a   man  of  clear  head,  of 


720 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


courage  and  fortitufle,  and  simple  ingenu- 
ousness. He  id  cool,  collected,  and  indom- 
itable; and  inspired  me  ^Yith  great  trust 
in  his  integrity  as  a  man  of  trutli.  He  is 
as  brave  and  resolute  a  man  as  ever  headed 
an  insurrection.  He  has  coolness,  daring, 
persistency,  stoic  faith  and  patience,  and  a 
firmness  of  will  and  purpose  unconquera- 
ble. He  is  the  farthest  possible  remove 
from  the  ordinary  ruffian,  fanatic,  or  mad- 
man." Colonel  Washington,  also,  said 
that  Brown  was  the  coolest  man  he  ever 
saw  in  defying  death  and  danger.  With 
one  son  dead  by  his  side,  and  another  shot 
through,  he  felt  the  pulse  of  his  dying  son 
with  one  hand,  held  his  rifle  with  the 
other,  and  commanded  his  men  with  the 
utmost  composure,  encouraging  them  to  be 
firm,  and  to  sell  their  lives  as  dearly  as 
pf»ssible. 

As  the  prisoners  demanded  to  be  tried 
separately,  the  authorities  elected  to  try 
Brown  first.  He  asked  for  a  delay,  on 
account  of  his  severe  wounds ;  but  this 
was  refused,  and  the  case  commenced  on 
the  2Gth  of  October,  in  Charlestown,  Va. 
Brown  was  unable  to  sit,  and  lay  upon  a 
mattress.  The  trial  lasted  three  days,  and 
Brown  was  found  guilty  upon  all  the 
charges,  and  sentenced  to  be  executed  on 
the  2d  of  December.  As  the  jury  camo 
in,  with  their  verdict,  the  dense  crowd  of 
human  faces  was  moved  and  agitated  with 
intense  expectancy,  every  head  and  neck 
being  stretched  to  witness  the  closing  scene. 
The  only  calm  and  unruffled  countenance 
there,  was  that  of  the  doomed  one,  above 
whose  head  hung  the  sword  of  fate.  It 
was  late,  and  the  gas-lights  gave  an  almost 
deathly  pallor  to  his  face.  He  seated  him- 
self near  his  counsel,  and,  after  once  rest- 
ing his  head  upon  his  right  hand,  remained 
entirely  motionless.  On  being  asked  why 
sentence  should  not  be  passed  upon  him, 
he  rose  and  leaned  slightly  forward,  his 
hands  resting  on  the  table,  and,  in  a  voice 
singularly  mild  and  gentle,  said,  among 
other  things : 

"In  the  first  place,  I  deny  everything 
but  what  I  have  all  along  admitted — the 
desi(/?i  on  my  j^art  to  free  the  slaves.     I 


intended  certainly  to  have  made  a  clean 
thing  of  that  matter,  as  I  did  last  winter, 
when  I  went  into  Missouri,  and  there  took 
slaves  without  the  snapping  of  a  gun  on 
either  side,  moved  them  through  the  coun- 
try, and  finally  left  them  in  Canada.  I 
designed  to  have  done  the  same  thing 
again,  on  a  larger  scale.  That  was  all  I 
intended.  I  never  did  intend  murder,  or 
treason,  or  the  destruction  of  property,  or 
to  excite  or  incite  slaves  to  rebellion,  or  to 
make  insurrection. 

I  have  another  objection  ;  and  that  is,  it 
is  unjust  that  I  should  suffer  such  a  pen- 
alty. Had  I  interfered  in  the  manner 
which  I  admit,  and  which  I  admit  has 
been  fairly  proved  (for  I  admire  the  truth- 
fulness and  candor  of  the  greater  portion 
of  the  witnesses  who  have  testified  in  this 
case) — had  I  so  interfered  in  behalf  of 
the  rich,  the  powerful,  the  intelligent,  the 
so-called  great,  or  in  behalf  of  any  of  their 
friends,  either  father,  mother,  brother, 
sister,  wife,  or  children,  or  any  of  that 
class,  and  suffered  and  sacrificed  what  I 
have  in  this  interference,  it  would  have 
been  all  right,  and  every  man  in  this 
court  would  have  deemed  it  an  act  worthy 
of  reward  rather  than  punishment. 

This  court  acknowledges,  as  I  suppose, 
the  validity  of  the  Law  of  God.  I  see  a 
book  kissed  here  which  I  suppose  to  be 
the  Bible,  or,  at  least,  the  New  Testa- 
ment. That  teaches  me  that  'all  things 
whatsoever  I  would  that  men  should  do 
unto  me,  I  should  do  even  so  to  them.'  It 
teaches  me  further,  to  'remember  them 
that  are  in  bonds  as  bound  with  them.' 
I  endeavored  to  act  up  to  that  instruction. 
I  am  yet  too  young  to  understand  that  God 
is  any  respecter  of  persons.  I  believe  that 
to  have  interfered  as  I  have  done,  as  I 
have  always  freely  admitted  I  have  done, 
was  not  wrong,  but  right.  Now,  if  it  is 
deemed  necessary  that  I  should  forfeit  my 
life  for  the  furtherance  of  the  ends  of  jus- 
tice, and  mingle  my  blood  further  with  the 
blood  of  my  children,  and  with  the  blood  of 
millions  in  this  slave  country  whose  rights 
are  disregarded  by  wicked,  cruel,  and  unjust 
enactments — I  submit :  so  let  it  be  done." 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


721 


During  the  period  of  Brown's  imprison- 
ment, from  the  time  of  his  sentence  to  the 
day  of  his  execution,  he  was  occupied  in 
receiving  visitors  and  in  writing  to  his 
family  and  friends.  Letters  of  sympatliy 
poured  in  upon  liim ;  and  visitors  were  in 
constant  attendance,  including  editors, 
politicians,  and  other  persons  of  eminence. 
Clergymen  were  there  too,  some  of  whom 
offered  to  him  the  consolations  of  religion. 
But,  though  Brown  was  a  memher  of  the 
Congregational  or  Presbyterian  church, 
and  a  rigidly  religious  man,  he  strictly  and 
sternly  refused  to  be  aided  in  his  prayers 
by  the  pro-slavery  preachers  of  the  south, 
telling  them  to  go  home  and  read  their 
Bibles.  One  of  these  gentlemen  having 
called  to  pray  with  Brown,  was  asked  by 
the  latter  if  he  was  ready  to  fight,  if  neces- 
sity required  it,  for  the  freedom  of  the 
slave.  On  his  answering  in  the  negative, 
Brown  said  that  he  would  thank  him  to 
retire  from  his  cell,  —  that  his  prayers 
would  be  an  abomination  to  God.  To 
another  clergyman,  he  said  that  he  would 
not  insult  his  God  by  bowing  down  with 
any  one  who  had  the  blood  of  the  slave 
upon  his  skirts.  One  of  these  clerical 
callers  having  advanced  an  argument  in 
favor  of  slavery  as  it  existed  in  America, 
Brown  replied  in  such  a  manner  that  the 
reverend  gentleman  though  it  best  to  draw 
the  discussion  to  a  close,  and  therefore 
withdrew.     The  old  man  said  to  him — 

"  My  dear  sir,  you  know  nothing  about 
Christianity;  you  will  have  to  learn  the 
A  B  C's  in  the  lesson  of  Christianity,  as  I 
find  you  entirely  ignorant  of  the  meaning 
of  the  word.  I,  of  course,  respect  you  as  a 
gentleman,  but  it  is  as  a  heathen  gentle- 
man." 

The  day  appointed   for   the    execution 

having  arrived,  he  walked  out  of  the  jail 

with  a  radiant  countenance  and  the  step  of 

a  conqueror.     Firmly,   with    elastic  limb, 

he  moved  forward,  without  flinching.     As 

he  stepped  out  of  the  door,  a  black  woman, 

with  a  little  child  in  her  arms,  stood  near 

by.     He  paused  a  moment,  and,  stooping, 

kissed  the    child    with    great    tenderness. 

Another  black  woman,  Avith  a  child,  ex- 
46 


claimed,  as  he  passed  along,  "  God  bless 
you,  old  man !  I  wish  I  could  help  you ; 
but  I  can't."  As  he  looked  at  her,  he 
shed  a  tear  of  tender  emotion. 

With  an  unfaltering  step,  he  mounted 
the  wagon  which  was  to  convey  him  to  the 
scaffold,  seating  himself  beside  Captain 
Avis,  the  jailor,  and  Mr.  Saddler,  the  un- 
dertaker, both  of  whom  expressed  their 
admii'ation  of  the  old  man's  character. 
Accompanying  the  wagon  were  several 
military  companies,  mostly  cavalry.  Be- 
ing asked,  on  the  way,  if  he  felt  any  fear, 
he  said,  "I  can  endure  almost  anything 
but  parting  from  friends ;  that  is  very 
hard."  When  nearing  the  fatal  spot,  and 
being  inquired  of  as  to  how  he  would  be 
able  to  meet  such  a  fate,  he  replied,  "  It 
has  been  a  characteristic  of  me,  from  in- 
fancy, not  to  suffer  from  physical  fear.  I 
have  suffered  a  thousand  times  more  from 
bashfulness  than  from  fear."  Those  who 
were  near  the  old  man,  and  scrutinized  him 
closely,  state  that  he  seemed  to  take  in  the 
whole  scene  at  a  glance,  straightening 
himself  xip  proudly,  as  if  to  set  to  the  sol- 
diers an  example  of  a  soldier's  courage. 
The  only  motion  he  made,  bej^ond  a  sway- 
ing to  and  fro  of  his  body,  was  a  patting 
of  his  knees  with  his  hands,  the  same  as 
was  noticed  throughout  his  trial  and  while 
he  was  in  jail.  As  he  came  upon  an  emi- 
nence near  the  gallows,  he  cast  his  eye 
over  the  beautiful  landscape,  and  followed 
the  windings  of  the  Blue  Ridge  mountains 
in  the  distance.  He  looked  up  earnestly 
at  the  sun,  and  sky,  and  all  about,  and 
then  remarked — 

"  This  is  a  beautiful  country.  I  have 
not  cast  my  eyes  over  it  before — that  is, 
while  passing  through  the  field." 

"  Yes,"  was  the  sad  response  of  his 
friend  and  custodian.  Captain  Avis. 

"  You  are  a  game  man.  Captain  Brown," 
said  Mr.  Saddler. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  was  so  trained  up; 
it  was  one  of  the  lessons  of  my  mother  ; 
but  it  is  hard  to  part  from  friends,  though 
newly  made." 

"  You  are  more  cheerful  than  I  am. 
Captain  Brown,"  remarked  Mr.  Saddler. 


722 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


'•'  Yes,  I  ought  to  he !  "  was  the  heroic 
reply. 

Arrived  at  the  field  of  death,  he  looked 
at  the  assembled  concourse,  and  said — 

"I  see  no  citizens  here  —  where  are 
they  ?  " 

"  None  but  the  troops  are  allowed  to  be 
present,"  was  the  answer. 

"That  ought  not  to  be,"  said  he;  "citi- 
zens should  be  allowed  to  be  j)resent  as 
well  as  others." 

Descending  from  the  wagon,  he  said, 
"  Gentlemen,  good-bye  ;  "  and  then,  walk- 
ing firm  and  erect,  passing  through  the 
line  of  military,  and  close  to  jailors,  sher- 
iff, and  other  officers,  he  mounted  the 
scaffold  steps — the  first  man  that  stood  on 
it.  Calmly  and  manfully  he  surveyed  the 
scene,  amid  the  almost  breathless  mass  of 
armed  soldiery  that  surrounded  him.  With 
a  graceful  motion  of  his  pinioned  right  arm, 
he  took  the  slouched  hat  from  his  head,  and 
carelessly  cast  it  upon  the  platform  by  his 
side.  Every  one  within  view  was  greatly 
impressed  with  the  dignity  of  his  bearing  ; 
and  men  of  the  south  were  heard  to  say  that 
his  courageous  fortitude  and  insensibility 
to  fear  filled  them  with  amazement. 

The  hour  having  come,  he  said  to  Cap- 
tain Avis,  "  I  have  no  words  to  thank  you 
for  all  your  kindness  to  me." 

His  elbows  and  ankles  were  now  pin- 
ioned, a  white  cap  was  drawn  over  his 
eyes,  and  the  fatal  noose  was  adjusted 
around  his  bared  neck. 

"  Captain  Brown,"  said  the  sheriff,  "you 
are  not  standing  on  the  drop.  Will  you 
come  forward  ?  " 

"I  can't  see — you  must  lead  me,"  was 
his  firm  answer. 

The  sheriff  led  him  forward  to  the  cen- 
ter of  the  drop. 


"Shall  I  give  you  a  handkerchief," 
asked  the  sheriff,  "  and  let  you  drop  it  a? 
a  signal  ?  " 

"  No  ;  /  am  ready  at  any  time !  But 
do  not  keep  me  needlessly  waiting." 

At  last,  the  order  was  given,  the  rope 
was  cut  with  a  hatchet,  and  the  trap  fell. 
There  was  but  one  spasmodic  effort  of  the 
hands  to  clutch  at  the  neck,  but  for  nearly 
five  minutes  the  limbs  jerked  and  quiv- 
ered. He  seemed  to  retain  an  extraordi- 
nary hold  on  life.  After  the  body  had 
dangled  in  the  air  for  twenty  minutes,  it 
was  examined  by  the  surgeons  for  signs  of 
life.  They  lifted  up  the  once  strong  but 
now  powerless  arms,  and  placed  their  ears 
to  the  breast  of  the  corpse,  holding  it  steady 
by  passing  an  arm  around  it.  And  so  the 
body  dangled  and  swung  by  its  neck,  turn- 
ing to  this  side  and  that,  for  thirty-eight 
minutes,  when  it  was  cut  down,  and  put 
into  a  black  walnut  coffin.  In  due  time, 
the  body  was  conveyed  to  his  home  among 
the  mountains,  in  North  Elba,  N.  Y.,  an 
eloquent  eulogy  being  pronounced  by 
Wendell  Phillips,  at  the  place  of  burial. 

Cook,  Coppoc,  Copeland,  and  Green, 
Brown's  companions,  shared  his  fate  De- 
cember 16th ;  and  Stevens  and  Hazlitt, 
March  16th.  The  other  survivors  had 
managed  to  escape. 

And  thus,  with  these  sanguinary  scenes 
xx\)0\\  the  scaffold,  the  curtain  dropped 
upon  a  tragedy  which,  on  its  announce- 
ment, carried  terror  and  exasperation  to 
the  south,  and,  for  months,  filled  the  whole 
country  with  a  blaze  of  excitement, — a 
theme  of  wonder  in  every  mouth,  and  of 
heated  partisan  discussion,  pro  and  con,  in 
legislative  halls,  in  the  pulpit,  on  the 
political  platform,  and  in  the  columns  of 
the  universal  public  press. 


LXXXIY. 

FALL    OF    THE    GREAT    PEMBEETON   MILLS    IN   LAW- 

KENCE,    MASS.— 1860. 


Nearly  One  Thousand  Persons  Buried  in  the  Ruins— Multitudes,  Male  and  Female,  in  Youth  and 
Beauty,  Brouglit  in  a  Moment  to  Agony  and  Death  — Bursting  Forth  of  a  Sweeping  Conflagration. — 
Commingling  of  Horrible  Sights  and  Sounds  — Hair-breadtii  Escapes. — Three  Fair  and  Beautiful 
Corpses  Tiglit  Together. — The  Calamity  Instantaneous. — Sensations  of  the  Occupants — Two  Acres 
of  Ruins.— Flames  Suddenly  Belch  Forth. — Tiirilling  Cries,  Woeful  Scenes. — Efforts  to  Rescue  the 
Wounded.— Many  Left  to  Their  Fate.— Thousands  of  Excited  Visitors.— Sympathy  and  Relief.— A 
Room  Stored  with  the  Dead. — Wonderful  Escape  of  a  Young  Woman. — Astonishing  Presence  of 
Mind. — Female  Heroism  and  Devotion.— Tender  Girls  Struggling  in  the  Ruins — Despair  and  Sui- 
cide.— Ladies  Work  the  Fire  Engines. — Harrowing  and  Piteous  Appeals. — Cool  Pluck  of  an  Lish- 
man  — Reading  the  List  of  Victims — Touching  Request  of  a  Dying  Girl. — Endurance  and  Resigna- 
tion — Account  of  the  Avondale  Colliery  Disaster. 


"A  roar— a  cra-ih.  and  a  sudden  heave 

Of  every  storv  from  base  to  eave ! 

Tlie  pla»ter  sliiver'g  in  mastive  flakes. 

Each  Cflpenient,  lintel  and  door-post  quakes; 

Then  down— down— down  -down— 

With  tluinder  that  echoes  ihrough  all  the  town. 

Come  floor,  and  ceiling,  and  murderous  wall, 

In  one  vast  uvalunche,  burying  alll " 


THE  RESCUE. 


NPARALLELED  in  the  history  of  catastrophes  of  its  kind, 
was  the  destruction  of  the  great  Pemberton  Mills,  in  the 
city  of  Lawrence,  Mass.,  on  the  tenth  of  Januar}^,  1860. 
On  the  afternoon  of  that  day,  at  about  ten  minutes  before 
five  o'clock,  the  vast  and  towering  structure,  with  its  looms 
under  full  headway,  and  a  comi^any  of  nearly  one  thousand 
operatives,  suddenly  fell  in  ruins  to  the  ground,  producing 
a  scene  of  human  woe  beyond  the  power  of  pen  to  portray, 
and  casting  a  deep  gloom  over  the  whole  country. 

The  principal  building  was  two  hundred  and  eighty  feet 
long,  eighty-four  feet  wide,  and  five  stories   high,  with   an 
ell  six  stories  high,  eighty-four  feet  long,  and  thirty-seven 
feet  wide.     The  first  story  of  the  main  building  was  used 
for    weaving,   and  contained  four  hundred   looms.     The  second 
story  was  used  for  carding,  and  the  following  machinery  was  in 
operation,  viz. :  one  hundred  and  seventy-six  cards,  twenty-eight 
reeling  heads,  sixteen  drawing  frames,  eight  sh;bbers,  fourteen 
fly-frames,  and  four  card  grinders.     In  the  third  story  were  the 
twisting    and    spinning    machines,  viz.  :     seventy-nine  spinning 
frames,  with   one   hundred  and  sixty   spindles  each,  and  two  of 
Mason's  mules  of  six  hundred  and   eight  spindles  each.     The 


724 


OUK  FiltST  CENT  UEY.— 1776-1876. 


fourth  story  was  used  as  a  carding  and 
spinning  room,  and  had  in  it  forty  cards, 
three  reeling  heads,  four  drawing  frames, 
two  shibbers,  nine  fly  frames,  fourteen 
Sharp  and  Eoberts's  mules,  with  six  hun- 
dred and  seventy-two  spindles  each,  and 
twenty  drawing  frames.  The  fifth  story 
was  used  for  dressing,  warping,  spooling, 
winding,  grinding  and  reeling,  with  the 
following  number  of  machines,  viz  :  twenty 
dressers,  twenty -four  wai'pers,  nineteen 
winders,  eight  spoolers,  two  grinders,  and 
twenty-two  reels.  The  different  stories  of 
the  ell  were  used  for  packing,  finishing, 
reeling,  etc. 

The  whole  number  of  looms  in  the  mills 
was  six  hundred  and  fifty,  and  twenty- 
nine  thousand  spindles  were  in  use.  When 
the  mill  was  in  full  oj)eration,  the  amount 
of  cotton  warped  into  cloth  was  sixty  thou- 
sand pounds  per  week,  producing  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  yards.  The  driv- 
ing machinery  consisted  of  three  turbine 
wheels,  of  two  hundred  horse-power  each. 
The  building  was  heated  by  steam,  and 
the  boiler  used  for  generating  it  occupied 
a  small  building  by  itself.  Against  fire 
the  structure  was  well  protected,  there 
being  force  pumps  in  the  picker  house, 
which  was  located  in  the  rear  of  the  main 
building,  and  a  line  of  hose  running  from 
the  pumps  to  every  room  in  the  mill. 

While  the  men,  women,  and  children,  in 
numbers  sufficient  to  constitute  a  large 
village,  were  at  their  usual  work  in  the 
large  mill  where  the  manufacturing  opera- 
tions were  chiefly  carried  on, — with  no 
previous  warning — almost  in  an  instant — 
certainly  in  a  space  of  time  not  exceeding 
one  minute, — the  floors  of  this  husie  five- 
storied  pile  with  one  startling  crack  gave 
way,  the  walls  were  overthrown,  and  stone, 
bricks,  timber,  machinery,  and  this  great 
crowd  of  human  beings,  lay  in  one  con- 
fused mass  of  ruins.  A  few  hours  later, 
a  fire  broke  out  and  raged  fiercely  over  the 
shapeless  heap,  and  then  indeed  a  thrill  of 
horror  ran  through  the  stoutest  hearts,  as 
the  thousands,  working  with  almost  super- 
human effort  for  the  rescue  of  the  unfortu- 
nate victims,  were  successively  driven  off 


by  the  flames,  and  forced  to  abandon 
friends,  relatives,  and  neighbors,  to  their 
awful  fate.  It  was  naturally  supposed,  at 
first,  that  nothing  could  add  to  the  sights 
and  sounds  of  horror  produced  by  the  orig- 
inal calamity;  but  when,  as  the  night 
advanced,  the  terrible  cry  of  'Fire!  fire!' 
was  sounded  throughout  the  agonizing 
community,  the  effect  was  appalling.  On 
the  first  alarm  being  given,  that  the  mill 
had  fallen,  the  announcement  seemed  for 
a  moment  to  j^aralyze  every  one.  But 
active  sympathy  was  soon  developed,  and 
thousands  of  earnest,  energetic  men 
thronged  to  the  spot,  and  began  the  dan- 
gerous work  of  attempting  to  extricate  the 
buried  operatives  from  the  mass  of  ruins, 
which  were  spread  over  two  acres  of 
ground.  It  being  dark,  huge  bonfires 
were  kindled  all  around  the  ill-fated  local- 
ity, to  give  light  to  the  laborers  in  their 
work.  A  scene  of  more  thrilling,  fearful 
interest,  can  hardly  be  imagined,  and 
utterly  fails  of  description  ;  for  the  shrieks 
of  the  suffocating  and  mangled  creatures, 
so  harrowing  and  heart-rending,  were  re- 
echoed by  the  bystanders  who  stood 
around  in  thousands,  and  most  of  whom 
had  dear  relatives  or  friends,  helpless  and 
perhaps  dying,  within  hearing,  but  almost 
be3'ond  hope  of  succor. 

Every  engine  from  the  city  and  neigh- 
borhood was  on  the  spot,  and  streams  of 
water  at  once  flowed  copioush--  and  contin- 
uously, so  that  for  a  time  the  fire  seemed 
to  make  no  headway,  and  there  was  a  rea- 
sonable hope  that  it  would  be  immediately 
subdued;  but  soon,  in  spite  of  every  effort, 
the  flames  began  to  spread  with  steady  and 
irresistible  force,  until  the  whole  accumu- 
lation Avas  one  sea  of  blaze,  which  charred 
to  ashes  the  crushed  fragments  of  the 
building,  and  the  mangled,  screaming  suf- 
ferers buried  beneath.  From  nearlj'  every 
hole  and  crevice  in  the  vast  pile, — from 
the  top,  from  the  sides,  and  in  fact  from 
every  fissure  from  whence  a  voice  in  the 
inside  could  make  its  way, — came  shrieks 
for  help,  groans  of  anguish,  prayers  and 
moanings,  and  in  many,  very  many  cases, 
the  poor  sufferers  could  be  distinctly  seen, 


GREAT  AND  MEMOKABLE  EVENTS. 


725 


talked  to,  and  even  reached  by  the  hand 
from  the  outside.  Many  thus  imprisoned 
were  encouraged  and  sustained  by  assur- 
ances of  safety,  and  in  many  cases  cups  of 
coffee  couhl  be,  and  were,  passed  down  to 
those  below,  who,  alas !  after  all  this  near 
approach  to  safety,  saw  hour  after  hour 
pass  away,  until,  at  last,  the  frightful  cry 
of  fire,  and  the  greedy  progress  of  the 
flames,  as,  crackling  and  hissing,  they 
enveloped  with  fearful  rapidity  the  sur- 
rounding remains,  told  them  too  plainly 
that  all  hope  of  life  was  gone.  This  was 
strikingl}''  manifested  in  the  following  case, 
and  which  is  but  one  among  many  of  a 
similar  character:  A  citizen,  who  risked 
his  own  life  in  attempts  to  save  the  opera- 
tives from  the  burning  pile,  worked  his 
way  into  an  inner  apartment,  and,  looking 
through  a  hole  in  the  wall,  saw  two  men 
and  a  woman  walking  to  and  fro,  to  ap- 
pearance entirely  unharmed.  He  reached 
through,  and  took  them  by  the  hand,  and 
proceeded  with  vigorous  blows  to  malce  an 
opening  in  the  partition.  A  moment  too 
soon  the  flames  darted  up  where  he  stood. 
A  flood  of  water  poured  in  upon  it  totally 
blinded  him,  and  he  rushed  from  the 
place,  warned  by  the  engineer,  and  nar- 
rowly escaping  with  his  life.  Many  had 
thus  to  be  left  to  their  sad  and  inevitable 
fate. 

As  to  the  phenomenon  of  the  catastro- 
phe, at  the  actual  moment  when  the  mill 
fell,  one  of  the  male  operatives,  whose  life 
was  miraculously  saA'^ed,  states  that  he  was 
in  the  carding-room  in  the  second  stov}', 
lighting  up,  it  being  then  five  or  ten  min- 
utes before  five  o'clock ;  he  had  got  but  a 
few  burners  lighted,  Avhen,  suddenly,  a 
noise  was  heard,  which  sounded  like  a  loud 
thundering  crash  overhead,  and,  instantly 
looking  up,  the  shafting  was  seen  coming 
down  upon  the  whole  room.  Bewildered 
and  terrified  at  such  an  unaccountable 
spectacle,  he  stood  nailed  to  the  spot,  and 
did  not  seem  to  have  power  to  move, 
although  conscious  that  the  building  was 
coming  down.  Then  he  heard  the  over- 
seer shout,  and  tried  to  jump  out  of  the 
rubbish,  but  something   struck  him,  pro- 


KUINS  OF  PEMBERTON  MILLS. 


726 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ducing  insensibility;  he  did  not  remain  so 
long,  but,  on  coming  to,  found  himself 
buried  in  the  rubbish,  and  did  not  expect 
vto  get  out  of  its  depths  alive.  All  covered 
over  with  blood  from  wounds  in  the  face, 
he  finally  crawled  up  and  got  to  the  top, 
where  a  lot  of  ruins,  hanging  in  a  critical 
position,  threatened  instant  death  to  any 
one  who  should  disturb  them ;  he  however 
succeeded  in  working  his  way  through, 
passing  by  a  dead  girl  and  two  other  man- 
gled bodies,  before  getting  out. 

One  young  woman,  twenty  years  of  age, 
who  was  at  work  in  the  second  story, 
heard  the  crash  of  a  portion  of  the  build- 
ing, and  saw  portions  of  it  tumbling  down. 
She  immediately  started  in  an  opposite 
direction,  but  before  she  reached  this  point 
the  walls  were  crumbling,  and  death 
seemed  inevitable  the  next  moment.  Pan- 
ic-stricken, she  rushed  to  a  side  door,  and 
was  just  emerging  to  the  entry,  when, 
suddenly,  it  was  crushed  in.  She  recol- 
lected nothing  more  than  getting  through 
a  window  and  leaping  to  the  ground, 
wounded  and  unconscious.  Another  young 
woman  described  her  sensations  and  expe- 
rience in  a  similar  manner.  Unapprised 
of  the  fall  of  the  building  until  the  terri- 
ble reality  came  directly  upon  her,  she 
was  at  her  usual  work  in  the  third  story. 
She  only  knew  that  the  whole  flooring 
above  her  was  precipitated  upon  that  on 
which  she  stood,  accompanied  by  a  terrific 
noise.  She  was  crushed  beneath  some 
machinery  near  which  she  was  at  work, 
her  head  being  pressed  against  a  beam, 
seeming,  as  she  described  it,  as  if  her  head 
would  •'  split  in  two  at  every  moment." 
Her  lower  limbs  were  forced  in  one  direc- 
tion, her  arms  in  another.  But  one  arm 
could  bo  used  at  all.  Every  second  the 
heavy  weight  appeared  to  be  settling  closer 
and  closer  upon  her.  She  saw  nothing 
but  death  in  prospect;  and  with  feelings 
of  the  most  agonizing  nature,  she  prayed 
Ood  that  she  might  be  delivered  from  the 
impending  doom.  Hardly  had  she  ceased 
Tittering  this  prayer,  than  the  falling  of  a 
wall  in  a  distant  portion  of  tl;e  mill  re- 
leased her  from  the  imminent  and  deadly 


peril.  With  a  j^resence  of  mind  that 
exhibited  genuine  heroism,  she  struggled 
against  danger  and  death,  and  in  time 
reached  a  point  of  safety.  This  was  after 
being  in  the  ruins  for  upward  of  an  hour. 
Her  condition,  on  escaping,  was  most  piti- 
able, being  hardly  able  to  turn  her  body 
upon  her  bed. 

By  one  o'clock,  there  was  nothing  to  be 
seen  but  a  broad  area  of  black  smoking 
ruins.  The  water-works  connected  with 
the  mill  were  rendered  useless  by  the 
destruction  of  the  building,  still  there  was 
a  large  amount  of  water  poured  upon  the 
fire  from  various  sources.  But  though  the 
ruins  were  thus  deluged  with  water,  the 
presence  of  cotton  waste  saturated  with 
oil,  the  floors  rendered  combustible  by  the 
dripping  oil  from  the  machinery,  and, 
above  all,  the  depth  at  which  the  fire 
originated  and  burned,  rendered  it  difficult 
to  extinguish,  and  so,  until  morning 
dawned,  the  smoke  and  half-smothered 
fire  still  rose  from  the  funeral  pile. 

Scarcely  had  it  become  known  that  the 
appalling  accident  had  happened,  and  that 
the  material  comforts  of  life  were  needed 
by  the  victims,  than  evidences  were  given 
of  the  wide-spread  s^'mi^athy  which  the 
calamity  had  awakened  throughout  the 
country.  Three  thousand  persons  were 
dependent  on  nine  hundred  for  their  sup- 
port, who  were  out  of  employment ;  chil- 
dren had  lost  their  j^arents,  brothers  and 
sisters  who  had  been  dependent  upon  each 
other  had  become  separated,  and  aged  and 
infirm  parents,  who  depended  upon  their 
children,  were  rendered  childless.  All 
this  demanded  speedy  relief,  and  an  ajipeal 
being  made  by  the  mayor  to  those  who 
possessed  the  means  to  give,  tens  of  thou- 
sands of  dollars  flowed  in  from  the  pockets 
of  the  benevolent  for  the  relief  of  the 
needy.  But  the  great  subject  of  excite- 
ment and  effort  centered  in  the  blackened 
heap  of  ruins  and  the  rescue  and  care  of 
the  victims  buried  beneath.  The  city  hall 
having  been  converted  into  a  temporary'' 
hospital,  mattresses,  blankets  and  sheets, 
bandages,  cordials  and  medicines,  were 
sent  in  from  every  direction.     The  ladies 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


727 


of  the  vicinity  promptly  contributed  beds 
and  blankets,  and  the  druggists  supplied 
profusely  from  the  contents  of  their  stores. 
The  settees  were  cleared  from  the  floor, 
and  in  their  place  were  arranged  rows  of 
mattresses,  in  close  proximity  on  thi-ee 
sides  of  the  hall.  The  platform  at  the 
head  of  the  hall  was  used  as  a  dispensary. 
At  half  an  hour  past  midnight,  scarcely  a 
mattress  was  untenanted,  and  the  groans 
of  the  wounded  —  many  of  them  being 
youthful  women  of  fairest  form  and  beauty, 
— mingled  with  the  heart-rending  cries  of 
relatives  and  friends.  A  large  number  of 
physicians  were  in  attendance  on  the  suf- 
fering and  dying,  while  others,  exhausted 
with  continual  watching,  working  and 
waiting,  over  broken  limbs  and  bruised 
bodies,  lay  down  in  some  vacant  spot  for  a 
brief  rest,  and  then  to  resume  their  hu- 
mane labors. 

In  one  corner  of  the  hall,  was  a  large 
room  which  had  been  set  apart  for  the 
reception  of  the  unrecognized  dead.  This 
room  was  literally  covered  with  mangled 
corpses, — bodies  of  men,  women,  youth, 
and  children,  hideously  mutilated, — in  just 
the  condition  they  exhibited  when  taken 
from  the  ruins,  being  mostly  naked,  and 
covered  with  blood  or  begrimmed  with 
smoke  and  dirt.  It  was,  however,  scarcely 
possible  not  to  envy  the  lot  of  these,  thus 
reposing  in  the  calmness  of  death,  com- 
pared with  those  near  by,  shattered,  bleed- 
ing, hopeless.  Some  of  the  latter  were 
groaning  in  agony,  some  were  wild  with 
pain  to  their  last  moment ;  others  quietly 
breathed  their  last,  or  bore  their  sufferings 
in  silence.  Everywhere  were  blood,  bruises, 
and  broken  limbs.  To  one  unacquainted 
with  the  scenes  of  the  dead-house  or  the 
hospital,  the  spectacle  was  loathsome,  sick- 
ening, horrible. 

From  all  the  adjoining  towns,  and  in- 
deed from  all  sections,  a  sympathizing 
population  flowed  in  to  the  afflicted  city. 
Each  arriving  train  brought  crowds  of 
anxious  visitors,  who  gathered  to  gaze  in 
wonder  upon  the  awful  disaster,  until  the 
bridge,  the  ice-bound  canal,  and  the  street 
that  overlooked  it,  were  thronged  with  a 


living  mass  of  human  beings,  pressing  as 
close  to  the  ruins  as  the  heat  of  the  still 
smoking  pile  would  allow.  Gradually,  as 
the  ruins  became  cool  enough,  the  work- 
men resumed  the  search  for  dead  bodie.'^, 
energetically  ai)i)lying  themselves  to  the 
sad  task,  being  spurred  on  by  intense  anx- 
iety and  woe,  tempered  with  the  hope  of 
finding  at  last  the  precious  remains  sought 
for.  A  cold  drizzling  rain  now  set  in, 
which  finally  changed  to  snow.  Derricks 
were  now  raised  to  hoist  the  heavy  masses 
of  machinery,  and  from  this  time  to  the 
close  of  the  week,  bodies  were  almost 
hourly  recovered  and  conveyed  to  the  dead- 
room.  Some  were  found  in  nearly  a  per- 
fect state,  and  were  easily  recognized ; 
others  were  mutilated  and  disfigured,  and 
could  only  be  identified  by  fragments  of 
clothing.  It  deserves  here  to  be  men- 
tioned, that  when  the  firemen  became 
exhausted,  a  large  number  of  ladies  at 
once  volunteered  and  manned  the  brakes 
of  the  engines,  doing  good  service  in  this 
capacity. 

The  incidents  of  suffering,  heroism, 
hairbreadth  escapes,  and  personal  experi- 
ences of  one  kind  and  another,  connected 
with  this  fearful  tragedy,  would  well-nigh 
fill  a  volume.  A  few  only  can  here  be 
given,  but  these  will  amply  depicture  to 
the  mind  the  diversified  horrors  of  the 
calamity. 

Of  female  courage,  one  instance  in  espe- 
cial will  never  be  forgotten.  At  a  partic- 
ular point,  when  a  rope  had  been  fixed  to  a 
projecting  timber,  a  call  was  made  to  the 
crowd  to  take  hold  and  pull  with  a  will, 
but  for  a  few  minutes,  such  was  the  dan- 
ger of  the  attempt — for  the  beam  in  fall- 
in^y  might  engulf  all  who  were  near  it — 
the  call  was  unheeded.  Men  shuddered 
and  drew  back ;  they  would  risk  much  to 
aid  those  below,  but  life  was  sweet,  and 
the  peril  great.  At  this  critical  juncture, 
a  woman  rushed  from  among  the  crowd, 
and  daring  the  spectators  to  follow,  seized 
the  rope  and  attempted  to  mount  the  pile 
of  smouldering  ruins  to  clear  away  with  her 
own  hands.  Toe  example  was  enough ; 
not  a  woi-d  was  said,  but  strong  hands  at 


728 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


once  drew  her  back,  and  then  there  was  no 
hick  of  force  at  the  rope,  the  beam  was 
drawn  out,  and  at  least  two  sufferers  re- 
leased through  the  opening  thus  made. 

Among  the  sufferers  in  the  ruins  at  the 
time  the  fire  broke  out,  was  one  of  the 
overseers,  a  man  much  beloved  by  all  who 
knew  him,  and  whose  voice  was  distinctly 
heard  while  the  digging  was  going  on. 
He  was  nearly  reached  when  the  flames 
broke  out.  Seeing  his  situation,  he  im- 
plored his  friends  to  save  him  quickly  or 
he  should  die,  and  though  they  struggled 
to  reach  him,  the  flames  swept  around  and 
baffled  every  effort.  Being  confined,  he 
could  do  nothing  to  resist  the  fire,  and  as 
its  heat  increased  every  moment,  his  hor- 
rible death  seemed  inevitable.  He  was 
able  to  move  one  hand,  and,  drawing  his 
knife,  said  he  should  commit  suicide  rather 
than  burn  to  death.  His  rescuers  pressed 
on,  but  all  hope  of  aid  gave  out,  and  he 
drew  the  knife  across  his  throat.  Soon 
after,  they  succeeded  in  removing  him, 
still  alive,  to  the  city  hall,  but  he  expired 
shortly  after. 

Every  effort  which  humanity  and  inge- 
nuity could  devise  was  put  into  operation. 
By  means  of  ropes,  bars,  and  other  con- 
trivances, some  scores  of  persons  were  at 
once  taken  out,  more  or  less  wounded,  and 
their  lives  thus  fortunately  preserved. 
])esides  those  thus  saved,  a  large  number 
of  oj)eratives,  mostly  males,  who  were  in 
tlie  weaving-room,  which  was  in  the  lower 
story,  managed  to  escape  by  crawling  up 
from  that  room  through  a  couple  of  low 
windows  which  were  not  obstructed.  The 
weaving-room  was  partially  saved  by  a 
heavy  stone  floor  of  the  story  above,  and 
many  in  this  department  Avere  saved. 
But  one  of  the  most  Avondcrful  escapes 
was  that  of  a  maiden  lady  about  forty 
years  old,  who  worked  in  one  of  the  upper 
rooms.  She  was  precipitated  to  the  ruins, 
in  a  headlong  and  promiscuous  manner, 
with  timbers,  portions  of  the  roof,  bricks, 
machiner}^,  and  debris  generally,  but, 
strange  to  say,  alighted  unharmed.  It  is 
related  by  a  gentleman  who  was  early  on 
the  spot,  that  at  one  point  of  the  ruins  he 


distinguished  a  female  voice  crying  in  dis- 
tress, and  soon  another  voice  answered, 
"  Is  that  you,  Lizzie  ?  Are  you  hurt  ?  " 
The  reply  was  another  groan,  and  a 
piteous  appeal  to  God's  mercy  in  her 
behalf  ;  both  these  girls  were  afterwards 
rescued.  Just  before  the  flames  burst 
forth  a  young  girl  was  released,  and,  in 
answer  to  a  question,  stated  thai  she  was 
unhurt ;  it  afterwards  appeared,  however, 
that  her  right  arm  was  badly  broken  near 
the  wrist,  but,  in  the  excitement  of  the 
moment  and  the  joy  of  her  deliverance 
from  a  dreadful  death,  she  was  totally 
unconscious  of  the  hurt. 

A  poor  girl,  alive  and  fully  conscious, 
was  dragged  from  the  east  end  of  the 
fallen  mass,  with  her  left  arm  torn  from 
the  socket,  and  her  body  and  legs  awfully 
mangled.  In  one  place  the  bodies  of 
three  girls  were  found  locked  in  each 
other's  arms,  but  quite  dead ;  they  could 
not  be  removed  without  mutilating  or 
breaking  the  limbs,  and,  being  abandoned 
for  a  time,  the  flames  broke  out  before 
another  attempt  was  made,  and  all  three 
were  consumed.  A  tough  and  plucky 
Irishman  was  taken  out,  unhurt,  from  an 
entanglement  of  beams  and  rubbish  which 
appeared  capable  of  producing  instant 
death  ;  his  first  act,  after  bidding  a  scorn- 
ful '  good  riddance '  to  the  tight  place  he 
had  just  filled,  was  to  feel  in  his  pocket, 
from  whence  he  drew  forth  a  sooty  '  du 
deen,'  and  seizing  a  brand  from  the  fire, 
he  lit  his  pipe  and  went  his  waj'.  From 
another  part  of  the  ruins  there  was  borne 
the  dead  body  of  a  lad,  and  following  him 
was  carried  a  beautiful  girl  with  one  of  her 
ankles  burned  to  a  crisp,  she  having  been 
confined  by  one  foot  between  two  beams; 
and  only  by  the  utmost  exertion  was  the 
fair  creature  recovered.  One  woman  was 
found  with  her  head  jammed  between  two 
heavy  beams,  and  pressed  so  that  it  was 
not  thicker  than  the  thickness  of  a 
hand,  —  a  most  terrible  and  sickening 
sight.  The  next  case  was  that  of  a 
young  girl  confined  in  a  narrow  hole  sur- 
rounded by  broken  machinery  and  ragged 
timber  and  boards,  who  succeeded  in  just 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


729 


squeezing  through  into  open  air,  but  when 
she  emerged  from  the  ruins  she  had 
scarcely  an  article  of  clothing  on  her 
person. 

In  addition  to  the  narrow  escapes 
already  described,  may  be  related  that  of 
a  little  girl  who,  while  two  thousand  men 
were  exerting  every  energy  in  extricating 
the  survivors  from  their  living  sepulchres 
and  the  dead  from  the  rubbish  which 
buried  them,  was  fortunately  discovered 
by  an  exploring  party.  She  lay  appar- 
ently crushed  beneath  a  ponderous  block 
of  iron,  weighing  more  than  a  thousand 
pounds,  and  which  covered  her  body  to 
her  chin.  Her  back  was  pressed  against 
a  huge  timber,  one  of  her  arms  was  thrust 
to  the  elbow  through  a  ring  in  a  piece  of 
machinery,  and  she  was  completely  wedged 
in  by  heavy  iron  gearing.  Intent  only 
on  preserving  her  sweet  features  and  ten- 
der form  as  little  disfigured  as  possible, 
the  men  labored  carefully  to  remove  the 
block  of  iron  without  crushing  her  still 
further.  Four  or  five  of  them  tugged 
upon  it,  but  could  not  make  it  stir.  After 
they  had  made  several  ineffectual  attempts, 
a  stalwart  and  athletic  man,  in  passing, 
caught  hold  of  it,  and,  with  marvelous 
power,  aided  doubtless,  by  the  excitement 
which  the  scene  produced  upon  him,  he 
succeeded  in  loosening  it.  The  other 
materials  were  then  removed,  and  the 
body  taken  out,  when,  what  was  the  sur- 
prise and  joy  of  the  noble-hearted  Avork- 
men,  that  they  had  rescued  a  living  girl, 
instead  of  a  corpse,  and,  what  was  more, 
that  her  injuries  were  not  fatal,  but  com- 
paratively trifling.  It  proved,  on  examin- 
ation, that  the  heavy  iron  had  met  with 
'some  more  powerful  obstruction  just  as  it 
touched  and  wedged  her  fast,  and  thus  her 
life  was  spared ;  but,  had  the  pressure 
upon  her  body  been  only  very  slightly 
increased,  or  had  the  least  carelessness 
attended  the  labor  of  releasing  her,  she 
would  have  been  another  added  to  the  list 
of  victims. 

In  one  of  the  cars,  on  the  way  to 
Lawrence,  a  returning  operative,  who  had 
shortly  before  left  the  city  of  mourning  to 


find  employment  elsewhere,  was  seated  by 
a  gentleman  who  drew  forth  a  paper  con- 
taining a  list  of  the  dead  and  wounded  so 
far  as  was  then  ascertained.  The  opera- 
tive looked  over  the  gentleman's  shoulder 
and  perused  the  list.  As  his  eye  caught 
sight  of  a  name,  he  uttered  a  piteous  cry 
of  anguish,  and,  grasping  the  paper,  he  en- 
deavored, through  the  fast  trickling  tears, 
to  read  the  name  more  distinctly,  in  which, 
however,  he  could  not  succeed.  "  Is  that 
a  Mrs.  Clark  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a  tremulous 
tone.  "  It  is,"  answered  the  gentleman 
by  his  side.  "  Is  it  Annie  Clark  ?  "  pur- 
sued the  operative.  "  No,  sir ;  "  responded 
the  other,  "  it  is  Catherine  Clark ;  there 
is  no  Annie  Clark  in  the  list."  "  Thank 
God  for  that!"  exclaimed  the  operative, 
as  the  tears — but  now  of  joy — anew  burst 
forth.  "  Is  it  a  relative  you  were  anxious 
for  ?  "  inquired  a  sympathizing  passenger. 
"Yes,  sir;  "  was  the  answer,  with  a  sigh 
of  intense  relief,  "  it  is  my  wife ;  but, 
thank  heaven  !  her  name  is  not  there." 
Words  of  hearty  hope  of  his  finding  her 
safe  on  his  arrival,  were  freely  spoken  to 
him. 

But  difficult  indeed  would  it  be  to 
embody  in  the  space  of  a  few  pages  the 
details  of  a  catastrophe,  instantaneous  and 
unforeseen,  by  which  some  one  hundred 
lives  were  lost,  three  times  that  number 
of  persons  wounded,  and  nearly  a  thou- 
sand families  deprived  of  their  dailj'  means 
of  subsistence.  The  deeds  of  heroism 
on  that  awful  night ;  the  sj-mpathy  aroused 
in  the  coldest  hearts ;  charity  melting  the 
most  selfish  ;  strength  nerving  the  feeblest 
arm ;  patient  endurance  on  the  part  of 
the  wounded ;  quiet  resignation  in  the 
hearts  of  the  mourners; — all  these  were 
as  extraordinary  as  the  occasion  which 
called  them  forth.  An  appropriate  type 
or  reflection  of  the  spirit  which  actuated  all 
hearts  were  the  three  words,  "Save  Nash 
firsf,'' — the  cry  of  little  Lizzie  Flint,  a 
bright  young  girl,  an  only  daughter,  who 
had  brought  from  her  home  in  the  interior 
of  Maine  the  character  that  belongs  to 
the  rural  homes  of  New  England.  Poor 
Nash,  who  lay  severely  wounded  near  her, 


730 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


and  whose  brother  lost  his  life,  was  indeed 
saved.  The  poor  girl  did  not  survive. 
She  died  in  the  realization  of  her  tender 
and  humane  wish,  that  another,  rather 
than  herself,  might  be  saved.  Peace  to 
her  sweet  spirit  in  the  world  of  light ! 

All  events  are  due  to  some  producing 
cause,  and  to  this  fact  the  memorable  and 
disastrous  catastrophe  now  described  forms 
no  exception.  The  jury,  as  the  result  of 
their  protracted  and  painstaking  inquiries, 
declared  that  the  mill  fell  on  account  of 
the  insufficiency  and  imperfection  of  the 
material  used,  and  the  improper  arrange- 
ment of  the  same,  the  cast-iron  shoring 
being  particularly  weak.  The  brick  walls 
were  unusually  thin  for  a  mill  of  such 
height,  length  and  breadth  ;  the  space  of 
brick  wall  above  and  below  the  windows 
in  the  building  was  uncommonly  small ; 
and  the  length  of  span  from  one  support 


■ST-      ^ — 

LIZZIE    AMIDST   THE    AWFUL   KUINS. 

to  anotlier,  under  the  floor  timbers,  as 
well  as  tlie  distance  from  one  floor  timber 
to  another,  was  greater  than  in  other 
mills.  These  were  the  direct  causes  of 
the  disaster. 

In  addition  to  the  above,  there  was  yet 
another  defect,  in  the  inner  supports  of 
the  building,  which  added  greatly  to  the 
insecurity.  These  supports  consisted  of 
cast-iron  pillars  to  the  last  degree  una- 
dapted  to  fulfill  their  purpose,  some  of 
them  being  upon  one  side  only  an  eighth 
of  an  inch  in  thickness,  others  showed  a 
want  of  sharpness  in  the  material  at  the 
time  of  casting,  and  nearly  all  of  tliem 
exhibited  a  reckless  disregard  and  inex- 


cusable negligence  on  the  part  of  the 
founder,  in  not  providing  a  proper  fasten- 
ing to  prevent  the  floating  of  the  core, 
and  consequently  an  unequal  distribution 
of  the  molten  iron.  Moreover,  it  appeared 
that  at  the  time  of  the  delivery  of  these 
pillars  at  Lawrence,  and  previous  to  their 
erection,  no  test  of  their  soundness  was 
ever  ordered  or  applied.  The  straightfor- 
ward statement  of  the  master  mason 
before  the  jury  caused  every  heart  in  the 
community  to  shudder  with  horror  and 
indignation,  namely,  that  Avhen  the  tim- 
bers for  the  upper  stories  came  they  were 
too  short,  and  orders  came  to  put  pro- 
jectors upon  the  walls  to  rest  the  timbers 
upon ;  he  expressed  his  opinion  at  the 
time,  and  many  times  afterward,  not  only 
to  the  architect,  but  to  the  owners  and 
others,  while  the  mill  was  building,  that 
the  walls  were  altogether  too  weak  for 
such  a  structure !  His  warning  was  un- 
heeded, and  in  a  few  j^eai's  the  vast  and 
towering  pile  toppled  with  sudden  and 
fearful  crash  to  its  foundation,  bringing 
multitudes  to  misery  and  wailing  and 
death. 

In  connection  with  the  preceding  narra- 
tive of  agony  and  death,  some  account  of 
the  terrible  Avondale  colliery  disaster,  in 
Plymouth,  Pennsylvania,  in  September, 
1869,  may  here  have  an  appropriate  inser- 
tion. This  colliery  (according  to  the  de- 
scription given  at  the  time  in  Harper's 
Weekly,)  produced,  when  in  full  working 
order,  seven  hundred  tons  of  coal  per  day  ; 
but  for  th':ee  months  previous  to  the  first 
of  September,  it  was  idle,  owing  to  the 
miners'  strike.  The  masonry  work  of  the 
mine,  running  down  the  sides  of  the  shaft 
some  twenty  feet,  was  as  strong  as  stone 
and  cement  could  make  it.  The  engine- 
house  was  firmly  built;  the  machinery  of 
the  very  best  kind ;  and  the  breaker  that 
covered  the  engine-house,  and  through 
which  the  broken  coal  Avas  dispatched 
through  a  long  shoot  to  the  railroad  track 
l)elo\v,  was  also  built  in  a  superior  manner. 
On  the  morning  of  September  6th,  a  fire 
broke  out,  originating,  as  it  appeared,  in 
the    furnace.     A    spark    ignited   the    dry 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


731 


scantling  adjacent;  the  flames  leaped  for- 
ward to  the  bottom  of  the  shaft,  caught 
the  wood-work  inside,  climbed  to  the  top, 
and  involved  the  coal-breaker  and  the  sur- 
rounding buildings.  Whatever  fresh  air 
there  was  in  the  mine  went  to  feed  the 
fierce  flame,  while  the  sulphurous  gases, 
having  no  longer  an  outlet,  were  forced 
back  into  the  chambers  and  galleries  of 
the  colliery.  As  the  buildings  at  the  top 
of  the  shaft  were  consumed,  their  ruins 
fell  down  and  obstructed  the  only  means 
of  entrance  to  or  of  egress  from  the  mine. 
But  what  had  become  of  the  miners  ?  In 
the  agonies  of  fear  and  suspense,  their 
families  were  congregated  about  the  open- 
ing in  great  numbers ;  and  miners  from 
all  parts  of  the  region  rapidly  arrived,  to 
rescue  their  comrades,  if  possible.  It 
was  not  until  nine  o'clock  on  the  morning 
of  the  7th,  that  any  encouraging  prepai'a- 
tions  for  a  descent  could  be  made,  and  still 
the  gas  precluded  any  effective  explora- 
tion until  the  8th.  Early  on  that  day, 
two  of  the  dead  were  found  in  the  stable 
of  the  mine ;  and,  a  few  hours  later,  a 
large  number  of  miners  were  found  dead 
on  the  east  side  of  the  plane.  The  next 
party  which  descended  reported  that  they 
went  up  the  jilane,  just  beyond  which  a 
barrier  was  met,  consisting  of  coal  'culm' 
and  clothing.  This  was  cleared  away, 
and,  a  little  further  on,  a  similar  barrier 
was  found  to  have  been  arranged  by  the 


unfortunate  inmates.  One  man  was  found 
dead  outside  of  the  barricade.  Upon  the 
removal  of  this  second  barrier,  a  pile  of 
dead  miners  was  discovered.  These  were 
found  in  all  conceivable  attitudes.  Fath- 
ers had  died  embracing  their  children, 
and  comrades  locked  in  one  another's  arms. 
Mr.  Hughes,  the  superintendent,  Avas 
found  sitting  in  a  conspicuous  position. 
It  seemed  as  if,  when  the  miners  found 
there  was  no  hope  of  escape  or  of  rescue, 
they  had  all  assembled  at  the  front,  from 
ever}^  recess  of  the  mine.  Their  foreman, 
Hughes,  was  there,  and  to  him  they  all 
looked  for  counsel.  He  seized  upon  the 
one  resource  that  was  left.  If  the  fresh 
air  could  be  imprisoned  and  a  barrier 
built  against  the  invading  gases — then, 
perhaps,  the  men  could  live  until  help 
came.  Resolutely,  under  the  orders  of 
their  captain,  they  fell  to  work  and  built 
the  first  barricade.  There  sat  Hughes, 
as  he  was  afterward  found,  giving  instruc- 
tions to  the  men  and  boys.  But  all  in 
vain.  At  last,  exhausted  by  their  work, 
and  overcome  by  the  deadly  enemy  that 
would  not  be  repvilsed,  they  fainted  at 
their  posts,  and  died.  As  the  bodies  were 
brought  to  the  top  of  the  shaft,  their 
faces  were  cleansed,  and  they  were  thus 
prepared  for  the  recognition  of  their 
friends.  By  noon,  on  the  9th,  one  hun- 
dred and  eight  bodies  had  been  exhumed, 
after  which  no  more  were  found. 


LXXXY. 

GRAND  EMBASSY  FROM  THE  EMPIRE  OF  JAPAN,  WITH 

A  TREATY  OF  PEACE  AND  COMMERCE,  TO  THE 

UNITED  STATES   GOVERNMENT.— 1860. 


First  Ambassadors  Ever  Sent  from  that  Ancient  Country  to  a  Foreign  Land. — Their  OflBcial  Reception 
by  President  Buchanan,  and  Tour  of  Observation  to  the  Chief  Cities — Public  Interest  Excited  by 
this  Extraordinary  Mission. — Their  Oriental  Costume,  Manners,  Ceremonies,  etc. — Japanese  Distinc- 
tion Shown  to  Americans  — Character  of  the  Embassy. — Headed  by  Eminent  Princes. — Numerous  and 
Brilliant  Suite. — Arrival  at  Washington. — Procession  to  the  Hotel. — Most  Curious  Spectacle — How 
the  Treaty  was  Carried — Ceremonies  at  the  White  House. — Salutations  and  Speeches — Impressive 
International  Scene  — Japanese  Diplomacy. — Delivering  the  Tycoon's  Letter — Personal  Apjwarance 
of  the  Ambassadors. — President  Buchanan's  Opinion. — Humors  and  Drolleries. — "  Tommy,"  the 
Ladies'  Pet. — Gallantry  to  Miss  Lane. — The  Embassy  at  the  Navy  Yard. — Astonishment  Expressed 
by  Them. — Adieu  to  the  President — America's  Message  to  the  Emperor. 


"  Henceforth,  the  intercourse  of  friendship  shall  be  held  between  both  countries,  and  benevolent  feelings  «hall  be  cultivated  more  and 
more,  and  never  altered."— Lei TEK  OF  the  Tvcoo.n   to  the  I'kksiuem'. 


ONTRARY  to  all  precedent  in 
the  history  of  Japan,  and  its 
dealings  with  the  family  of  na- 
tions, the  rulers  of  that  country 
sent  an  official  embassy  to  the 
government  of  the  United  States, 
in  the  spring  of  1860,  charged 
with  the  duty  of  presenting  for 
final  ratification  a  treaty  of  amity 
and  commerce  between  the  two 
nations, — such  as  had  never  be- 
fore been  made  by  the  Japanese 
court  with  any  other  people, — 
and  to  express  to  the  president 
the  emperor's  profound  respect  for  him,  and  for  the  great  republic  of  which  he  was  the 
elected  chief. 

It  was  justly  regarded  as  something  flattering  to  the  national  pride  of  Americans, 
that  this  country  should  be  the  first  to  receive  the  distinction  of  an  embassy  from  that 
ancient  and  almost  unknown  people,  and  that  a  republican  government  of  the  freest 
form  should  have  been  selected  for  such  an  honor  by  a  nation  barred  in  by  the  prejudice 
of  centuries  against  all  but  the  most  despotic  rule;  and  the  curiosity  which  everywhere 
prevailed  to  behold  men  from  a  region  so  distant,  so  long  shut  out  from  the  rest  of  the 


JAPANESE  BOX  CONTAINING   THE  TREATT. 


GREAT  AND  MEMOKABLE  EVENTS. 


733 


world,  and  now,  for  the  first  time,  not  only 
admitting  tlie  visits  of  other  nations,  but 
themselves  undertaking  a  long  and  fatigu- 
ing voyage  to  visit  strangers  in  the  utter- 
most end  of  the  earth,  was  certainly  natural. 

The  embassy  consisted  of  two  principal 
ambassadors,  princes  of  the  highest  rank 
among  the  nobility  of  the  empire,  and  two 
associates, — nobles  of  nearly  equal  rank. 
These  four  were  of  the  emperor's  council, 
and  were  accompanied  by  a  suite  of  sixteen 
officers,  together  with  fifty-three  servants. 
Arriving  at  Honolulu,  in  the  United 
States  ship  Powhatan,  Commodore  Tat- 
nall,  from  Japan,  tliey  proceeded  thence  to 
San  Francisco,  where  they  arrived  March 
27,  1860,  in  good  health  and  spirits.  A 
grand  public  reception  was  given  them  by 
the  city,  the  chief  dignitaries  of  the  em- 
bassy being  magnificently  dressed  in  em- 
broidered silk  robes,  and  each  wore  a 
sword  of  beautiful  workmanship. 

In  due  time,  the  embassy  reached  Wash- 
ington, the  capital  of  the  nation,  and  the 
special  place  of  their  official  destination. 
Here  they  were  amply  and  elegantly  ac- 
commodated at  Willard's  Hotel,  many  of 
the  apartments  being  newly  furnished  for 
the  occasion.  A  fine  military  and  naval 
detachment  performed  escort  duty,  as,  in 
regular  procession,  the  high  officials  and 
their  numerous  retinue  moved  from  the 
wharf  to  the  hotel.  The  Nourimon,  a 
black  lacquered  frame,  square  in  shape, 
and  in  size  and  roof  very  much  resembling 
a  dog-kennel,  in  which  was  fixed  the  treaty 
box,  hidden  from  the  public  eye  by  a  loose 
cover  of  red  oil-cloth,  preceded  the  first 
ambassador,  in  the  line  of  procession,  and 
was  borne  by  two  of  the  men  belonging  to 
the  navy  yard. 

General  Cass,  secretary  of  state,  received 
the  embassy  on  Wednesday,  May  17th, 
and  made  a  short  speech  of  welcome.  The 
next  day  was  appointed  for  the  grand  cer- 
emonial of  their  presentation  to  the  presi- 
dent of  the  United  States,  at  the  executive 
mansion. 

The  accounts  given  in  the  Washington 
newspapers,  of  this  memorable  proceeding, 
state  that  long  before  the  time  indicated 


for  the  passage  of  the  procession  from  the 
quarters  of  the  embassy  to  the  president's 
house,  the  neigliborhood  was  filled  with  a 
dense  multitude,  intent  on  Avitnessing  a 
spectacle  so  unj^recedented.  The  United 
States  marines,  ordnance  guards,  and  ma- 
rine band,  were  in  attendance  to  do  the 
honors  of  escort.  True  to  tlie  time  they 
had  appointed,  the  Japanese  officials  com- 
menced leaving  their  hotel  at  lialf-past 
eleven  o'clock,  and  as  soon  as  they  were 
seated  in  the  carriages  drawn  up  to  convey 
them,  the  procession  moved  forward  to  the 
presidential  mansion.  Each  carriage  bore 
an  officer  of  the  embassy  in  full  ceremo- 
nial costume,  and,  between  every  two  car- 
riages, from  two  to  four  Japanese  guards, 
armed  with  swords,  not  drawn,  marched 
on  foot,  one  of  them  carrying  aloft  a  small 
ensign  in  Japanese  fasliion,  on  a  pole 
about  twelve  feet  high. 

Occupying  the  first  carriage,  was  an 
officer  arrayed  in  a  loose  slate-colored  gown 
of  state,  of  a  general  form  like  the  pulpit 
gown  worn  by  the  Episcopal  clergy,  with 
huge  sleeves  stiffly  extending  right  and 
left,  the  texture  having  a  brocade-like 
appearance.  The  lower  dress  consisted  of 
a  pair  of  trousers,  very  wide  and  full,  and 
of  the  same  material.  On  the  crown  of 
the  head,  immediately  over  the  tonsure, 
extending  from  the  forehead  to  the  crown, 
was  worn  an  ornament,  shajTed  like  a  band 
of  three  or  four  inches  wide  and  eighteen 
inches  long,  bent  in  the  middle,  and  the 
ends  tied,  but  not  close  together.  Nearly 
all  the  ambassadors  wore  this  distinction, 
but  in  some  the  bend  stood  forward,  in 
others  backward. 

After  the  official  in  the  slate-colored 
dress,  came  one  in  a  rich  green  brocade ; 
next  one  in  light  green ;  then  one  in  yel- 
low ;  next  a  dark  slate,  and  another  in 
yellow  or  orange,  a  third  in  green,  and  two 
riding  with  Mr.  Portman,  the  interpreter, 
both  arrayed  in  blue.  One  little  official, 
in  a  skirt  richly  embroidered  with  'p'lnk. 
and  gold,  attracted  considerable   attention. 

On  arriving  at  the  doorway  of  the  exec- 
utive mansion,  the  Japanese  guards  took 
the  advance  and  distributed  themselves  in 


734 


OUK  FIKST  CENT QRY.— 1776-1876. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


735 


a  double  line,  between  which  the  ambassa- 
dors and  superior  officers  passed  into  the 
interior  of  the  building.  Here  they  re- 
mained about  ten  minutes,  until  the  cen- 
tral folding-doors  of  the  great  East  room 
were  thrown  open,  when  the  oriental 
strangers  found  themselves  in  the  presence 
of  a  brilliant  throng  of  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, the  latter  comprising  the  president 
and  his  cabinet  officers,  senators,  members 
of  the  house  of  representatives,  and  officers 
of  the  army  and  nav}',  all  in  full  dress,  and 
the  whole  scene  being  most  striking  and 
impressive. 

After  every  arrangement  had  been  con- 
summated for  the  august  interview,  the 
Japanese  princes  charged  with  the  custody 
of  the  treaty,  after  advancing  a  few  paces, 
bowed  reverentially  ;  then  took  a  few  more 
steps,  and  bowed  again,  with  rigid  formal- 
ity ;  and,  having  bowed  once  more  as  they 
approached  the  president,  they  then  stood 
fast.  The  caps,  or  ornaments,  which  they 
wore  upon  their  heads,  they  retained 
throughout  the  ceremonies.  The  ambas- 
sador in  chief,  who  stood  in  the  center, 
now  read  from  a  paper  Avhich  he  held  in 
his  hand,  his  speech,  or  official  address,  to 
the  president.  It  was  read  with  rather  a 
strong  nasal  intonation,  indicating  earnest- 
ness rather  than  eloquence.  This  speech 
was  interpreted  as  follows  : 

''His  majesty,  the  Tycoon,  has  com- 
manded us  that  we  respectfully  express  to 
his  majesty  the  President  of  the  United 
States,  in  his  name  as  follows :  Desiring 
to  establish  on  a  firm  and  lasting  founda- 
tion the  relations  of  peace  and  commerce 
so  happily  existing  between  the  two  coun- 
tries that  lately  the  plenipotentiaries  of 
both  countries  have  negotiated  and  con- 
cluded a  treaty,  he  has  now  ordered  us  to 
exchange  the  ratification  of  the  treaty  in 
your  principal  city  of  Washington.  Hence- 
forth the  friendly  relations  shall  be  held 
more  and  more  lasting;  and  he  is  very 
happy  to  have  your  friendly  feeling,  and 
pleased  that  you  have  brought  us  to  the 
United  States,  and  will  send  us  to  Japan, 
in  your  men-of-war." 

When  the  ambassador   concluded  this 


address,  a  square  red  sort  of  box  or  bundle 
was,  with  some  delay,  unfolded,  and  its 
contents  presented  ceremoniously  and  with 
an  official  air  to  the  president,  containing 
a  letter  to  the  latter  from  the  Tycoon,  or 
chief  magistrate  of  Japan,  and  which  the 
president  immediately  handed  to  Mr.  Cass, 
secretary  of  state,who  stood  on  his  left  hand. 

Having  done  this,  the  ambassador  re- 
tired, explaining  that  it  would  not  comport 
with  the  etiquette  of  his  country  that  he 
should  be  present  while  the  letter  was 
read,  and  that  he  must  report  the  delivery 
of  the  letter  to  "the  commissioner," — an 
officer  who  remained  at  the  door,  outside. 

After  a  short  delay,  the  princes,  again 
entering  as  at  first,  and  having,  as  they 
advanced,  stopped  three  times  to  bow 
themselves,  presented  to  the  president 
their  letters  of  credence,  which  were  in 
like  manner  passed  over  to  the  secretary  of 
state.  The  president  now  commenced  to 
read,  in  a  very  distinct  and  audible  voice, 
his  official  address  to  the  ambassadors,  in 
the  words  following : 

"  I  give  you  a  cordial  welcome  as  repre- 
sentatives of  his  imperial  majestj',  the 
Tycoon  of  Japan,  to  the  American  gov- 
ernment. We  are  all  much  gratified  that 
the  first  embassy  which  your  great  empire 
has  ever  accredited  to  any  foreign  power 
has  been  sent  to  the  United  States. 

I  trust  that  this  will  be  the  harbinger  of 
perpetual  peace  and  friendship  between 
the  two  countries.  The  ratifications  you 
are  about  to  exchange  with  the  secretary 
of  state  cannot  fail  to  be  productive  of 
benefits  and  blessings  to  the  people  of  both 
Japan  and  the  United  States. 

I  can  say  for  myself,  and  promise  for 
my  successors,  that  it  shall  be  carried  into 
execution  in  a  faithful  and  friendly  spirit, 
so  as  to  secure  to  the  countries  all  the 
advantages  they  may  justl}^  expect  from 
the  happy  auspices  under  which  it  has 
been  negotiated  and  ratified. 

I  rejoice  that  you  are  pleased  with  the 
kind  treatment  which  you  have  received 
on  board  of  our  vessels  of  war  whilst  on 
your  passage  to  this  countrj^  You  shall  be 
sent  back  in  the    same  manner  to  your 


736 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


native  land,  under  the  protection  of  the 
American  flag. 

Meanwhile,  during  your  residence 
amongst  us,  which  I  hope  may  be  pro- 
longed so  as  to  enable  you  to  visit  different 
portions  of  our  country,  we  shall  be  happy 
to  extend  to  you  all  the  hospitality  and 
kindness  eminently  due  to  the  great  and 
friendly  sovereign  whom  you  so  worthily 
represent." 

The  tone  and  language  of  the  president 
seemed  to  be  listened  to  by  his  bowing 
auditors  with  great  satisfaction,  and  espe- 
cially the  promise  that  the  embassy  should 
be  returned  to  Japan  at  the  expense  of  the 
United  States  government,  and  under  the 
protection  of  the  American  flag. 

The  princes  retired,  as  before,  to  report 
what  had  been  done  and  said,  to  "  the 
commissioner ; "  but  soon  returned,  and 
were  then  introduced  successively  to  each 
member  of  the  cabinet,  who  all  shook 
hands  with  them.  Next  came  General 
Scott,  who  made  them  one  of  liis  most  gra- 
cious bows,  but  before  whose  imposing 
stature  the  ambassadors  seemed  almost 
extinguished.  The  vice-president  of  the 
United  States  was  then  called  for,  but  was 
not  in  presence.  The  speaker  of  the 
house  of  representatives  was  next  sum- 
moned, and,  with  difiiculty,  and  not  a  little 
delay,  oared  his  way  through  the  sea  of 
ladies'  bonnets  and  ofiicers'  epaulettes 
which  tossed  and  billowed  between  him 
and  the  high  place  of  honor.  Finally, 
under  the  surveillance  of  Captain  Dupont, 
the  illustrious  strangers,  after  a  profound 
adieu  to  the  president,  which  he  returned 
with  a  bow  as  low,  retired  from  the  East 
room,  and  made  their  way  through  ranks 
of  their  kneeling  subordinates  to  another 
room,  where  they  prepared  for  their  re- 
turn to  their  quarters. 

The  following  is  a  translation  of  the 
letter  of  the  Tj'-coon  to  the  president, 
which  was  delivered  by  the  ambassadors : 
"To  His  Majesty  the  President  of  the 
United  States  of  America,  I  express  with 
resjiect:  Lately  the  governor  of  Simoda 
Insooye  Sinano  No-Kami  and  the  Metske 
Iwasi  Hego  No-Kami  had  negotiated  and 


decided  with  Townsend  Harris,  the  minis- 
ter plenipotentiary  of  3'our  country,  an 
affair  of  amity  and  commerce,  and  con- 
cluded previously  the  treaty  in  the  city  of 
Yeddo.  And  now  the  ratification  of  the 
treaty  is  sent  with  the  commissioner  of 
foreign  affairs,  Simmi  Boojsen  No-Kami 
and  Mooragaki  Awajsi  No-Kami,  to  ex- 
change the  mutual  treaty.  It  proceeds 
from  a  particular  importance  of  affairs 
and  a  perfectly  amicable  feeling.  Hence- 
forth, the  intercourse  of  friendship  shall 
be  held  between  both  countries,  and  benev- 
olent feelings  shall  be  cultivated  more  and 
more,  and  never  altered.  Because  the 
now  deputed  three  subjects  are  those 
whom  I  have  chosen  and  confided  in  for 
the  present  post,  I  desire  3'ou  to  grant 
them  your  consideration,  charity,  and 
respect.  Herewith  I  desire  you  to  spread 
my  sincere  wish  for  friendly  relations,  and 
also  I  have  the  honor  to  congratulate  you  on 
the  security  and  welfare  of  your  country." 

The  first  ambassador  was  a  man  of 
small  frame,  with  a  stoop  across  the  shoul- 
ders ;  he  was  about  five  feet  five  in  height, 
and  thirty-five  in  years,  had  a  long  face 
and  a  peculiar  nose — being  too  thin  to  be 
called  Jewish,  and  too  even  to  be  styled 
Roman.  The  second  ambassador  looked 
twenty  years  older  than  the  first.  The 
countenance  of  the  first  indicated  dignity 
beyond  all  affectation,  and  the  highest 
refinement.  The  others  were  of  less  dis- 
tinguished mien,  but  all  possessed  an 
agreeable  expression.  They  were  all 
thick-skinned  and  dark  in  complexion,  the 
general  color  being  that  of  a  bamboo 
walking-cane.  The  hair  was  shaved  from 
all  parts  of  the  head  excepting  the  sides 
and  back,  from  M'hich  it  was  gathered  in 
long  bands  to  the  crow^n,  and  there  fast- 
ened with  a  white  string,  leaving  a  lock 
three  or  four  inches  long,  stiffened  with 
oil,  and  brought  forward  to  the  forehead. 

They  wore  silk  or  crape  undercoats,  of 
various  hues,  looser  robes  of  the  same 
material,  and  mostly  blue,  being  thrown 
and  folded  over  them.  In  their  belts  of 
crape,  they  wore  two  swords,  one  short 
(the   barrikarri   sword,   which   no  plebian 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


•37 


can  make  use  of),  the  other  longer.  These 
weapons  are  of  a  liner  steel  than  is  else- 
where made,  and  were  borne  in  neatly- 
wrouglit  scabbards  of  thick  skin,  inlaid 
with  ornaments  of  gold  and  jewels.  Their 
trousers  were  very  wide  and  short,  de- 
scending only  to  witliin  live  or  six  inches 
of  the  ground,  and  were  made  of  silk,  some 
of  them  being  covered  witli  beautifully 
embroidered  lisjures  of  birds  and  flowers. 
These  trousers  were  held  up  by  a  flat 
braid  resting  in  the  small  of  the  back,  and 
around  which  the  crape  belt  passed.  Upon 
their  feet  were  wliite  cloth  coverings,  half 
sock,  luilf  gaiter,  closely  fitting,  and  fast- 
ened by  cords.  Their  sandals  were  of 
sti*aw,  and  composed  of  a  small,  flat  matting 
for  the  foot,  and  two  cords  to  keep  it  in  its 
place.  Another  article,  almost  inseparable 
from  the  dress, — the  pipe, — was  carried  in 
the  back  part  of  the  belt,  and  was  brought 
into  very  frequent,  thougli  not  long  sus- 
tained, use,  three  whiffs  being  the  extent 
of  Japanese  indulgence  in  the  weed.  The 
princes,  and  most  of  the  higher  officers, 
wore  watches  purchased  from  the  Dutch. 
For  pockets,  they  used  a  part  of  their 
flowing  sleeves  and  the  front  of  their 
robes  above  the  belt,  the  customary  occu- 
pation of  which  by  goodly-sized  packages 
gave  the  wearers  a  protuberant  appearance 
quite  unaccountable  at  first  siglit.  The 
dresses  of  the  officers  of  lower  grade  were 
similarly  fashioned,  but  not  so  rich  in  text- 
ure or  color.  Their  coats  were  all  marked 
with  the  stamp  of  the  particular  j)rince 
whom  they  served. 

President  Buchanan  extended  the  cour- 
tesies of  the  nation  to  llie  distinguislied 
strangers  in  a  manner  befitting  his  high 
station,  nor  was  he  an  unappreciating 
observer  of  their  manners  and  peculiarities. 
"They  never  speak  to  me,"  he  humor- 
ously said,  "without  calling  mo  'Emperor' 
and  'His  Majesty,'  and  are  the  most  par- 
ticular people  about  what  they  should  do. 
Everything  was  written  down  for  them, 
stating  the  course  they  were  to  take,  the 
number  of  bows  they  were  to  make,  and 
all  that,   before   they  left  Japan.     They 

can't  understand  me  at  all.     They  were 
17 


I  here  in  front,  to  hear  the  band,  on  Satur- 
day. Well,  I  went  down  the  steps  to 
spuak  to  some  of  my  friends  that  I  saw, 
and  they  couldn't  understand  that  at  all. 
To  think  that  I — 'Emperor  of  the  United 
States  ' — should  go  down  among  and  shake 
hands  with  the  people,  astonished  them 
wonderfully.  Oh,  no  !  they  couldn't  un- 
derstand that,  it  was  so  unlike  any  thing 
in  their  own  country.  They  are  the 
queerest  people  to  deal  with  possible ; 
there's  no  getting  anything  out  of  them, 
they're  so  close  about  everything.  Ah  ! 
these  Japanese ;  they're  the  most  curious 
people  I  ever  saw.  They  take  notes  of 
every  incident.  They've  got  down  a  long 
description  of  how  I  looked  when  they  had 
the  reception,  and  every  matter  they've 
seen — nothing  escapes  them.  They're 
always  sketching  and  taking  notes  of 
things.  They're  very  proud,  too,  I  can 
see  ;  they  bow  very  low,  but  they  won't  do 
more  than  is  prescribed  for  them  in  their 
instructions."  The  observations  of  the 
president,  on  these  points,  accorded  pre- 
cisely with  the  views  expressed  by  others. 
The  interest  manifested  by  the  public  in 
the  appearance  and  movements  of  the 
Japanese  was  a  source  of  continued  grati- 
fication to  the  oriental  visitors ;  the}^  ap- 
peared pleased  with  the  motley  crowds 
that  assembled  under  their  windows,  pre- 
senting to  them  quite  frequently  their 
smiling  countenances, —  sometimes  amus- 
ing themselves,  also,  by  throwing  their 
native  coin  into  the  street,  to  be  .'cninibled 
for.  Large  numbers  of  ladies  and  gentle- 
men paid  their  respects  to  them,  and 
begged  a  card  written  in  Japanese  charac- 
ters, which  were  exhibited,  in  connection 
with  the  singular  coin,  as  trophies  and 
mementos  of  this  memorable  occasion. 
The  Japanese  were  particular  to  inquire 
the  occupation  of  their  visitors,  their  salary-, 
whether  married,  and  numerous  other  ques- 
tions, all  of  which  were  written  on  their 
note-books.  With  the  ladies  they  were  less 
particular.  They  smiled  upon  them  most 
benignly,  and  were  profuse  in  their  admi- 
ration, as  they  were  minute  in  their  exam- 
ination of  their  jewelry.     The  piano  was 


738 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


a  special  object  of  curiosity ;  tlie  source 
whence  such  beautiful  harmonies  proceeded 
was  a  profound  mystery  to  tliem,  but  they 
never  seemed  to  tire  of  the  instrument. 

One  of  the  most  popular  members  of  the 
embassy  was  Tataiesi  Owasjero,  the  young- 
est of  the  interj^reters,  and  called  by  his 
American  friends  "  Tommy."  He  was  a 
particular  favorite  with  the  ladies.  When 
fans  were  handed  to  him  for  his  autograph, 
he  wrote  upon  them, "I  like  American  lady 
very  much  ;  I  want  to  marry  and  live 
here  with  pletty  lady  " — ('  pletty '  being  an 
emendation  of  his  own  upon  *  pretty.') 
Moreover,  the  sentiments  of  Tommy  ap- 
peared to  be  liberally   reciprocated.     He 


which  he  persisted  in  chilling  ^ Poppy  Goes 
the  Weasel,' — thinking  the  extra  sj'llable 
rather  a  good  thing.  He  also  extended 
his  American  acquirements  in  a  less  praise- 
worthy direction, — getting  to  swear  after  a 
curious  manner,  and,  when  over-excited, 
mingling  undue  profanity  with  his  conver- 
sation, but  with  no  notion  of  the  impro- 
priety he  was  committing.  A  beautiful 
little  girl,  six  or  seven  years  old,  was  car- 
ried by  Mayor  Berret  to  see  the  Japanese. 
Tommy  directly  assumed  a  deep  interest 
in  her.  He  explained  to  her  all  sorts  of 
Japanese  notions,  and  for  once  repressed 
his  boisterous  instincts.  He  kept  calling 
all  his  companions  to  look  at  the  pretty 


AMUASSADUKS   SIMM!   BOOJ8EN  NOKAMI  AND  MOOKAGAKI  AWAJSI  NOKAMI. 


was  a  thorough  pet.  Bevies  of  maidens 
gazed  beneficently  upon  him  all  da}',  and 
until  late  in  the  evening,  and  extended  to 
him  unreluctant  hands.  Matrons,  too, 
proffered  him  attentions;  but,  with  keen 
discrimination,  he  was  generally  taken 
with  a  fit  of  business  when  the  smiles  that 
greeted  him  were  not  the  smiles  of  youth- 
ful beauty.  He  soon  learned  to  sing  and 
whistle  —  a  great  acquisition,  since  the 
Japanese  are  not  a  singing  people,  and 
liavebutfew  musical  instruments.  Among 
the  tunes  which  he  mastered  were  *  Hail 
Columbia,'  and  '  Pop  Goes    the    Weasel,' 


stranger,  and  when  she  was  about  going 
away,  asked  :  "Is  it  permitted  here  to  kiss 
a  little  girl  so  young  as  that  ?  " — adding 
that  in  Japan  it  was  considered  exactly 
the  correct  thing  to  do. 

On  the  occasion  of  the  embassy  visiting, 
in  a  social  way,  the  president's  grounds, 
Miss  Lane,  the  president's  niece,  exhibited 
some  curiosity  to  examine  the  blade  of 
Ogoori  Bungo-No-Kami's  sword.  No 
sooner  did  that  official  comprehend  the 
desire  of  the  lady  to  unsheath  his  catanna 
(the  name  of  the  weapon,)  than  he  smiled 
most   graciously,    and   said   in   Japanese, 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


739 


"Take  it,  my  lady,"  at  tlie  same  time 
handing  it  to  her  most  gracefully.  She, 
upon  this,  drew  the  glittering  blade  from 
its  scabbard — half  wood,  half  leather,  with 
an  inlaying  of  silver, — and  eyed  it  woman- 
like and  closely,  and  then  returning  it  to 
its  sheath,  handed  it  back  to  its  owner, 
who  took  it  with  evident  pleasure  that  the 
thing  of  his  honor  and  defense  should  have 
excited  interest  on  the  part  of  one  so  fair. 

Visiting  the  navy  yard,  they  were  aston- 
ished at  beholding  the  forging  of  a  main 
stem  of  a  large  anchor.  They  theJi  pro- 
ceeded to  the  steam  boiler  department,  and 
were  evidently  delighted  with  a  large  new 
boiler  destined  for  the  steamer  Pensacola, 
as  they  examined  it  minutely.  In  the 
punching  establishment,  the  mode  of  drill- 
ing amused  them  very  much,  as  did  also 
the  explosion  of  a  large  mass  of  powder,  in 
the  shape  of  signal  lights,  as  used  in  the 
navy.  The  extending  of  an  immense 
chain,  by  hydraulic  pressure,  greatly  ex- 
cited their  curiosity. 

After  a  tour  through  different  portions 
of  the  country,  including  visits  to  the 
principal  cities,  where  they  were  the  recip- 
ients of  the  most  lavish  and  magnificent 
hospitalities,  thej'^  had  their  final  ceremo- 
nial audience  with  President  Buchanan,  in 
Washington.  On  this  occasion,  the  first 
ambassador  read,  quite  in  a  whisper,  the 
following  words  of  farewell,  as  repeated  by 
the  interpreter : 

''The  exchange  of  the  ratification  of  the 
treaty  having  taken  place,  and  the  time  of 
our  departure  having  arrived,  we  have 
come  to  take  leave  of  3'our  excellency,  and 
to  wish  you  continued  health  and  prosper- 
ity. We  may  be  allowed  to-day  to  tender 
your  excellency  our  heart-felt  thanks  for 
your  friendly  feelings  on  our  behalf,  and 
for  the  very  kind  treatment  we  have  met 
with  in  Washington. 

It  has  been  a  source  of  gratification  to 
us  to  visit  several  government  institutions, 
where  we  have  seen  many  things  in  which 
we  have  felt  much  interest.  Of  all  this, 
and  of  our  journey  home  in  the  Niagara,  a 
full  account  will  be  submitted  by  us,  on 
our  return,  to  the    Tycoon,  who  will  be 


greatly  pleased  by  it,  and  who  will  always 
endeavor  to  strengthen  and  to  increase  the 
friendly  relations  so  happily  established 
between  the  two  countries." 

To  the  speech  of  the  ambassador,  the 
president  re})lied  as  follows  : 

"  The  arrival  of  these  distinguished 
commissioners  from  the  Tycoon  has  been 
a  very  propitious  and  agreeable  event  in 
my  administration.  It  is  an  historical 
event,  which,  I  trust,  will  unite  the  two 
nations  together  in  bonds  of  friendship 
through  all  time. 

The  conduct  of  the  commissioners  has 
met  my  entire  approbation,  and  the  Ty- 
coon could  not  have  selected  out  of  all  his 
dominions,  any  representatives  who  could 
have  more  conciliated  the  good-will  of  the 
government  of  the  United  States.  I  have 
caused  the  secretary  of  state  to  prepare  a 
letter  of  re-credence — a  letter  from  under 
my  own  hand — to  the  Tycoon,  stating  my 
opinion  of  the  manner  in  which  they  have 
performed  their  business ;  and  a  copy  of 
that  letter  will  be  placed  in  their  hands 
before  their  departure. 

I  wish  you  a  verj'  agreeable  time  during 
the  remainder  of  3'our  residence  in  the 
United  States,  and  a  safe  and  happy  return 
to  your  own  country,  under  the  flag  of  the 
American  Union. 

I  desire,  for  mj'self,  to  present  to  each 
of  the  commissioners  a  gold  medal,  struck 
at  the  mint,  in  commemoration  of  their 
arrival  and  services  in  this  country. 

There  have  been  several  presents  pre- 
pared for  his  imperialmajesty  the  Tycoon, 
which  will  be  sent  to  your  lodgings  in  the 
course  of  the  day." 

The  embassy  left  the  United  States  on 
the  first  of  July,  in  the  magnificent  ship- 
of-war  Niagara,  carrying  with  them,  in 
addition  to  the  treaty  by  which  American 
commercial  privileges  in  Japan  were  much 
extended,  a  large  number  of  valuable  gifts 
from  our  government,  and  the  remem- 
brance of  a  visit  in  every  respect  happy 
and  auspicious.  The  results  of  the  mission 
were  in  the  highest  degree  satisfactory  to 
both  governments,  and  naturally  excited 
much  interest  on  the  part  of  other  nations. 


LXXXYI. 

ARRIVAL   AND    EXHIBITION,    IX    NEW    YORK,   OF    THE 
IRON    STEAMSHIP    GREAT    EASTERN.— 18G0. 


The  Largest  and  Most  Extraordinary  Vessel  ever  Constructed. — Burden,  Twenty  Thousand  Tons; 
Length,  Six  Hundred  and  Eighty  Feet. — Tens  of  Thousands  of  Visitors  from  all  Parts  of  the 
Union.—  Admiration  of  Her  Majestic  Proportions,  Ease  of  Movement,  and  Her  Splendid  and 
Powerful  Machinery. — Matcliiess  Triumph  of  Human  Genius  and  Sliill — "  Wonders  of  tlie  World," 
So  Called.  —  Modern  Achievements  Pre-eminent.  —  Marvels  of  Steam  Application.  —  First 
Crossing  of  the  Atlantic. — Voyage  of  the  Savannah  in  1818. — Curiosity  and  Wonder  Excited. 
— Visited  by  Crowned  Heads — Most  Peculiar  Reminiscences. — Building  the  Great  Western. — First 
Regular  Ocean  Steamer. — Her  Complete  Success.— Growth  of  Ocean  Steam  Transit. — Conception 
of  the  Great  Eastern. — Her  Nautical  Peculiarities — Architectural  Perfection. — Superb  Appointments 
Throughout. — Working  Power,  Eight  Thousand  Horses. — Ship's  Weight,  Twelve  Thousand  Tons. — 
Rated  for  Four  Thousand  Passengers. — Appearance  in  New  York  Harbor. — Salutes,  Escorts,  etc. — 
Greeted  by  Dense  Throngs. 


"  The  RreatPRt  conquest  of  intellect  over  inanimate  stiatter  and  the  blind  forces  of  nature,  that  has  ever  been  achieved  by  the  human 

mC8."— SCIENIIKIU   AMiiRICAM,  AUOUST  4,    WiU. 


THE  GREAT  EASTERN. 

Bonders  of  the  World"  was  the  title  of  a  volume  which,  in  clays  gone  hy, 
was  eagerly  sought  by  readers  of  both  sexes  and  of  aln:ost  every  age,  its  contents  excit- 
ing a  degree  of  interest  and  admiration  which,  at  this  period,  seems  well-nigh  fabulous. 
The  "wonders"  therein  enumerated  and  described  were  seven,  all  of  which  pertained 
to  the  land  of  the  orient  and  to  the  skill  and  craft  of  the  ancients.  They  were  as  fol- 
lows : 

First,  the  Egyptian  Pyramids;  the  largest  of  these  being  nearly  seven  hundred  feet 
square  and  five  hundred  feet  high,  and  its  base  covering  eleven  acres.  Second,  the 
Mausoleum,  erected  to  Mausolus,  a  king  of  Caria,  by  his  widow,  Artemisia;  it  was 
sixty-three  feet  long  and  thirty-five  feet  high.     Third,  the  Temple  of  Diana,  at  Ephesus. 


GEE  AT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


741 


This  was  four  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet 
long  and  two  hundred  and  twenty  feet 
broad. 

Fourth,  the  Walls  and  Hanging  Gar- 
dens of  Babylon ;  said  to  have  been  walls 
eighty-seven  feet  thick,  three  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  high,  and  sixty  miles  long. 

Fifth,  the  Colossus  of  Khodes.  This 
was  a  brazen  statue  of  Apollo,  one  hundred 
and  five  feet  high,  standing  at  the  mouth 
of  the  harbor  of  Rhodes. 

Sixth,  the  Statue  of  Jupiter  Olympus, 
at  Athens ;  it  was  made  of  ivory  and  gold, 
and  was  wonderful  for  its  beauty  rather 
than  for  its  size. 

Seventh,  the  Pharos  of  Ptolemy  Phila- 
delphus.  This  was  a  light-house,  five  hun- 
dred feet  high,  on  the  island  of  Pharos,  at 
Alexandria,  in  Egypt.  A  fire  of  wood  was 
kept  burning  on  its  summit  during  the 
night,  to  guide  ships  to  the  harbor. 

How  much  greater  the  ivoiiders  of  mod- 
ern times!  Pre-eminentlv  is  this  true  of 
those  marvelous  discoveries  and  inventions 
which  pertain  to  the  application  of  steam 
to  locomotion  on  land  and  water — the  sub- 
ject of  the  present  article,  the  construction 
of  the  Great  Eastern  and  its  memorable 
voyage  to  New  York,  furnishing  the  most 
magnificent  illustration  of  the  latter. 

It  is  an  interesting  fact,  that,  as  early  as 

1818,  American  enterprise  had  inaugurated 
ocean  steam  navigation, — at  least  to  such 
an  extent  as  to  demonstrate  its  practica- 
bility. This  was  the  ship  Savannah,  of 
about  three  hundred  tons,  built  in  New 
York,  from  which  place  she  sailed  for 
Savannah,  where  she  was  owned,  in  March, 

1819.  The  trial  trip  was  highly  success- 
ful. The  vessel  then  proceeded  to  Charles- 
ton, and  after  being  lionized  there  for  a 
short  time,  took  James  Monroe,  then  pres- 
ident of  the  United  States,  to  Savannah. 
On  the  26th  of  May,  she  sailed  direct  for 
Liverpool,  making  the  passage  in  twenty- 
two  days,  partly  by  steam  and  partly  by 
sails.  She  was  commanded  by  Capt.  Ste- 
vens Rogers. 

Several  amusing  incidents  occurred  in 
connecticn  with  this  voyage  of  the  Savan- 
nah, one  or  two  of  which,  as  related  in  the 


columns  of  a  New  York  paper,  will  cer- 
tainly bear  repetition.  It  appears  that 
M'hen  the  ship  was  approaching  Cape  Clear, 
under  steam,  she  was  discovered  by  the 
officers  of  the  telegraph  or  signal  station, 
and  was  reported  to  the  admiral  in  com- 
mand at  Cork,  as  a  ship  on  fire.  The 
admiral  at  once  dispatched  a  fast  cutter, 
well  manned,  to  her  relief;  but  great  was 
their  wonder  at  their  total  inability',  under 
all  sail  and  with  a  good  breeze,  to  come  up 
with  "a  ship  under  bare  poles."  After 
several  shots  had  been  fired  from  the 
cutter,  the  engine  of  the  ship  was  stopped 
and  the  cutter  permitted  to  apjiroach,  when 
her  officers  were  invited  on  board  to  exam- 
ine and  admire  the  new  invention.  Soon 
after  dropping  her  anchor  in  the  harbor  of 
Liverpool,  a  boat,  manned  with  sailors  in 
naval  uniform,  commanded  by  a  lieuten- 
ant, came  alongside,  and  the  officer,  in  a 
tone  more  authoritative  than  pleasing, 
demanded  of  the  first  man  he  saw — 
"  Where  is  your  master  ?  " 
"  I  have  no  master,^'  replied  the  Ameri- 
can. 

''  Where  is  your  captain,  then,  sir?  " 
"  He  is  below,  sir,"  was  the  repl3\ 
Captain  Rogers  asked  the  Englishman 
what  he  wanted-  The  officer  replied,  "  My 
commander  demands  to  know  by  M'hat 
authority  you  wear  that  pennant,  sir  ?  " — 
pointing  with  his  sword  to  a  coach-whip 
pennant  flying  at  the  main-mast  head.  To 
this  the  captain  replied — 

"By  the  authority  of  my  government, 
which  is  republican  and  permits  me  to  do 


so. 


The  officer  then  remarked  that  his  com- 
mander considered  it  as  an  insult  to  him, 
and,  commanding  the  American  to  haul 
down  the  pennant,  intimated  that,  if  it  was 
not  qui<;kly  done,  he  would  be  supplied 
with  help.  This  was  a  little  too  harsh  for 
Yankee  spirit  to  endure,  and  Rogers  in- 
stantly gave  the  order  to  haul  down  the 
coach-whip,  and  svjiply  its  place  with  a 
broad  hhie  pennant,  such  as  were  worn  by 
the  commanders  of  squadrons  in  the  Amer- 
ican navy,  and  ranking  with  the  highest 
grade  in  that  of  the  British,  and  then,  in 


742 


OUR  FIRST  CE:^fTURY.— 1776-1876. 


a  loud  tone  of  A'oice — so  that  he  might  he 
heard  hy  the  English — he  directed  the 
engineer  to  get  the  hot-water  /y**/?es  ready. 
This  order  had  the  desired  effect,  although 
there  was  no  such  apparatus  on  board,  and 
the  gallant  lieutenant  and  his  crew  pulled 
for  dear  life.  The  hot-water  jeers,  which 
were  subsequently  leveled  at  these  brave 
specimens  of  the  British  navy,  caused 
them  to  start  upon  an  early  cruise. 

In  Liverpool,  the  Savannah  attracted 
great  attention  on  the  part  of  the  authori- 
ties and  citizens,  and,  as  her  fame  spread 
to  London,  the  crown  officers,  noblemen, 
and  many  leading  merchants,  visited  her. 
The  officers  were  very  anxious  to  ascertain 
her  speed,  her  errand,  and  her  destination. 
It  was  suspected  by  some  that  her  design 
was  to  rescue  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  then  a 
prisoner  at  St.  Helena.  She  was  there- 
fore carefully  watched  by  the  British  gov- 
ernment, and  ships  of  war  were  stationed 
at  certain  points  for  that  purpose. 

Proceeding  to  Copenhagen,  the  Savan- 
nah excited  great  manifestations  of  wonder 
and  curiosity.  On  arriving  at  Stockholm, 
she  was  visited  by  the  royal  family,  minis- 
ters of  state,  and  naval  officers,  who,  by 
invitation,  dined  on  board,  and  took  an 
excursion  among  the  neighboring  islands, 
with  which  they  were  delighted,  so  easy, 
rapid,  and  strange,  were  the  movements  of 
the  vessel. 

The  Savannah  next  proceeded  to  St. 
Petersburg,  where  she  was  visited  by  the 
entire  court,  who  tested  her  qualities  by  a 
trip  to  Cronstadt.  So  well  pleased  was 
the  emperor,  that  the  officers  were  treated 
with  marked  attention.  They  Avere  in- 
vited to  be  present  at  a  review  of  eighty 
thousand  troops  by  the  emperor  in  person; 
and  a  frigate  of  the  largest  class  was 
launched  on  the  "Camels,"  and  taken 
down  to  Cronstadt,  as  an  exhibition  of  the 
progress  of  tlie  arts  in  Russia.  Tlie  em- 
peror also  solicited  Captain  Rogers  to 
remain  in  the  Russian  seas  witli  his 
steamer,  offering  him  the  protection  of  the 
government  and  the  exclusive  navigation 
of  the  Black  and  Baltic  seas  for  a  number 
of  years. 


From    St.    Petersburg,     the     Savannah 
sailed  for  Arendal,  in  Norway,  and  thence 
to     Savannah,     making    the    passage    in 
twenty-five    days,    thus    ending    the  first 
voyage  ever  made  across  the  Atlantic  by 
the  aid  of  steam.     But,  though  the  practi- 
cability of  trans-oceanic  steam  navigation 
was,  in  effect,   assured  by  this   trip, — as 
well  as  by  the  steam  voyages  of  the  Cura- 
coa,  which,  in  1829,   made  two  trips  be- 
tween Holland  and  the  West  Indies, — sails 
were   depended   upon,    to   a   considerable 
extent,  by  both  vessels.     The  first  perfect 
realization  of  this  marvelous  idea  was  not 
until  some  years  later.     The  first  keel  laid 
expressly  for  an   Atlantic   steamship  was 
that  of   the    Great   Western,    of   Bristol, 
England,  which,  in  Ajiril,  1838,  crossed  to 
New  York,  and  returned  in   May.      She 
was  preceded,  at  an  interval  of  three  days, 
by  the  Sirius,  of  Liverjiool,   a  vessel  not 
built  for  but  adapted  to  this  service.     Each 
performed,  without  supplies,  above   three 
thousand  miles,  at  an  average  rate  of  two 
hundred  and  ten  miles  a  day. 

But,  without  going  into  a  history  of  the 
splendid  lines  of  trans-atlantic  steamers 
which  followed  the  auspicious  inauguration 
above  described,  it  may  be  said  that  the 
most  magnificent  conception  and  achieve- 
ment, the  great  wonder  of  modern  times, 
in  oceanic  navigation,  is  to  be  found  in  the 
construction  and  performances  of  the 
steamship  Great  Eastern,  the  joint  produc- 
tion of  Mr.  Scott  Russell  and  Mr.  Brunei, 
of  England. 

A  brief  description  of  this  most  stupen- 
dous and  marvelous  of  steamships  will  here 
be  given,  and  then  an  account  of  that 
memorable  event — her  voyage  across  the 
Atlantic,  and  arrival  and  eochihition  in 
this  country,  which  is  the  design  of  this 
article. 

With  one  or  two  exceptions,  this  mam- 
moth shij)  is  (the  description  here  given 
applies  to  the  time  when  the  Great  Brit- 
ain was  approaching  completion)  an  ex- 
tended copy  merely  of  all  other  iron 
steamers  built  on  the  wave-line  principle. 
The  most  important  of  the  exceptions 
alluded  to  is  the  cellular  construction  of 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


743 


the  upper  deck  and  the  lower  part  of  the 
hull,  up  to  the  water-line,  or  about  thirty 
feet  from  her  bottom,  which  is  as  flat  as 
the  floor  of  a  room.  This  system,  while  it 
giv^es  great  buoyancy  to  the  liull,  increases 
her  strength  enormously,  and  thus  enables 
her  to  resist  almost  any  amount  of  outside 
pressure.  Again,  two  walls  of  iron,  about 
sixty  feet  higli,  divide  the  vessel  longitu- 
dinally into  three  parts — the  inner  con- 
taining the  boilers,  the  engine  rooms,  and 
the  saloons,  rising  one  above  the  other,  and 
the  lateral  divisions  the  coal  bunkers,  and, 
above  them,  the  side  cabins  and  berths. 

The  paddle-wheels  are  fifty-six  feet  in 
diameter,  and  their  weight  one  hundred 
and  eightj^-five  tons.  The  engines  for  the 
paddle-wheels  are  oscillating  engines,  of 
one  thousand  nominal  liorse-power,  with 
four  cylinders,  the  weight  of  each  'adinder, 
including  piston  and  piston-rod,  being 
thirty -eight  tons.  There  are  four  boilers 
for  the  paddle-engine,  seventeen  feet  nine 
inches  long,  seventeen  feet  six  inches  wide, 
thirteen  feet  nine  inches  high,  and  each 
weighing  about  fifty  tons,  and  containing 
forty  tons  of  water.  The  screw  propeller, 
which  is  twenty-four  feet  in  diameter,  and 
forty-four  feet  pitch,  is  b}'^  far  the  largest 
ever  made.  Its  four  fans,  which  were  cast 
separately,  and  afterwards  fitted  into  a 
large  cast-iron  boss,  were  comjiared  to  the 
blade  bones  of  some  huge  animal  of  the 
pre- Adamite  world.  The  weight  of  the 
screw  is  thirty-six  tons.  The  propeller 
shaft,  for  moving  the  screw  itself,  is  one 
hundred  and  sixty  feet  long,  and  weighs 
sixty  tons;  the  afterdength  of  this  shaft 
is  forty-seven  feet  long,  and  weighs  thirty- 
five  tons. 

The  screw  engines  are  horizontal  direct- 
acting,  and  of  sixteen  hundred  nominal 
horsepower.  They  are  four  in  number, 
and  are  the  largest  ever  made  for  marine 
purposes.  The  combined  screw  engines 
work  up  to  an  indicator-power  of  four 
thousand  five  hundred  horses  of  thirty- 
three  thousand  pounds,  when  working  at 
forty-five  strokes  a  minute,  with  steam  in 
the  boiler  at  fifteen  pounds,  and  the  expan- 
sion valve  cutting  off  at  one-third  of  the 


stroke.  They  are,  however,  made  to  work 
smoothly,  either  at  forty  strokes  per  min- 
ute, with  steam  at  twenty-five  pounds,  with- 
out expansion  or  at  fifty-five  strokes  per 
minute,  with  the  expansion  cutting  off 
at  one-fourth  of  the  stroke.  Under  ihese 
circumstances,  they  will  be  working  at  the 
tremendous  power  of  six  thousand  five 
hundred  horses. 

There  ai-e  six  masts,  five  of  them  iron, 
the  after-mast  wood.  The  standing  rig- 
ging is  seven  and  a  half  inch  wire  rope, 
except  for  the  sixth  mast,  which  is  hemp 
rope.  There  is  not  a  particle  of  iron  about 
this  mast,  it  being  intended  for  the  posi- 
tion of  the  compass. 

In  the  matter  of  accommodations,  the 
Great  Eastern  is  designed  to  carry  eight 
hundred  first-class,  two  thousand  second- 
class,  and  one  thousand  two  hundred  third- 
class  passengers,  independently  of  the 
ship's  complement,  making  a  total  of  four 
thousand  guests.  For  the  convenience  of 
these,  there  are  whole  streets  and  squares 
of  apartments.  The  first  thing  that  ar- 
rests the  attention,  on  descending  into  the 
saloons,  is  the  handsome  and  roomy  en- 
trances and  the  spacious  stairs.  The  first- 
class  saloons  and  sleeping-cabins  are  in  the 
fore-part  of  the  center  of  the  vessel,  the 
second  class  abaft  them,  and  the  third 
class  still  further  aft.  The  largest  saloon 
is  nearly  one  hundred  feet  long,  thirty-six 
feet  wide,  and  thirteen  feet  high.  Above 
it  are  two  other  saloons,  one  above  sixty 
feet  long,  and  a  smaller  one,  about  twenty- 
four  feet  long, — the  latter  is  a  ladies'  cabin. 
The  sleeping-cabins  are  about  fourteen  feet 
long  by  seven  or  eight  feet  wide,  and  seven 
feet  four  inches  high.  There  are  also  six 
other  saloons,  with  their  different  sleeping 
cabins, — the  total  length  thus  occupied  by 
the  cabins  being  more  than  three  hundred 
feet. 

Having  been  thoroughly  tested  in  re- 
spect to  her  sea-going  qualities,  the  mam- 
moth ship  was  advertised  to  the  travel- 
ing public  in  a  poster  only  sixteen 
inches  long,  and  of  the  following  modest 
tenor : 

"  Steam  communication  from  Southamp- 


744 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1.S76. 


'-  1      *  n 


ton  to  New  York.  The  stean>ship 
"  Great  Eastern,"  18,915  tons  register, 
J.  Vine  Hal],  commander,  will  be  dis- 
patched to  New  York  on  Saturday,  June 
9,  1860."  Then  followed  a  schedule  of 
prices  for  passengers,  luggage,  freight, 
etc. 

Some  delay  attended  the  carrying  out 
of  the  programme  for  her  dejiarture  for 
the  western  world,  but  when,  at  last, 
that  event  took  place,  it  was  witnessed 
by  tens  of  thousands  of  enthusiastic 
spectators  covering  every  available  sj^ot, 
the  scene  being  one  of  the  grandest  ever 
presented  to  the  human  eye. 

On  the  28th  of  June,  the  splendid  ship 
made  her  appearance  in  the  harbor  of 
New  York,  reaching  the  light-ship  at 
half-past  seven  in  the  morning.  There 
she  anchored ;  at  two  o'clock,  in  the 
afternoon,  high  Avater,  she  crossed  the 
bar,  and  proceeded  to  the  citj',  arriving 
at  her  dock  at  six  p.  M.  The  event 
created  the  greatest  excitement  through- 
out the  city ;  business  was  generally 
neglected,  and  multitudes  of  people 
thronged  the  wharves  and  roofs  to  get 
a  glance  at  the  monster. 

Some  account  of  the  voyage  will  be 
interesting  at  this  point.  She  left  the 
Needles  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  forenoon, 
June  17th.  With  the  exception  of  two 
dajs,  she  experienced  fine  weallier. 
She  steamed  the  entire  passage,  ranging 
from  254  to  333  miles  per  twenty-four 
hours.  The  engines  were  not  stopped 
until  she  was  off  George's  Shoal,  for 
soundings.  She  came  in  a  route  south- 
east, direct  to  the  light-ship,  where  she 
was  boarded  by  the  ship  news-collector 
and  Mr.  John  Van  Dusen,  of  pilot  boat 
Washington,  No.  4,  a  business  partner 
of  Admiral  Murjihy,  who  went  out  to 
Southampton  for  the  ship.  She  drew 
twenty-seven  feet  of  water  aft,  but  was 
trimmed  to  an  even  keel  before  crossing 
the  bar.  The  following  is  the  number  of 
miles  made  per  day :  June  1 7,  285  miles ; 
18th,  296;  19th,  — ;  20th,  276;  21st, 
304;  22d,  280;  23d,  302;  24th,  299; 
25th,    S25j    26th,    533}    27th,    254. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


745 


The  highest  speed  nttained  was  fourteen 
and  a  luilf  knots;  but  the  ship's  bottom 
being  foul,  an  allowance  of  at  least  two 
knots  an  hour  should  be  made  on  that 
account.  The  distance  from  Southampton 
is  reckoned  at  three  thousand  one  hundred 
and  ninety  miles,  but  to  avoid  the  ice  she 
went  further  south. 

The  operation  of  crossing  the  bar  was  a 
delicate  and  critical  one.  The  order  was 
finall}'  given  by  ]\Ir.  Murphy,  under  wliose 
command  the  ship  had  now  passed,  to  "■  Go 
ahead."  The  engineer  waved  liis  liand, 
the  oflficer  below  repeated  the  order  to 
those  still  further  below,  and  in  a  miniite 
the  great  wheels  commenced  their  revolu- 
tions. The  stupendous  fabric  yielded  to 
the  mighty  jiower  within  her  bowels,  and, 
moving  slowly  on  its  way,  commenced,  as 
it  were,  a  triumphal  march  toward  the 
cit}'.  Gradually  the  point  of  danger  was 
approached — the  perilous  bar  was  at  hand. 
Speed  Avas  accordingly  slackened,  and  Mr. 
Murphy  from  his  position  silently  gave  his 
orders.  A  simple  elevation  or  depression 
of  the  hand  indicated  to  the  helmsmen  the 
course  to  be  pursued,  and  the  ship  under 
this  skillful  guidance — obeying  her  helm 
with  almost  the  readiness  of  a  sail  boat — 
proceeded  on  her  way. 

Passing  Fort  Lafa^'ette,  a  salute  Avas 
fired,  which  was  promptly  responded  to 
from  the  four  guns  of  the  Great  Eastern, 
and  from  this  time  onward,  vmtil  her  ar- 
rival in  the  North  River,  it  was  one  con- 
tinual ovation  to  the  distinguished  stranger. 
Cannon  boomed,  steam  whistles  shrieked 
until  almost  wheezy,  flags  were  dipped  in 
graceful  welcome,  people  hurrahed,  hand- 
kerchiefs waved,  swift-tleeting  yachts  dash- 
ed along  in  the  huge  shadow  under  a  cloud 
of  canvas,  as  if  bowing  in  acknowledgment 
of  the  superior  towering  above  them,  and 
demonstrations  of  a  kindly  nature  came 
from  every  quarter.  Indeed,  as  far  as  the 
eye  could  see,  the  tops  of  houses  in  New 
York  and  its  suburbs  were  thronged  with 
people  excited  to  the  highest  degree  of 
curiosity  and  enthusiasm.  The  battery 
was  fairly  black  with  the  dense  multitude, 
and  wharves,   shipping,  and  every  other 


foothold  commanding  a  view  of  the  scene, 
presented  the  same  animated  ai)pearance. 

As  the  vessel  neared  the  city,  the  interest 
of  the  occasion  became,  if  possible,  more  and 
more  manifest.  Hundreds  of  little  craft 
shot  out  into  the  stream,  and  fell  in  the 
wake  of  the  Great  Eastern.  Looking  down 
from  her  foretop — an  elevation  almost  equal 
to  that  of  the  tallest  ordinary  mast  —  it 
seemed  like  a  fairy  spectacle  on  the  grand- 
est scale.  Below  was  the  beautiful  outline 
of  the  largest  steamer  in  the  world,  gliding 
so  majestically  and  quietly  through  the 
water  that  her  motion  was  hardly  percepti- 
ble, while  behind,  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach — commencing  with  a  few  fast  steam- 
ers at  the  stern — spread  out  the  escort  in 
the  shape  of  an  immense  fan,  every  fold  of 
which  was  quivering  with  beautifvd  life. 
AVhen  nearly  off  the  batter}',  the  chimes 
of  Trinity  Church  were  heard  across  the 
water,  playing  "  Rule  Britannia."  Sa- 
lutes, also,  were  fired  from  all  the  steamers 
in  port,  not  excepting,  of  course,  the 
Cunarders  at  Jersey  City,  which,  on  this 
occasion,  did  extra  honors. 

Before  landing,  the  Great  Eastern  pro- 
ceeded up  the  North  River,  as  far  as  Eorty- 
fifth  street ;  but  the  distance  was  hardly 
perceptible.  Here,  after  some  difificulty, 
she  was  turned  and  headed  down  stream 
for  her  dock,  where,  contrary  to  general 
expectation,  she  was  at  once  moored.  The 
manner  in  which  this  was  done,  reflected 
the  highest  credit  on  Mr.  Murphy,  the 
pilot ;  and  the  reader  can  appreciate  the 
daring  nature  of  the  undertaking  by  con- 
sidering the  fact  that  the  immense  ship 
was  carried  alongside  by  the  pilot — to  the 
no  small  astonishment  of  every  individual 
on  board,  including  the  officers, — with  as 
much  ease,  apparently,  as  he  would  have 
handled  his  own  pilot-boat,  governed  alone 
by  her  own  impetus,  and  without  the  aid 
even  of  a  single  friendly  hawser  from  a 
steam  tug.  Here  she  was  made  to  touch 
the  dock  in  a  gentle  way,  clipping  off  only 
a  splinter,  comparatively,  as  she  came 
alongside :  hawsers  were  got  out,  the  pas- 
sengers' luggage  was  duly  inspected  and 
removed,   a  varm-hearted   good-bye   was 


746 


OUE  riKST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


said  all  around,  the  company  departed  for 
their  resjjective  destinations,  and  the 
Great  Eastei'n  quietly  settled  her  huge 
hodj"  into  its  temporary  rest.  Strange  to 
say,  only  forty-three  passengers  could  be 
found  in  the  year  1860  to  "venture"  on 
the  first  voyage  of  the  most  splendid  ship 
that  ever  floated  in  the  ocean ;  but  this 
was  owing,  of  course,  to  the  novelty  and 
vastness  of  the  experiment,  and  to  the 
serious  doubts  which  had  been  so  freely 
expressed  from  the  very  first  conception  of 
the  enterprise,  as  to  the  manageableness  of 
such  a  vessel  in  a  storm  at  sea. 

For  many  weeks,  the  Great  Eastern  was 
visited  by  tens  of  thousands  of  persons, 
who  gladly  paid  the  admission  fee  charged, 
to  inspect  the  majestic  structure.  They 
saw,  in  the  Great  Eastern,  a  ship  twice  as 
long  (six  hundred  and  eighty  feet)  as  the 
United  States  frigate  Niagara,  and  nearly 
five  times  the  tonnage  (about  twenty  thou- 
sand) of  that  giant  of  the  American  navy. 
Four  times  up  and  down  her  deck  will 
make  a  mile's  walk.  Built  wholly  of  iron 
plates,  the  greatest  possible  amount  of 
strength  seemed  to  be  thus  attained.  Each 
plate  was  separately  designed  by  the 
builder,  Mr.  Brunei,  and  there  are  but  a 
few  amidships,  out  of  the  whole  ten  thou- 
sand, which  resemble  each  other  in  shape. 
He  made  an  exhct  pattern  in  wood  of  each  ; 
steam  shears  cut  the  plates  of  iron  to 
match,  a  steam  roller  curved  them  to  suit, 
and  a  steam  punch  punched  holes  for 
the  bolts  ;  these  were  applied  at  a  white 
heat  and  riveted  close — the  contraction 
which  occurred  when  they  cooled  draw- 
ing the  plates  together  with  irresist- 
ible force.  Ten  thousand  tons  of  iron,  in 
thirty  thousand  plates  and  three  hundred 
thousand  rivets,  were  employed  in  the 
construction  of  her  hull.  With  accom- 
modations for  four  thousand  passengers, 
she  can  carry  instead,  if  need  be,  ten 
thousand  soldiers,  in  addition  to  her  crew 
of  four  hundred. 

The  weight  of  this  luige  ship  being 
twelve  thousand  tons,  and  coal  and  cargo 
about  eighteen  thousand  tons  more,  the 
motive  power  to  propel  her  must  of  course 


be  proportionate;  and  it  was  this  feature 
in  the  majestic  ship,  not  less  than  her 
immense  size,  which  astonished  the  visitor. 
As  he  walked  aft,  and  looked  down  a  deep 
chasm  near  the  stern,  he  perceived  an 
enormous  metal  shaft,  one  hundred  and 
sixty  feet  in  length,  and  weighing  sixty 
tons ;  this  extends  from  the  engine-room 
nearest  the  stern  to  the  extremity  of  the 
vessel,  and  is  what  moves  the  screw.  As 
the  visitor  next  walked  forward,  and  looked 
over  the  side,  he  saw  the  immense  paddle- 
wheel,  which,  with  its  fellow,  is  driven  by 
the  four  great  engines,  already  described, 
having  a  nominal  power  of  one  thousand 
horses,  the  nominal  horse-pouer  of  the 
screw  being  rated  at  sixteen  hundred. 
The  screw  engines,  when  making  fifty  rev- 
olutions a  minute,  exert  an  effective  force 
of  not  less  than  eight  thousand  horses. 
This  gigantic  force  would  drive  the  ma- 
chinery of  forty  of  the  largest  cotton  mills, 
giving  employment  to  from  thirty  to  forty 
thousand  operatives. 

For  several  weeks,  this  grandest  of  nau- 
tical structures  was  the  chief  object  of 
attraction  in  the  United  States,  and  Avas 
pronounced,  by  all,  the  most  superb  con- 
ception— the  most  wonderful  achievement 
— of  human  mind  and  skill.  Large  excur- 
sion parties  came  from  all  the  principal 
cities  of  the  Union,  to  view  her  lofty  walls 
of  iron,  her  stupendous  machinery,  and  her 
marvelous  internal  arrangements;  and,  in 
due  time,  opportunity  was  afforded  those 
who  wished  to  witness  her  sailing  quali- 
ties, to  be  carried  by  the  noble  ship,  on 
pleasure  excursions  to  Cape  May  and  else- 
where,—  a  privilege  which  thousands 
availed  themselves  of,  including  many  per- 
sons eminent  in  nautical  and  scientific 
matters. 

One  fact,  for  certain,  in  the  construction 
and  appointments  of  this  mighty  ship,  was 
made  manifest  to  the  satisfaction  of  even 
the  most  critical,  namely,  that  no  discov- 
ery or  invention  of  modern  times,  capable 
of  contributing  to  the  ship's  strength, 
safety,  and  perfect  completeness,  was  lost 
sight  of.  Thus,  the  observer  saw  that  she 
was  built  in  sixteen  water-tight  compart- 


GllEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


747 


ments ;  ton  walls  of  iron,  at  distances  of 
sixty  feet  from  each  other,  dividing  her 
transversely;  and  a  longitudinal  wall  bi- 
secting her  for  about  half  her  length  ; — so 
that,  in  case  of  her  running  upon  a  rock,  or 
being  shattered  by  storms,  there  would  still 
be  safety  on  board.      She  is  also  lighted 


throughout  with  gas,  made  on  board,  and, 
on  dark  nights,  an  electric  light  shines 
from  the  maintop ;  the  anchor  is  weighed, 
the  sails  hoisted,  and  the  pumps  worked, 
by  steam ;  and  electric  telegraphs  enable 
the  captain  to  communicate  instantane- 
ously with  the  most  remote  officers. 


LXXXVII. 

GENERAL     WALKER'S     FILLIBUSTERING    EXPEDITIONS 
TO  SONORA,  NICARAGUA,  AND  HONDURAS.— 1860. 


Character,  Method,  and  Object  of  His  Schemes. — His  Movements  Marked  by  Bloodshed  and  Bold 
Usurpation  of  Authority. — Retreat,  Capture,  and  Court-Martial  at  Truxillo. — Cool  l^esignation  to 
His  Death  Sentence  — Solemn  March  to  the  Piace  of  Execution. — Is  Shot,  and  Instantly  Expires. — 
Walker's  "  Star  of  Destiny." — Shortsighted  Calculations. — Daring  Qualities  of  the  Man  — Bitter  Luck 
in  Sonora. — Starvation :  Inglorious  Flight. — Nicaragua  the  Land  of  Promise. — Contempt  of  Neutrality 
Laws — United  States  Officials  Outwitted. — Champagne  i;s.  Handcuffs. — Battles  at  Rivas  and  Virgin 
Bay. — Splendid  Successes  of  Walker. — Styles  Himself"  the  Regenerator.'' — Treaty  between  Generals 
Walker  and  Corral. — Corral  Charged  with  Treason  and  Shot. — Combination  Against  Walker. — His 
Escape  to  the  United  States — Xew  but  Abortive  Attempts  on  Nicaragua. — Turns  Up  Next  at 
Truxillo. — Is  Defeated  by  the  Honduras  Troops. — His  Doom  Announced  to  Him. — Dying  Declara- 
tions— A  Volley;  Three  Cheers;  the  End. 


'Those  who  accompanied  me  are  not  to  blame.    I  alone  am  guilty.    I  askj^ardon  of  the  people,"— Walk EB's  Last  Words. 


EXECUTION  OF  GENERAL  WALKER. 


IXED  and  immovaLle  in  the  belief  that  hit* 
"  star  of  destiny "  would  guide  him  to  ulti- 
mate success  as  a  military  conqueror  and  place  the  scep- 
ter of  power  in  his  hands,  William  Walker  hlindly  misinterpreted  the  "handwriting 
on  the  wall,"  which  the  successive  defeats  of  his  various  fillibustering  expeditions  had 
made  so  obvious  to  the  understanding  of  others.  Few  adventurers  of  his  class  ever  ran 
such  a  race  of  shortsighted  and  fatal  folly,  and,  thougli  not  without  admiring  friends 
and  followers,  but  little  patriotic  sympathy  was  evoked  by  the  event  which  suddenly 
closed  his  career. 

The  daring  character  of  Walker  as  a  fillibuster  is  a  matter  of  astonishment,  viewed 
from  the  present  point  of  time  and  history.  In  October,  1853,  he  was  the  leader  of  an 
expedition  which  sailed  from  San  Francisco,  with  the  intention  of  taking  possession  of 
Sonora,  then  a  northern  state  of  Mexico,  adjoining  California.  He  landed  at  a  small 
place  on  the  coast,  called  La  Paz,  with  some  fifty  or  sixty  men,  where  he  met  but  little 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


749 


resistance.  He  proclaimed  "  an  independ- 
ent Republic  of  Lower  California,"  and 
himself  president,  at  the  same  time  ap- 
pointing each  one  of  his  party  to  some 
official  station.  He  very  soon,  however, 
had  to  evacuate  the  premises,  to  save  him- 
self from  starvation,  escaping  to  San  Diego, 
where  he  surrendered  himself  to  the 
United  States  authorities.  On  his  arrival 
in  San  Francisco,  he  was  tried  for  a  viola- 
tion of  the  neutrality  laws,  but  was  ac- 
quitted, the  people  in  that  part  of  the 
country  sympathizing  with  him. 

Early  in  the  summer  of  1855,  he  placed 
himself  at  the  head  of  an  expedition,  num- 
bering about  sixty  men,  for  Nicaragua, 
then  in  a  state  of  internal  conflict,  and, 
notwithstanding  the  Avatch  kept  upon  his 
movements  by  the  government  officials,  he 
managed  to  get  all  his  men  on  board  the 
brig  Vesta,  which  then  lay  in  the  harbor 
of  San  Francisco,  and  to  set  sail  during 
the  night.  The  vessel  was  at  this  very 
time  under  seizure,  and  a  deputy-sheriff's 
officer  had  possession.  At  midnight,  on 
Monday,  jMny  4th,  Walker  requested  the 
sheriff's  officer  to  step  below  to  examine 
some  documents  in  the  cabin.  The  unsus- 
pecting official  complied.  Tlie  door  shut, 
he  was  informed  that  he  was  a  prisoner. 
In  a  slow,  drawling  voice.  Walker  said — 

"  There,  sir,  are  cigars  and  champagne  ; 
and  there  are  handcnjfs  and  irons.  Pray 
take  your  choice." 

The  deputy,  a  sensible  man,  took  the 
former,  and  was  in  a  happy  frame  of  mind 
when  he  found  himself  being  jdaced  on 
board  the  steam-tug  to  be  taken  back  to 
the  scene  of  his  official  duties, — a  wiser 
and  more  thoughtful  man,  doubtless. 

Walker  landed  at  the  port  of  Realejo, 
and  marched  to  Leon  to  join  the  head- 
quarters of  the  Nicaraguan  democratic 
party  or  army.  The  legitimists,  however, 
though  in  a  state  of  great  consternation  at 
the  approach  of  American  rifles,  had  pre- 
pared to  give  Walker  a  warm  reception. 
Proclamations  were  issued  with  the  object 
of  rousing  the  patriotism  of  the  people, 
calling  on  all  to  be  read}'  to  take  up  arms 
to  save  the  independence  of  the  country, 


and  ordering  all  the  inhabitants,  on  the 
aj)proach  of  Walker,  to  retire  to  the  near- 
est garrison. 

The  first  conspicuous  service  in  which 
Walker  and  his  men  were  engaged  was  in 
an  expedition  which  w«s  formed  by  the 
democrats  to  recapture  the  town  of  Rivas. 
The  expeditionary  force  consisted  of 
Walker's  men,  and  two  hundred  native 
troops  under  the  immediate  command  of 
their  own  officers.  They  embarked  at 
Realejo,  in  two  or  three  small  vessels,  and, 
landing  in  the  neighborhood  of  San  Juan 
del  Sur,  marched  across  the  country  upon 
the  town  of  Rivas,  distant  about  twenty- 
five  miles.  The  people  of  Rivas,  when 
the  legitimists  re-took  the  town  some 
months  previously,  had  returned  from 
their  voluntary  exile  in  Costa  Rica,  and 
now  roused  themselves  to  make  a  stout 
resistance.  When  the  democrats  arrived, 
and  the  fight  began.  Walker  was  inglori~ 
ously  deserted  by  all  the  native  troops, 
and  he  found  himself,  Avith  his  fifty-six 
Americans,  opposed  to  a  force  of  nearly 
five  hundred.  His  party,  however,  had 
taken  up  their  position  in  a  house,  from 
which  their  rifles  dealt  sudden  death  most 
profusely  ;  but  at  last  they  expended  their 
ammunition,  and  the  legitimists  setting 
fire  to  the  house,  they  were  obliged  to  cut 
their  way  through  them,  and  retired  to 
San  Juan  del  Sur.  1  he  loss  on  Walker's 
side,  in  this  affair,  was  only  ten,  \\]\\\e  of 
his  opponents  one  hundred  and  eighty 
were  either  killed  or  wonnded. 

At  San  Juan  del  Sur  they  found  a  small 
schooner  to  take  them  back  to  Realejo. 
He  and  his  men  had  all  embarked  quietly 
in  the  evening  on  board  the  schooner, 
which  was  lying  in  the  harbor,  and  were 
waiting  till  morning  for  a  breeze,  when, 
about  midnight,  two  Americans,  who  did 
not  belong  to  the  Walker  party,  and  were 
well  known  to  be  desperate  characters,  set 
fire  to  a  large  wooden  building  which  was 
used  as  a  barrack;  their  object  being  to 
burn  the  town,  and  take  the  opportunity 
of  the  confusion  to  rob  and  plunder  the 
inhabitants,  expecting,  no  doubt,  that 
Walker's  party  would  join  them.     But,  on 


750 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


going  on  board  one  of  Walker's  vessels, 
and  boasting  of  what  they  had  done,  he 
immediately  arrested  them,  and,  as  there 
were  no  authorities  ashore  to  whom  he 
could  hand  them  over,  he  had  them  tried 
by  a  court-martial  at  once,  by  which  they 
were  sentenced  to  be  shot.  One  was  shot 
while  endeavoring  to  make  his  escape  in  a 
boat;  the  other  was  taken  ashore  to  be 
shot,  where,  in  the  darkness  of  the  night, 
he  managed  to  escape  from  his  guards. 

About  a  month  before  this  time.  Gen- 
eral Chamorro,  chief  of  the  legitimist 
party,  died,  and  was  succeeded  by  General 
Corral,  who  had  already  been  actually  in 
command  for  some  time.  Walker  did  not 
attempt  another  descent  upon  that  part  of 
the  country  till  the  month  of  August,  when 
he  landed  at  San  Juan  del  Sur,  with  about 
seventy-five  Americans  and  two  hundred 
native  troops.  There  he  met  with  no 
opposition,  the  forces  of  the  legitimists 
being  all  concentrated  in  the  town  of 
Rivas.  He  shortly  marched  to  the  village 
of  Virgin  Bay,  on  the  lake ;  while  there, 
he  was  attacked  by  a  vastly  superior  force 
of  legitimists  under  General  Guardiola. 
The  fight  lasted  several  hours,  but  Walker 
succeeded  in  driving  them  back  to  Rivas 
with  considerable  loss.  After  this,  he 
again  returned  to  San  Juan  del  Sur. 

In  the  month  of  October,  Walker — now 
holding  a  regular  commission  as  com- 
mander-in-chief of  the  democratic  army, 
and,  having  gradually  augmented  the 
number  of  Americans  under  his  command 
to  two  hundred,  and  having  a  force  of  two 
hundred  and  fifty  native  troops,  —  pro- 
ceeded to  Virgin  Bay,  and  taking  posses- 
sion of  one  of  the  Transit  Company's 
steamers,  he  embarked  his  whole  force. 
After  a  few  hours'  passage  he  landed  his 
troops  about  two  miles  from  Granada,  and 
marched  directly  on  that  stronghold  of  the 
legitimists.  General  Corral  was  in  Rivas, 
with  the  greater  part  of  his  forces,  expect- 
ing Walker  would  make  that  the  first 
point  of  attack.  The  garrison  in  Granada 
were  completely  taken  by  surprise,  and, 
after  firing  but  a  few  shots,  Walker  had 
full  possession  of  the  city,  and  his  power 


in  Nicaragua  was  complete.  Walker  had 
always  claimed  to  be  the  ^'Regenerator  of 
Central  America^ 

A  negotiation  was  afterwards  entered 
into,  which  resulted  in  a  treaty  of  peace 
being  agreed  upon,  and  signed  by  Walker 
and  Corral,  as  the  representatives  of  their 
respective  parties.  By  this  treaty,  it  was 
agreed  that  the  two  governments  which 
had  existed  in  the  country  since  the  com- 
mencement of  the  revolution,  should  cease. 


Don  Patricio  Rivas  was  declared  provis- 
ional president  for  fourteen  months,  and 
Walker  was  made  general-in-chief  of  the 
army ;  these,  with  four  ministers  to  be 
appointed  by  the  president,  were  to  form 
the  government. 

General  Corral,  a  day  or  two  afterwards, 
entered  the  city  of  Granada  with  his 
troops,  and  was  received  b}-^  Walker.  The 
two  generals  then  went  through  an  impos- 
ing ceremony  of  solemnly  ratifj-ing  the 
treaty  in  church.  A  Te  Deum  was  sung, 
the  legitimist  troops  were  joined  to  the 
democrats,  becoming  one  army  under  the 
command  of  Walker,  and  the  ministei's  of 
state  were  then  announced. 

As  the  people  found  Walker  to  be  a  man 
of  ability,  and  maintaining  strict  discipline 
among  his  troops,  tranquillity  soon  pre- 
vailed throughout  the  land,  the  inhabit- 
ants being  glad  to  see  an  end  to  those 
scenes  of  plunder  and  excess  which  had 
characterized  the  domestic  struggles 
through  which  they  had  so  often  and  so 


GRF.AT  AND  INIEMORAIJLE  EVENTS. 


•51 


recently  passed.  And  even  foreign  gov- 
ernments looked  with  satisfaction  on  the 
apparently  improved  state  of  affaii's  in  that 
long  distracted  country.  It  was  not,  how- 
over,  to  last  long.  A  short  time  onl}', 
after  Walker's  old  foe.  Corral,  had  sol- 
emnly ratified  the  treat}',  he  was  charged 
by  Walker  with  plotting  to  upset  the  gov- 
ernment. He  was  immediately  tried  by  a 
court-martial,  over  which  Walker  himself 
presided,  and,  being  declared  guilty,  he 
•was  sentenced  to  be  shot  the  next  day. 
He  was  executed  in  the  Plaza  of  Granada, 
in  presence  of  the  Avhole  army. 

A  few  more  military  successes  greatly 
emboldened  Walker,  and,  having  in  the 
summer  of  1856  caused  himself  to  be 
elected  president,  it  Avas  not  long  before 
he  entered  upon  a  career  which  brought 
him  to  an  ignominious  end.  He  revoked 
by  a  decree  the  prohibition  of  slavery 
which  the  country  had  observed  for  more 
than  thirty  years.  He  also  revoked,  with- 
out cause,  the  transit  grant  to  the  Nicara- 
gua Company,  and  seized  steamers  be- 
longing to  American  citizens.  He  made 
war  upon  Costa  Rica,  the  result  proving  to 
his  cause  one  of  defeat,  disaster,  disap- 
pointment, and  distress.  The  Nicara- 
guans  and  Costa  Ricans  combined  against 
him,  drove  him  from  place  to  place,  until, 
resistance  becoming  hopeless,  he  gladly 
availed  himself  of  the  refuge  afforded  by 
the  United  States  sloop-of-war  St.  Mary, 
Commodore  Davis,  on  board  of  which  he 
and  a  number  of  his  followers  were  re- 
ceived, in  due  time  reaching  the  United 
States. 

Walker's  third  and  fourth  expeditions, 
sailing  from  New  Orleans  and  Mobile,  and 
directed  against  Nicaragua,  were  hasty, 
ill-planned,  and  miserably  failed.  But 
this  did  not  deter  Walker  from  undertak- 
ing one  more  scheme  of  conquest — in  this 
instance  directed  against  the  Bay  of  Isl- 
ands, just  then  being  ceded  by  Great 
Britain  to  Honduras.  For,  though  Walker 
had  long  accustomed  himself  to  look  upon 
Nicaragua  as  the  land  which  was  to  real- 
ize to  him  all  his  golden  visions  of  wealth 
and  power,  there  seemed  now,  even  to  his 


fertile  imagination,  no  hope  of  ever  again 
obtaining  any  such  foothold  in  that  coun- 
try as  would  lead  to  its  subjugation. 

It  is  a  mistake,  too,  to  suj)pose  that  in 
the  management  of  those  Nicaraguan  ex- 
peditions. Walker  was  acting  without  pub- 
lic sympathy  at  the  south  and  in  Cali- 
fornia. The  following  account  of  the 
scenes  and  circumstances  attending  the 
embarkation  of  re-enforcements  from  San 
Francisco,  to  join  Walker  at  Nicaragua,  on 
the  occasion  already  alluded  to,  will  show 
that  there  was  no  lack  of  enthusiasm  for 
his  cause,  at  least  in  certain  sections. 

The  vessel  (to  convey  the  above-named 
re-enforcements)  was  advertised  to  sail  at 
nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  but  long  be- 
fore that  hour  the  wharf  was  crowded  with 
spectators  and  those  interested  in  the  suc- 
cess of  the  expeditionists.  Nearly  four 
hundred  through  passage  tickets  were  sold 
before  the  appointed  sailing  hour,  and 
officers  were  stationed  in  every  part  of 
the  vessel,  with  positive  orders  to  allow 
no  one  on  board  unless  provided  with  a 
passage  ticket.  There  seemed  to  be  no 
disposition  to  infringe  this  order,  and 
everything  went  on  quietly  until  about 
noon,  when  it  was  discovered  that  some  of 
the  passengers  were  in  possession  of  arms 
belonging  to  the  San  Francisco  Blues'  mil- 
itary corps.  A  search-warrant  was  imme- 
diately procured,  and  twenty-nine  muskets, 
identified  by  members  of  the  company 
named,  were  recovered.  During  this  in- 
vestigation, two  large  crockery  crates,  full 
of  arms,  were  discovered,  and  which  proved 
to  have  been  taken  from  the  armory  of  the 
Sacramento  Rifle  Company.  General  Kib- 
bee,  of  the  state  militia,  being  notified  of 
the  fact,  at  once  instituted  legal  proceed- 
ings to  recover  the  arms,  but  before  the 
necessary  documents  could  be  procured 
and  placed  in  the  sheriff's  hands,  the  hour 
— already  extended  to  four  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon — for  the  sailing  of  the  steamer 
had  arrived.  As  the  lines  holding  the 
vessel  to  the  whai'f  were  cast  adrift,  there 
was  some  indication  of  trouble  between  the 
officers  of  the  vessel  and  those  persons  on 
the  wharf  anxious  to  obtain  passage.    The 


752 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1S76. 


wharf  was  densely  packed  with  men,  and 
at  the  first  move  of  the  steamer's  j^addles, 
a  general  rush  was  made  to  board  her. 
The  officers  of  the  boat  resisted,  and  the 
body  of  the  crowd  was  driven  back,  at  the 
imminent  risk  of  their  being  crushed 
between  the  vessel  and  the  wharf,  or 
launched  overboard.  About  fifteen  or 
twenty  succeeded  in  getting  on  board, 
during  this  frightful  scene,  and  tlie  vessel 
shot  out  into  the  stream,  where  she  came 
to,  evidently  with  the  view  of  compelling 


when  she  was  ordered  to  keep  off,  and  at 
the  same  time  the  steamer  commenced 
moving  ahead.  It  was  now  beyond  the 
power  of  the  schooner  to  work  up  to  the 
position  of  the  steamer  until  the  latter 
would  have  sufficient  time  to  send  the 
intruders  ashore  and  get  under  way  again. 
Still  the  schooner  persevered,  and  stood  off 
for  another  tack.  In  the  meantime,  a 
posse  of  sheriff's  officers,  headed  by  J\[r. 
Dowdigan,  with  the  writ  of  restitution, 
had  procured  a  row-boat  for  the  purpose  of 


LANDING  OF  GKXEUAL  WALKER'S  FILLIBCSTF.niNO   EXPEDITION  AT  TRUXILLO. 


those  to  return  on  shore  who  had  suc- 
ceeded in  boarding  the  vessel  by  force. 
By  this  time,  the  expeditionists,  to  the 
number  of  three  hundred,  had  chartered  a 
large  schooner  lying  convenient  to  the 
wharf.  This  movement  was  seen  on  board 
the  steamer,  and  as  the  schooner  spread 
her  canvas,  the  steamer's  ])iiddlos  were 
again  put  in  motion  ;  but  she  had  not  pro- 
ceeded far  when  she  again  lay-to.  The 
schooner  was  now  under  full  hendwny  with 
a  fine  breeze,  and,  tacking  r^uichly,  she 
came   up   under   the   lee   of  the   steamer, 


boarding  the  steamer.  This  they  were 
unable  to  accompli>li,  as  the  steamer  got 
under  wa}^  just  as  the  sheriff's  boat  reached 
her  side,  and  was  soon  under  full  head  of 
steam,  with  her  bows  directed  seaward. 
The  rchooner  landed  the  disappointed 
expeditionists  at  the  wharf;  and  a  large 
number  of  ships'  launches  and  other  small 
craft,  filled  with  men  who  evidently  in- 
tended to  take  the  first  opi)ortunity  to 
Itoard  the  steamer,  put  back  to  the  shore. 
It  seemed  to  be  the  universal  im])res8ion 
that    the    schooner's    load    would  be  per- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORAIJLE  EVENTS. 


•753 


mitted  to  board,  as  it  was  rumored  tliat 
they  had  by  some  means  obtained  pas- 
sa<Te  tickets  just  as  the  steamer  left  the 
wliarf.  This,  however,  proved  erroneous. 
Among  the  number  who  attempted  to 
board  in  small  boats,  was  a  man  named 
Henry  Gray,  who  strenuously  persisted 
in  his  endeavors  to  get  on  board  the 
steamer,  although  forcibly  resisted  by 
the  officer.  At  last.  Gray  drew  a  revolver 
and  pointed  it  at  the  officer,  who  also 
drew  his  pistol,  when  the  boatmen  in 
the  boat  with  Gray  covered  his  person 
with  their  own. 

In  New  York  cit}'^,  a  mass  meeting  was 
held,  at  which  the  warmest  speeches  and 
resolutions  of  sympathy  for  Walker  and 
his  movements  were  indulged  in.  Even 
General  Cass  lent  the  scheme  his  warm 
support.  "  I  am  free  to  confess,"  he  said, 
"  that  the  heroic  effort  of  our  countrymen 
in  Nicaragua  excites  my  admiration,  while 
it  engages  all  my  solicitude.  I  am  not  to 
be  deterred  from  the  expression  of  these 
feelings  by  sneers,  or  reproaches,  or  hard 
words.  He  who  does  not  sympathize  with 
such  an  enterprise  has  little  in  common 
with  me.  The  difficulties  which  General 
Walker  has  encountered  and  overcome  will 
place  his  name  high  on  the  roll  of  the  dis- 
tinguished men  of  his  age.  He  has  con- 
ciliated the  people  he  went  to  aid,  the 
government  of  which  he  makes  part  is 
performing  its  functions  without  opposi- 
tion, and  internal  tranquillity  marks  the 
wisdom  of  its  policy.  That  magnificent 
region,  for  which  God  has  done  so  much 
and  man  so  little,  needed  some  renovating 
process,  some  transfusion,  by  which  new 
life  may  be  imparted  to  it."  That  some, 
at  least,  of  the  views  thus  so  enthusiasti- 
cally expressed  by  the  venerable  statesman, 
failed  of  fulfillment,  must  be  attributed  to 
Walker's  own  injudicious  acts,  in  the  con- 
demnation of  which  none  were  more  em- 
phatic than  some  of  those  who  stood  by  his 
side  and  shared  his  fortunes. 

But,  as  already  remarked,  Walker's  ca- 
reer came  to  a  speedy  and  inglorious  ter- 
mination when  he  undertook  to  plant  1  U 
standard  of  usurpation  at  Honduras.     It 
48 


was  in  June,  1860,  that  he  first  landed  at 
Ruatan,  but  finding  things  there  not  in  a 
very  favorable  position  for  the  success  of 
his  movements,  he  proceeded  to  Truxillo, 
in  the  taking  of  wdiich  place  he  had  three 
men  wounded,  while  the  loss  on  the  other 
side  was  twelve  killed  and  eighteen 
wounded,  the  determination  of  the  in- 
habitants to  resist  and  defeat  Walker's 
schemes  being  very  resolute. 

A  proclamation  was  now  issued  by 
Walker  to  the  people  of  Honduras,  in 
which  he  said,  that,  more  than  five  years 
ago,  he,  with  others,  was  invited  to  the 
republic  of  Nicaragua,  and  was  promised 
certain  rights  and  privileges  on  the  condi- 
tion of  certain  services  rendered  the  state  ; 
that  the  services  required  were  performed, 
liut  the  existing  authorities  of  Honduras 
joined  a  combination  to  drive  him  from 
Central  America.  "  In  the  course  of 
events,"  continues  W^alker,  "the  people  of 
the  Bay  Islands  find  themselves  in  nearly 
the  same  position  the  Americans  held  in 
Nicaragua,  in  November  1855.  The  same 
policy  which  led  Guardiola  to  make  war  on 
us  will  induce  him  to  drive  the  people  of 
the  islands  from  Honduras.  A  knowledge 
of  this  fact  has  led  certain  residents  of  the 
islands  to  call  on  the  adopted  citizens  of 
Nicaragua  to  aid  in  the  maintenance  of 
their  rights  of  person  and  jiroperty ;  but 
no  sooner  had  a  few  adopted  citizens  of 
Nicaragua  answered  this  call  of  the  resi- 
dents of  the  islands  by  repairing  to  Ruatan, 
than  the  acting  authorities  of  Honduras, 
alarmed  for  their  safety,  put  obstacles  in 
the  way  of  carrying  out  the  treaty  of  the 
28th  November,  1859.  Guardiola  delays 
to  receive  the  islands  because  of  the  pres- 
ence of  a  few'  men  he  has  injured ;  and 
thus,  for  party  purposes,  not  only  defeats 
the  territorial  interests  of  Honduras,  but 
thwarts,  for  the  moment,  a  cardinal  object 
of  Central  American  policy.  The  people 
of  the  Bay  Islands  can  be  engrafted  on 
your  republic  only  by  wise  concessions 
properly  made.  The  existing  authorities 
of  Honduras  have,  by  their  past  acts,  given 
proof  that  the}'  would  not  make  the  requi- 
site concessions.     The  same  policy  which 


754 


OUK  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Guard iola  pursued  toward  the  naturalized 
Nicaraguans  prevents  him  from  pursuing 
the  only  course  by  which  Honduras  can 
expect  to  hold  the  islands.  It  becomes, 
therefore,  a  common  object  with  the  natu- 
ralized Nicaraguans,  and  with  the  people 
of  the  Bay  Islands,  to  place  in  the  govern- 
ment of  Honduras  those  who  will  yield  the 
rights  lawfully  required  in  the  two  states. 
Thus  the  Nicaraguans  will  secure  a  return 
to  their  adopted  countrj^,  and  the  Bay 
Islanders  will  obtain  full  guaranties  from 
the  sovereignty  under  which  they  are  to 
be  placed  by  the  treaty  of  the  28tli  No- 
vember, 1859."  General  Walker  con- 
cludes this  proclamation  by  assuring  the 
people  of  Honduras,  that  it  is  not  against 
them,  but  against  the  government,  that  he 
had  come  to  make  wai*. 

Some  of  the  representations  made  in 
Walker's  proclamation  will  be  better  com- 
prehended when  it  is  understood  that,  at 
that  time,  Great  Britain  was  just  ceding  to 
Honduras  the  Bay  Islands ;  but  some  of 
the  Anglo-Saxon  residents  of  those  islands 
objected  strongly  to  such  cession.  Walker 
availed  himself  of  this  state  of  things  to 
carry  out  his  scheme  of  conquest,  but, 
aware  of  his  plans,  Honduras  requested 
Great  Britain  to  retain  her  hold  upon  the 
islands  a  while  longer. 

It  was  not  long  before  Walker  had  to 
confront  an  army  of  seven  hundred  men, 
headed  by  the  governor  of  Honduras,  and 
an  English  man-of-war  lay  near  by  with 
hostile  intent.  On  the  first  of  September 
therefore.  Walker  retreated  from  Truxillo, 
and  retired  lower  down  the  coast  with 
about  eighty  men,  the  Honduras  troops 
being  in  close  pursuit.  After  wandering 
down  the  coast.  Walker  finally  encamped 
on  the  bank  of  the  Rio  Negro. 

On  the  third  of  September,  two  British 
cutters,  carrying  forty  men,  went  up  the 
river ;  and  Captain  Salmon,  of  the  British 
man-of-war  Icarus,  accompanied  by  Gen- 
eral Alvarez,  of  the  Honduran  army,  went 
ashore  and  walked  to  the  house  in  which 
General  Walker  was,  and  asked  an  inter- 
view with  him,  which  was  granted.  Cap- 
tain Salmon — a  burly,  bluff  young  British 


officer,  of  a  very  pompous  and  authoritative 
manner, — introduced  himself  to  General 
Walker,  informed  him  that  Her  Majesty's 
sloop-of-war  Icarus  lay  off  the  mouth  of  the 
river,  and  that  anchored  near  her  was  a 
ship  which  had  on  board  two  hundred  and 
fifty  Honduran  soldiers  ;  and  he  thereupon 
demanded  the  surrender  of  Walker  and  his 
command. 

General  Walker,  with  characteristic  cool- 
ness and  dignity,  contrasting  strongly 
with  the  self-assurance  of  the  British  offi- 
cer, asked  whether  this  demand  was  made 
by  Captain  Salmon  as  a  British  officer,  and 
whether,  if  he  surrendered,  it  would  be  to 
the  British  authorities  ?  To  this  inquiry 
Major  Dolan  and  Captain  West,  who  were 
present  at  the  interview,  solenmly  asserted 
that  Salmon  replied,  "  Yes,  you  surrender 
to  me,  as  a  British  officer."  The  question 
was  repeated  by  Walker,  and  the  same 
answer  given  by  Salmon,  who  rather 
haughtily  and  patronizingly  added,  "  You 
may  thank  me,  too,  that  you  have  a  who'e 
hone  in  your  hodyP  The  general  then  told 
them  that  under  these  circumstances  he 
would  surrender. 

On  the  fourth, — General  Walker  and 
Colonel  Rudler  having  been  taken,  the 
night  before,  under  a  guard,  to  the  Icarus, 
— the  sloop-of-war  weighed  anchor  and 
steamed  up  to  Truxillo,  where  she  arrived 
that  night.  Walker  and  Rudler  were  then 
formally  delivered  over  to  the  Honduran 
authorities. 

The  march  of  the  captured  men  to  pi-ison 
was  slow  and  solemn.  Walker,  at  the 
head  of  his  men,  and  dressed  with  much 
simplicity,  marched,  keei^ing  time  to  the 
beat  of  the  drum,  and  was  the  object  upon 
which  every  e^'e  was  fixed.  As  soon  as 
he  entered  the  prison,  he  was  placed  in 
heavy  irons,  and  being  asked  if  he  needed 
anything,  replied  with  but  one  word — 
'*  Water."  Soon  afterward,  he  sent  for  a 
chaplain,  and,  declaring  his  faith  as  a 
Roman  Catholic,  knelt  at  the  feet  of  the 
priest,  in  front  of  a  small  altar,  on  which 
the  glimmering  light  of  some  candles 
faintlj'  revealed  an  image  of  the  Savior. 
Among  other  things  he  said  to  the  chap- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


755 


lain,  was  the  remark,  "  I  am  resigned  to 
die  ;  my  political  career  is  finished." 

On  the  eleventh,  at  seven  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  Walker  was  informed  that  the 
sentence  of  death  had  heen  passed  upon 
liim  b}' the  court-martial;  his  only  reply 
to  the  fatal  messenger  was  his  asking  at 
what  hour  he  would  be  executed,  and  if  he 
should  have  time  to  write.  On  the  twelfth, 
at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  con- 
demned man  was  marched  to  the  place  of 
execution.  He  showed,  throughout,  the 
greatest  coolness,  not  even  once  changing 
color,  while  walking  from  the  prison  to 
the  plaza  where  he  was  to  be  shot.  Two 
soldiers,  with  drawn  swords,  advanced  in 
front  of  him,  and  three,  with  fixed  bayo- 
nets, followed  behind.  In  his  right  hand 
he  carried  a  hat,  and  in  his  left  a  crucifix, 
without  looking  at  any  one,  and  listening 
to  the  devotional  passages  which  the  priest 
was  reciting  to  him.  He  entered  the 
square,  where,  at  the  place  of  execution, 
the  troops  were  drawn  up,  and  there,  before 
taking  the  fatal   seat,    he   requested   the 


priest  in  attendance,  inasmuch  as  he  him- 
self could  not  sjieak  loud  enough  to  be 
heard,  to  say  : 

"I  am  a  Roman  Catholic.  The  war 
wliich  I  made  on  Honduras,  at  the  sugges- 
tion of  certain  people  at  Ruatan,  was  un- 
just. Those  who  accompanied  me  are  not 
to  blame.  I  alone  am  guilty.  I  ask  par- 
don of  the  people.  I  receive  death  with 
resignation.  Would  that  it  were  one  for 
the  good  of  society." 

He  then  sat  down.  A  file  of  ten  sol- 
diers advanced,  and  fired  on  the  instant. 
He  died  at  once.  The  soldiers  gave  three 
cheers,  and  all  was  over. 

Walker  was  but  thirty-six  years  of  age, 
at  the  time  of  his  death.  In  personal 
appearance,  he  showed  little  of  the  type  of 
a  daring  and  capable  fillibuster,  being 
rather  below  the  middle  size,  slender,  with 
light  hair,  keen  gray  eyes,  high  cheek 
bones, — a  man  of  exceedingly  quiet  de- 
meanor, slow  in  speech,  and  of  a  mild 
expression  of  face.  His  energy,  persever- 
ance, and  courage,  were  undoubted. 


LXXXVIII. 

TOUR    OF    HIS    ROYAL    HIGHNESS,    ALBERT    EDWARD, 
PRINCE    OF    WALES,    THROUGH    THE    UNITED 

STATES.— 1860. 


Frienillj  Letters  between  President  Buchanan  and  Queen  Victoria  on  the  Subject. — The  Prince's  First 
Entrance  into  American  Waters. — Unbounded  Hospitalities  Extended  Him. — Hunting  Excursions, 
Military  Reviews,  Balls,  Illuminations,  etc. — Splendid  Banquet  at  the  White  House  — England's 
Appreciation  of  these  Honors  to  Her  Future  King. — Heir  to  the  British  Throne — Arrival  at  Detroit, 
Chicago,  etc. — Enthusiastic  Crowds  Greet  Him. — His  Way  Completely  Blocked  Up. — On  a  Hunt: 
Fine  Sportsman. — Receptions  at  Various  Cities. — Locomotive  Ride  to  Washington. — Guest  of  Presi- 
dent Buclianan. — Courtesies  and  Ceremonials  — Visit  to  Mount  Vernon. — At  the  Tomb  of  Washing- 
ton.— Unparalleled  Historical  Scene  — He  Plants  a  Tree  at  tiie  Grave  — Rare  Scenes  in  Philadelphia. 
— New  York  and  Boston  Festivities — Present  from  Trinity  Church,  New  Voik. — Greatest  Balls  Ever 
Known. — He  Meets  a  Hunker  Hill  Veteran. — Impressions  of  America — Incidents,  Anecdotes,  Inter- 
views.— His  Looks,  Manners,  Dress,  etc. — Brilliant  Farewell  at  Portland. 


'■  To'i  itiny  he  we'l  nssiired  that  cvorvwhce  in  this  country  he  will  be  greeted  by  the  American  people  in  such  a  manner  as  cannot  fail  to 
be  gratifjing  to  yuur  .M  ije~t.v."— Pkksidk.n  r  Ulciia.na.n   ro  QUKii.N  Viciouia. 


R.  Buchanan's  closing  presidential  A'car  was  ren- 
dered memorable  by  the  visit  to  this  country  of 
Albert  Edward,    Prince  of  Wales,  who,  being 
the   eldest   son   of  Queen   Victoria,    and   great 
grandson  of  George  III., — the  hing  who  waged 
against  America  the  wars  of  177G  and  1812 — 
naturally  riveted  all  eyes,  and  excited  univer- 
sal attention,  as  he  journeyed  from  one  part  of 
the   Union   to  another.     At  the  time    of   this 
visit,  the  prince  was  in  his   nineteenth   year; 
had  been  educated  at  Oxford  University,  and 
was  reputed  a  worthy  son  of  a  good  mother, — 
I     and  destined,  on  the  death  of  the  latter,  to  be 
Kino:    of    the    Briti.sh    realm.     President    Bu- 
chanan,  having  been  informed  of  the  Prince's 
intention  to  make  a  Canadian   tour,  addressed 
■inii  pui.Nci;  oi.-  WALKS  AT  wA.sMiNGToN's  ToMu.    thc  followlug  Icttcr  to  tliB  Queeu,  whicH  was 
presented  by  Mr.  Dallas,  United  States  Minister  at  the  Court  of  St.  James  : 
"To  HEu  Majesty,  Queen  Victoria: 
I  have  learned,  from  the  public  journals,  that  tlie  Prince  of  Wales  is  about  to  visit 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


757 


your  Majesty's  North  American  domin- 
ions. Should  it  be  the  intention  of  His 
Royal  Highness  to  extend  his  visit  to  the 
United  States,  I  need  not  say  how  happy 
I  sliould  be  to  give  him  a  cordial  welcome 
to  Washington. 

You  may  be  well  assured  that  every- 
wliere  in  this  country  he  will  be  greeted 
by  the  American  peojde  in  such  manner 
as  cannot  fail  to  prove  gratifj'ing  to  your 
Majesty.  In  this  they  will  manifest  their 
deep  sense  of  your  domestic  virtues,  as  well 
as  their  convictions  of  your  merits  as  a 
wise,  patriotic,  and    constitutional    sover- 


eign. 


Your  Majesty's  most  obedient  servant, 
James  Buchanan." 

In  reply  to  the  foregoing  highly  courte- 
ous letter,  dated  at  Washington,  June  4, 
1860,  Queen  Victoria  dispatched  the  fol- 
lowing most  happily  worded  response, 
dated  at  Buckingham  Palace,  June  22d  : 

"My  Good  FRiEyD: 

I  have  been  much  gratified  at  the  feel- 
ings which  prompted  you  to  write  to  me, 
inviting  the  Prince  of  Wales  to  come  to 
Washington.  He  intends  to  return  from 
Canada  through  the  United  States,  and  it 
will  give  him  great  pleasure  to  have  an 
opportunity  of  testifj'ing  to  you  in  person 
that  these  feelings  are  fully  reciprocated 
by  him.  He  will  thus  be  able,  at  the  same 
time,  to  mark  the  respect  which  he  enter- 
tains for  the  Chief  Magistrate  of  a  great 
and  powerful  state  and  kindred  nation. 

The  Prince  of  Wales  will  drop  all  royal 
state  on  leaving  my  dominions,  and  travel 
under  the  name  of  Lord  Renfrew,  as  he 
has  done  when  traveling  on  the  continent 
of  Europe. 

The  Prince  Consort  wishes  to  be  kindly 
remembered  to  you. 

I  remain  ever,  your  good  friend, 

Victoria  R." 

It  was  on  the  23d  of  July,  1860,  that 
the  prince  arrived  at  St.  Johns,  N.  F., 
and,  after  journe^ang  for  some  weeks  in 
the  various  British  Provinces,  where  he 
was  received  with  the  most  distinguished 
and  enthusiastic  attentions,  he  finally  en- 


tered American  waters,  between  Windsor, 
Canada,  and  Detroit,  Mich.  When  the 
boat  reached  the  center  of  the  stream,  the 
Mayor  of  Detroit  stepped  forward  and 
said  :  ''Baron  Reiifreiv,  ive  luelcome  you  to 
the  United  States,  tnisting  that  your  visit 
may  he  a  happy  one — that  you  may  long 
remember  it  ivith  pleasure  aiul  satisfac- 
tion.^^ At  least  fifty  thousand  persons 
were  present,  and  when  the  band  struck 
up  The  Star  Spangled  Banner,  the  cheer- 
ing and  enthusiasm  were  tremendous. 

After  witnessing  a  magnificent  illumin- 
ation in  his  honor,  the  next  morning  he 
departed  for  Chicago.  He  was  attended, 
as  usual,  by  his  somewhat  numerous  suite, 
the  Duke  of  Newcastle  being  chief,  A 
magnificent  open  barouche,  drawn  by  four 
superb  white  horses,  had  been  provided  to 
convey  him  from  the  hotel.  The  party 
seated  themselves  in  the  barouche,  when 
the  immense  crowd  gathered  around,  and 
blocked  up  the  avenues  so  thickly  as  to 
make  it  next  to  impossible  to  proceed. 
Cheer  after  cheer  was  given  for  the  baron, 
and  the  wildest  enthusiasm  prevailed. 
The  carriage  was  followed  by  prodigious 
throngs  on  foot,  many  hanging  to  the 
wheels,  while  the  streets  and  sidewalks  on 
the  route  were  so  obstructed  by  people, 
that  the  roysX  party  were  intercepted  at 
every  turn.  Arriving  at  Chicago,  a  vast 
assembly  greeted  him.  Baron  Renfrew 
rode  along  a  line  of  excited  people, — who 
were  kept  from  him  by  ropes, — bowing, 
with  hat  off,  amidst  repeated  cheers.  As 
he  passed,  a  rush  was  finally  made,  and, 
in  spite  of  every  effort  of  the  policemen, 
the  crowd  surged  in  like  the  sea.  Ar- 
riving, at  last,  at  the  hotel,  five  thousand 
persons  were  there  found  gazing  at  the 
windows,  in  almost  perfect  silence  and 
order,  waiting  to  see  the  prince's  shadow 
even.  Here,  the  most  splendid  honors 
and  hospitalities  were  heaped  upon  him, 
exceeding  anything  of  the  kind  ever  be- 
fore known  in  that  young  and  powerful 
city  of  the  west. 

Leaving  Chicago  in  a  special  train  for 
Dwight's  Station — from  which  place  the 
prince  was  to  start  on  a  hunting  excursion. 


758 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


— he  arrived  there  at  dark,  on  Saturday 
evening.  The  next  day,  the  prince  at- 
tended divine  service  at  the  Presbyterian 
church.  In  the  afternoon,  a  courier  ar- 
rived with  dispatches  from  the  queen,  and 
the  party  spent  the  rest  of  the  day  in  read- 
ing their  letters  and  answering  them.  On 
Monday  they  shot  prairie  chickens ;  on 
Tuesday,  they  went  in  pursuit  of  quail, 
and  were  very  successful,  the  prince,  who 
enjoyed  the  sport  highly,  bagging  over  a 
hundred  birds.  His  host,  Mr.  Spencer, 
an  experienced  hunter,  pronounced  the 
prince  an  excellent  sportsman,  handling  a 
gun  finely.  The  whole  party  dressed 
roughly,  and  walked  about  the  village 
smoking  pipes  in  the  most  free-and-easy 
style.  A  couple  of  Irishmen  called  to  see 
the  prince,  who  welcomed  and  shook  hands 
with  them.  Before  leaving  this  place,  he 
expressed  his  regret  that  he  could  not 
make  his  stay  longer,  and  presented  his 
hosts  with  several  beautiful  gifts,  among 
which  was  a  Manton  gun,  etc. 

From  this  place  he  went  to  St.  Louis, 
and  thence  to  Cincinnati.  When  he 
landed  at  the  former  place,  loud  cheers 
greeted  him,  and  the  crowd  surrounded  his 
carriage  to  such  an  extent,  that  he  was 
obliged  to  close  the  windows  of  the  vehi- 
cle ;  the  carriages  of  the  suite  were  also 
driven  in  opposite  directions,  to  divide  the 
throng.  At  the  agricultural  fair  at  St. 
Louis,  the  royal  party  passed  twice  around 
the  arena,  and  then  alighted  in  the  center. 
After  this,  they  ascended  to  the  second 
story  of  the  pagoda,  where  the  band  struck 
up  God  Save  the  Queen.  This  was  followed 
by  Hail  Columbia  and  Yankee  Doodle. 

At  Cincinnati,  the  prince  attended  a  ball 
given  at  the  opera-house,  Saturday  even- 
ing, and  the  next  day  attended  worship  at 
St.  John's  church,  and  heard  a  sermon 
from  Bishop  Mcllvaine.  In  the  evening 
he  dined  with  the  mayor  and  other  citi- 
zens. From  Cincinnati  the  prince  went 
to  Pittsburg;  dined  at  Altona ;  and  ar- 
rived at  Harrisburg  late  in  the  evening  of 
October  2d,  where  he  was  received  by  Gov- 
ernor Packer,  in  the  following  unique  and 
off-hand  address  of  welcome  : 


*'  Lord  Renfrew, — It  affords  me  infinite 
pleasure  to  welcome  your  lordship  to  the 
capital  of  the  commonwealth  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, one  of  the  old  thirteen  colonies  that 
originally  acknowledged  allegiance  to  the 
crown  of  Great  Britain,  and,  notwithstand- 
ing that  allegiance  has  been  severed,  your 
lordship  will  perceive,  by  a  glance  at  that 
long  line  of  colonial  and  state  governors 
(pointing  to  the  portraits  which  adorn  the 
executive  chambers),  that  we  still  have  a 
very,  very  great  veneration  and  regard  for 
our  ancient  rulers.  That  line  of  portraits 
is  almost  a  perfect  type  of  our  American 
families.  We  cannot  follow  our  ancestry 
more  than  a  few  generations  back,  without 
tracing  the  line  to  a  British  red-coat." 

On  the  third  of  October,  he  left  Harris- 
burg, early  in  the  morning,  for  Baltimore 
and  Washington.  On  his  way,  in  descend- 
ing the  mountain,  the  prince  and  his 
friends  rode  upon  the  locomotive,  so  as  to 


obtain  a  better  view  of  the  magnificent 
scenery  of  the  eastern  slope  of  the  Alle- 
ghanies,  and  expressed  themselves  much 
gratified  with  their  ride.  Declining  any 
reception  at  Baltimore,  the  prince  pro- 
ceeded at  once  to  Washington. 

It  would  be  as  impossible  to  describe 
the  varied  honors  and  ceremonials  which 
were  showered  upon  the  prince  during  his 
stay  in  the  nation's  metropolis,  as  to  detail 
the  fetes,  ovations,  and  multitudinous  pa- 
geants, which  attended  him  at  every  prin- 
cipal point  along  his  journey  from  one  end 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


759 


of  the  country  to  the  other.  Suffice  it  to 
say,  in  brief,  that  at  AVasliingtou  lie  was 
received  by  General  Cass,  secretary  of 
state,  and  two  nephews  of  President  Bu- 
chanan. He  was  at  once  conducted  to  the 
White  House,  where  he  was  welcomed  by 
the  president.  At  six  o'clock  he  dined, 
the  members  of  the  cabinet  and  one  or  two 
senators  with  their  wives  being  of  the 
part}'.  On  Thursday,  October  4th,  the 
prince  and  suite  visited  the  capitol  and 
the  patent  office.  A  reception  was  given 
at  the  White  House,  at  one  o'clock,  in 
honor  of  the  prince,  and  an  immense 
crowd  was  present.  On  this  occasion,  the 
prince  was  dressed  in  blue  coat  and  gray 
pants,  and,  with  ungloved  hands,  stood 
upon  the  right  of  the  president ;  near  the 
prince  stood  Lord  Lyons.  As  each  person 
passed,  the  president  shook  hands  with  his 
customary  urbanity,  and  the  prince  bowed 
as  usual,  though  several  ladies  succeeded 
in  shaking  his  hand.  In  the  evening,  a 
diplomatic  dinner  took  place  at  the  White 
House,  at  which  were  present  a  splendid 
array  of  high  officials  and  foreign  dignita- 
ries, the  banquet  being,  in  all  respects, 
one  of  the  most  splendid  of  its  kind  ever 
given  on  this  continent. 

The  next  day,  the  prince,  with  his  suite 
and  a  distinguished  company,  visited 
Mount  Vernon  and  the  Tomb  of  Washing- 
ton. It  was  a  scene  never  before  enacted 
by  any  prince  or  potentate, — the  heir  to 
the  proudest  throne  in  the  world  making  a 
pilgrimage  to  the  tomb  of  a  rebal  general, 
one  who,  though  once  j^ronounced  a  traitor 
by  the  very  ancestors  of  the  prince,  now 
ranks  above  all  kings — the  Father  of  a 
Country  second  to  none.  The  day  was  all 
that  could  be  desired,  one  of  October's 
finest.  The  prince  and  his  suite,  accom- 
panied b}'  President  Buchanan  and  other 
eminent  persons,  wont  on  board  the  gov- 
ernment steamer  Harriet  Lane,  and  in 
a  short  time  reached  their  destination. 
Having  carefully  inspected  the  various 
apartments  of  the  mansion  —  the  place 
where  the  patriot  wrote,  the  room  in  which 
he  slept,  the  bed  on  which  he  expired,  and 
examined  the  key  of  the  Bastile,  the  piano 


presented  by  Washington  to  Mrs.  Lewis, 
and  other  relics  and  curiosities,  the  party 
then  proceeded  in  silence  to  the  great 
patriot's  last  resting-place. 

Approaching  the  hallowed  spot,  each 
one  reverentially  uncovered  his  head.  The 
Marine  Band  had  arrived  before  them,  and, 
concealed  by  a  neighboring  thicket,  began 
playing  a  dirge  composed  by  the  leader. 
The  scene  was  most  impressive.  The  vis- 
itors, ranging  themselves  in  front  of  the 
tomb,  looked  in,  through  the  iron-grated 
door,  at  the  sarcophagus  which  contains 
the  mortal  remains  of  the  illustrious  chief- 
tain. Then,  retiring  a  few  paces,  the 
prince,  the  president,  and  the  royal  part}^, 
grouped  in  front,  silently  contemplated  the 
Tomb  of  Washington. 

Turning  their  attention  once  more  to 
the  surrounding  grounds  and  scenerj^,  one 
cut  a  cone  to  carry  back  to  England,  as  a 
relic  of  the  place ;  another  plucked  a 
flower,  as  a  memento  of  the  day  and  scene  ; 
and  the  prince,  at  the  request  of  the 
Mount  Vernon  Association,  planted,  with 
but  little  formality,  a  tree,  upon  a  beauti- 
ful little  mound  near  the  tomb,  and  took 
Math  him  a  companion  seed  to  plant  in 
Windsor  forest. 

This  pleasant  commemorative  ceremony 
being  over,  the  visitors  again  stood  for  a 
few  moments  before  the  tomb,  and  then, 
turning  away  in  thoughtful  silence,  slowly 
retraced  their  way  to  the  Harriet  Lane, 
which  during  their  absence  had  been  trans- 
formed, by  means  of  canvas  and  gay  flags, 
into  a  beautiful  dining  saloon,  with  covers 
laid  for  the  entire  party. 

Going  from  Washington  to  Richmond, 
Va.,  he  there  attended  St.  Paul's  church, 
on  Sunday,  after  which  he  visited  Gov- 
ernor Letcher.  Baltimore  was  the  next 
place  visited,  and,  after  a  drive  around  the 
city,  with  the  mayor,  he  left  for  Philadel- 
phia, on  arriving  at  which  city,  he  put  up 
at  the  Continental.  As  he  reached  this 
hotel,  an  amusing  incident  transpired. 
He  sprang  out  of  his  carriage  with  his 
usual  agility,  and,  to  avoid  the  crowd, 
rushed  for  the  stairs,  and  into  the  arms  of 
the  superintendent  of  order,  who,  presum- 


'GO 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


irig  him  to  be  an  interloper,  stopped  liim, 
and  would  not  allow  him  to  pass.  In  vain 
the  prince  struggled  and  kicked.  The 
superintendent  kejjt  fast  hold  of  the  "in- 
truder," until  Mayor  Henry  ruslied  up  and 
relieved  His  Royal  Highness  from  this 
international  embrace.  The  superintend- 
ent bowed  low,  and  begged  pardon,  but, 
■with  the  natural  tendency  to  self-defense, 
asked,  "Why  didn't  he  just  speak?" 
"Oh,"  said  the  prince,  running  ahead, 
"  that  would  have  spoiled  the  joke." 

Some  time  before  the  prince  arrived  in 
Philadelphia,  the  ladies  sw^armed  in  large 
numbers  to  the  Continental,  to  inspect  the 
prince's  splendid  apartments,  to  sit  Avhere 
he  was  to  sit,  etc.  They  were  escorted 
in  and  out  of  the  rooms  in  parties  of  three 
and  four,  and  seemed  to  feel  easier  after 
the  visit.  After  his  arrival,  hundreds  of 
people  stood  around  the  hotel  all  day. 
Some,  indeed,  mostly  ladies,  who  had 
fought  or  bribed  their  way  up  stairs,  luing 
around  the  door  of  his  apartments,  and 
touched  him  curiously  as  he  slipped  past. 

The  principal  receptions  of  the  prince, 
after  his  departure  from  Phi]adel})hia,  were 
at  New  York,  "West  Point,  and  Boston  ; 
but  no  account  of  these  receptions,  sliort 
of  an  elaborate  volume,  would  be  equal  to 
their  variety,  extent,  and  magnificence, 
and  consequently  only  a  few  incidents  can 
be  here  narrated. 

While  at  New  York,  he  attended  wor- 
ship at  Trinity  churcli,  three  front  pews 
in  the  center  aisle  being  reserved  for  the 
prince  and  suite.  In  one  of  them,  and 
immediately  in  front  of  the  prince's  seat, 
two  magnificent  prayer-books  wero  depos- 
ited, the  one  a  small  octavo  size,  tlie  other 
a  half-quarto.  The}-  were  both  got  u[)  in 
the  most  perfect  style  of  typographical  art, 
and  the  skill  of  the  binder  had  exhausted 
itself  on  the  exterior  decorations.  The 
large  one  was  bound  in  bright  red  morocco, 
and  was  fastened  by  a  golden  clasp, 
chastely  embellished  with  filigree  work, 
and  finely  worked  with  the  Prince  of 
Wales's  plume  and  his  motto  "  Ich  Dien," 
("I  serve.")  The  clasp  alone  cost  two 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars.     On   its   outer 


cover,  the  book  bore  this  inscription  :  "  To 
His  Royal  Highness,  Albert  Edward, 
Prince  of  Wales,  from  the  Corporation  of 
Trinity  Church,  New  York,  in  Memory  of 
the  Munificence  of  the  Crown  of  En- 
gland." 

At  the  Academy  of  Music,  October  12th, 
there  was  given  the  greatest  ball,  in  honor 
of  the  prince,  ever  known  in  this  country. 
Over  three  thousand  persons  were  present 
— the  ere  me  de  la  creme  of  New  York  soci- 
ety'. The  ball-room  comprised  the  par- 
quette  of  the  academy,  and  embraced  the 
stage.  It  was  one  Imndred  and  thirtj'-five 
feet  in  length  by  sixty-eight  feet  in  breadth. 
The  end  toward  the  stage  was  arranged  in 
a  semi-circular  form,  while  toward  the 
other  end  were  placed  three  superb  couches. 
The  central  one  was  for  the  prince,  while 
those  on  either  side  were  for  his  suite. 
The  decorations  were  floral  throughout  the 
ball-room.  The  scene  was  magnificent. 
There  was  a  sea  of  heads  in  a  sea  of  colors 
— the  light  flashing  back  from  the  gayest 
and  richest  of  dresses,  from  pearly  white 
shoulders  and  brilliant  complexions,  and 
from  jewels  iris-hued  and  rivaling  the  stars 
in  brightness.  The  full-dress  black  coats 
absorbed  the  superfluous  light,  and  softened 
the  blaze  of  the  thousand  lamps.  The 
rich  military  uniforms,  ornamented  with 
golden  lace  and  epaulettes,  relieved  the 
uniformity  of  the  gentlemen's  toilets. 

While  the  ro^^al  party  were  observing 
the  throng  and  the  decorations  of  the 
room,  a  sudden  rustle  and  movement  of  the 
crowd  backward  indicated  that  some  acci- 
dent was  about  to  happen,  and,  in  a  mo- 
ment after,  one  of  the  flower  vases  upon 
the  front  tier  fell  with  a  great  crash  to  the 
floor,  scattering  its  roses  upon  all  who 
stood  near. 

The  supper-room  Avas  especially  erected 
for  the  occasion,  and  its  length  was  one 
hundred  and  forty-four  feet,  by  twenty- 
eight  feet  breadth.  The  entire  vast  a])art- 
ment  Avas  draped  in  alternate  strips  of  pink 
and  white  muslin,  with  twenty-four  splen- 
did mirrors  intervening;  magnificent 
chandeliers,  suspended  from  the  roof,  con- 
tributed to  the  brilliancy  of  the  disjjla}'. 


GKAND  BALL    GIVEN    TO  THE 

All  along  the  snpper-rooni  wore  two  tables, 
gorgeous  in  all  the  appointments  of  gold, 
silver,  and  china  ware,  and  the  feast  was 
magnifieent. 

It  was  at  first  contemplated  to  give  the 
prince  a  grand  public  dinner,  but  this  was 
changed  to  a  ball,  because  the  prince,  being 
so  young  a  man,  could  not  be  expected  to 
niu.vf  an  extemporaneous  speech,  and  eti- 
quette forbade  any  one  speaking  as  his 
substitute. 

Prom  New  York,  the  prince  sailed  in  the 
government  steamer  Harriet  Lane,  for 
West  Point.  Here  he  was  received  with 
the  highest  honors  known  to  the  military 
service ;  and  after  visiting  the  command- 
ant, and  riding  round  the  place,  he  ac- 
cepted an  invitation  to  review  the  cadets. 
Eight  battalion  companies  of  cadets,  eleven 
files  front,  presented  themselves  on  the 
right  of  the  line;  then  the  company  of 
sappers  and  miners ;  then  the  battery  of 
four  guns  of  light  artillery,  with  a  corps  of 
cadets  acting  as  cannoneers ;  and  the  left 
was  occupied  by  a  detachment  of  dragoons. 


PRINCE  OF  WALES,    IN    BOSTON. 

In  a  few  minutes  after  the  formation  of 
the  line,  the  prince  and  suite,  with  Lien- 
tenant-General  Scott,  appeared  on  the 
parade  ground,  when  Major  Rej^nolds  gave 
the  order  to  "Prepare  for  Review."  The 
ranks  of  the  troops  were  opened,  the  artil- 
lery unlimbered,  the  officers  and  colors  to 
the  front,  when  the  reviewing  party 
marched  to  the  head  of  the  military  col- 
umn, Avhile  the  band  i)layed  the  air  of 
God  Save  the  Queen.  As  the  prince  and 
escort  passed  down  the  military  line,  the 
band  played  the  very  elegant  air  of  the 
Flowers  of  Edinburgh.  The  reviewers 
passed  down  the  front,  and  between  the 
open  ranks  of  the  troops,  back  to  their 
original  position  on  the  parade  ground. 
The  troops  were  then  broke  into  column 
by  companies  and  marched  in  review — 
first  in  common  time,  then  in  quick  time, 
and  finally  in  double  quick  time.  As  the 
commandants  of  the  companies  passed  and 
saluted  the  prince,  he  gracefully  raised  his 
hat  in  acknowledgment. 

Leaving   West   Point,  the  prince  pro- 


762 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


ceeded  to  Albany,  where  he  was  received 
by  Governor  Morgan  and  the  state  author- 
ities. After  spending  an  hour  or  two  at 
the  capitol,  he  repaired  to  the  governor's 
residence,  and  dined  there,  Mr.  Seward 
and  others  being  guests.  The  next  day 
he  took  a  special  train  for  Springfield, 
Mass.,  and  thence  to  Boston.  He  Avas 
conducted  to  his  quarters  by  the  Boston 
authorities,  an  immense  crowd  following. 
The  principal  occasions  of  interest,  while 
stopping  in  Boston,  were  as  follows ;  On 
Thursday  he  witnessed  a  great  political 
procession ;  then  received  Ralph  Farnhani, 
the  survivor  of  Bunker  Hill  battle  ;  re- 
viewed the  troops  on  Boston  Common ; 
attended  a  children's  musical  entertain- 
ment at  the  music  hall ;  and  went  to  the 
ball  in  the  evening.  On  Friday,  visited 
Harvard  college,  and  examined  all  the 
objects  of  interest  at  that  venerable  seat  of 
learning  ;  and  subsequently  visited  Mount 
Auburn,  Bunker  Hill,  and  the  Charles- 
town  navy  yard. 

A  very  interesting  interview  was  that 
with  Ralph  Farnham.  The  Duke  of  New- 
castle, who,  with  most  of  the  suite,  was 
present,  asked  the  revolutionary  veteran 
if  he  saw  Burgoyne  when  he  surrendered, 
adding,  "  You  rather  had  him  there ! " 
The  old  soldier  then  remarked,  chucklingly, 
that  hearing  so  much  said  in  praise  of  the 
prince,  he  began  to  fear  that  the  people 
were  all  turning  royalists.  This  and  Mr. 
Farnham's  manner  elicited  much  laughter, 
in  which  the  prince  fully  joined.  The 
prince  then  sent  for  pen  and  ink,  and 
exchanged  autographs  with  his  visitor — 
one  of  the  men  who  had  stood  before  Brit- 
ish soldiers  in  1776,  in  a  manner  and  with 
a  bearing  very  different  from  that  with 
which  he  received  the  prince's  courtesies 
and  exchanged  glances  with  the  majors, 
colonels,  and  guardsmen  of  the  royal  suite. 
Mr.  Farnham  afterwards  spoke  of  the 
interview  with  the  greatest  pleasure,  re- 
marking that  "  he  wished  to  show  the  boy 
and  his  soldiers  that  he  bore  no  anger  for 
old  times." 

The  musical  festival  was  a  novel  and 
pleasant    entertainment,    at   Music   Hall. 


Twelve  hundred  school  children  were  ar- 
ranged upon  seats  sloping  from  the  floor  to 
the  ceiling,  and  from  the  platform  one 
could  see  two  large  triangles  of  boys,  and 
two  immense  parallelograms  of  gayly- 
dressed  girls,  while  between  them  was  an 
orchestra  of  sixty  performers.  As  the 
jjrince  entered,  the  whole  company  rose, 
and  the  masses  of  children  Avaved  handker- 
chiefs and  clapped  hands,  jjroducing  a  fine 
effect. 

A  grand  success,  too,  was  the  ball,  given 
at  the  Boston  Theater, — not  exceeded  in 
splendor  by  that  in  New  York.  If  one 
can  imagine  the  immensity  of  this  thea- 
ter ;  the  dancing  floor  inclosed  as  by  a 
pavilion,  each  tier  differently  and  most 
richly  decorated,  and  crowded  with  su- 
perbly dressed  ladies ;  the  royal  box  all 
aglare  with  light,  and  rich  in  gilt,  purple, 
and  azure;  the  frescoed  ceiling,  with  its 
pendant  dome  of  light,  the  marquee,  with  its 
groA^es,  flowers,  mirrors,  arabesque  ceiling, 
its  multiform  and  varied  decorations,  and 
its  vicAv  of  Windsor  Castle,  seen  as  if  from 
some  immense  Avindow ; — if  one  can  imag- 
ine this  scene,  and  then  crowd  it  Avith 
richly  dressed  ladies,  Avith  gentlemen  in 
every  variety  of  ball  costume,  while,  over 
all,  the  lights  streamed  their  brilliant 
radiance,  mirrors  and  jewels  flashing  back 
and  reduplicating  the  rays,  and  the  soft, 
SAveet  swell  of  the  music  bearing  Avith  it 
the  graceful  moving  throng  in  a  bcAvilder- 
ing  maze  of  beauty,  an  adequate  idea  of 
the  magnificent  occasion  may  possibly  be 
gained. 

Curiously  enough,  the  Boston  ball  op- 
ened something  like  that  in  Ncav  York ; 
for  all  the  committees,  being  anxious  to 
speak  to  the  prince,  and  leaning  forAvard 
to  do  so,  crash  went  a  large  vase  of  floAvers, 
scattering  its  contents  over  the  prince. 
There  Avere  profuse  apologies,  but  the 
prince  Avas  laughing  so  heartily,  that  he 
could  not  hear  nor  speak. 

The  prince's  appreciation  of  American 
ladies  was  very  marked.  At  the  Boston 
ball,  he  remarked  slyly  to  a  beautiful 
belle,  "They  made  me  dance  Avith  the  o/d 
chaps    in    Canada."       At    Montreal,    he 


GREAT  AND  ^lEMOliABLE  EVENTS. 


763 


danced  with  Miss  Blackburn,  of  Natchez, 
a  lady  of  great  beauty ;  so  enchanted  did 
the  prince  become,  that  he  afterward  in- 
quired for  her  and  expressed  a  desire  to 
meet  again.  Among  those  with  whom  he 
danced,  at  the  Cincinnati  ball,  was  the 
beautiful  Miss  Groesbeck,  daughter  of 
Hon.  John  Groesbeck.  The  reporters 
represent  that  Miss  Groesbeck,  who  was 
the  belle  of  the  evening,  wore  a  wliite 
tulle  dress,  puffed  to  the  waist,  low  neck, 
but  wore  no  jewelry  ;  her  mother,  however, 
wore  elegant  diamond  ear-drops,  rings,  and 
pins.  When,  therefore,  one  of  the  officers 
of  the  evening  announced  to  Miss  Groes- 
beck that  she  was  to  be  honored  with  the 
prince's  hand  for  the  second  dance,  Mrs. 
Groesbeck  quietly  took  off  her  own  jewelry 
and  passed  them  to  her  favored  daughter ; 
the  latter  declined  them.  Her  mother 
insisted;  but  Miss  Groesbeck,  with  equal 
determination,  positively  refused  to  wear 
any  kind  of  ornament  other  than  her  sim- 
ple dress  and  the  wealth  of  beauty  which 
Nature  had  bestowed  on  her. 

It  is  not  exaggerating,  to  say  that  the 
prince  made  an  agreeable  impression 
wherever  he  went.  He  was  described  by 
one  of  the  newspaper  reporters,  as  follows  : 
"He  seems  to  be  about  five  feet  four  inches 
high;  his  eye  is  beautifully  blue,  mild, 
funny,  clear,  and  jolly ;  his  nose  is  well 
defined,  not  perfectly  straight,  but  clean- 
cut  and  prominent ;  his  mouth  is  full,  and 
his  chin  retreats  wonderfully.  His  coun- 
tenance indicates  a  happy  dispositioned, 
good-natured,  humorous,  fun-loving  boy, 
who  knows  what  he  is  about,  and  can't 
easily  be  fooled.  His  hair  is  soft  and  fine, 
though  disposed  to  grow  rather  low  down 
the  neck  and  on  the  forehead,  whilst  his 
head  is  well  shaped,  and  would  indicate 
firmness,  benevolence,  quickness  of  percep- 
tion, and  love  of  music.  The  very,  very 
large  hands  and  feet  of  the  young  gentle- 
man are  but  reproductions  of  those  of  his 


royal  mother,  to  whom  Dame  Nature  has 
been  very  generous  in  that  regard.  His 
form  is  small  and  very  well  proportioned, 
and  his  bearing  is  dignified,  manly,  and 
modest."  His  dress  varied  much,  of 
course,  with  the  place  and  occasion,  but 
was  always  simple,  elegant,  and  appro- 
priate. 

Portland,  Me.,  was  the  place  from  which 
the  illustrious  guest  of  the  nation  took  his 
departure  for  England.  As  the  royal 
barge  left  the  wharf  to  convey  the  prince 
to  the  Hero,  the  British  squadron  all  fired 
a  royal  salute  of  twenty-one  guns,  and  sim- 
ilar salutes  were  fired  from  the  city  and 
from  Fort  Preble.  The  harbor  was  full  of 
steamers,  sail-boats,  barges,  etc.,  w-hich 
accompanied  the  royal  barge  from  the 
wharf.  As  the  flotilla  neared  the  royal 
squadron,  the  yards  were  manned,  and  this, 
with  the  strings  of  bunting  and  flags  flying 
from  every  point  of  the  fleet,  formed  a 
magnificent  spectacle,  which  was  witnessed 
by  an  immense  concourse  of  people.  To 
all  the  parting  salutations,  the  British 
ships  responded  by  dipping  their  colors  ; 
and,  as  the  squadron  sailed,  the  bands  on 
board  each  vessel  played  Yankee  Doodle, 
and  Fort  Preble  saluted  the  party  with 
farewell  guns  as  they  passed. 

So  heart-felt,  generous,  and  enthusiastic 
a  reception  of  the  prince,  in  America,  pro- 
duced the  highest  satisfaction  throughout 
England.  The  queen,  at  an  early  day, 
caused  to  be  officially  communicated  to  the 
president  and  to  the  people  of  the  United 
States,  "her  grateful  sense  of  the  kindness 
with  which  they  received  her  son ; "  the 
hospitality  shown  him  was  warmly  com- 
plimented in  parliament;  and  Prince  Al- 
bert, as  chancellor  of  the  University  of 
Cambridge,  directed  that  the  annual  gold 
medal  there  given  for  the  encouragement 
of  English  poetry,  should,  that  year,  be 
awarded  for  the  best  poem  on  "  The  Prince 
of  Wales  at  the  Tomb  of  Washington." 


LXXXIX. 

BOMBARDMENT   AND    REDUCTION    OF    FORT    SUM- 
TER.—1861. 


Inauguration  of  Civil  War  in  the  United  States. — First  Military  Act  in  the  Long  and  Bloody  Struggle 
to  Dismember  the  Union. — Organization  of  tiie  Southern  Confederacy. — President  Lincoln's  Procla- 
mation for  75,000  Volunteers — Spontaneous  Uprising  of  the  Loyal  People — Calling  tlie  Battle-Holl 
of  tiie  Kepublic. — Supreme  Crisis  in  the  Fate  of  the  Nation. — Northern  and  Southern  Variances. — Slav- 
ery the  Cause  of  Contention. — Culmination  of  the  Antagonism. — Disunion  the  Banner  of  tlie  South. 
— Secession  of  Several  States. — War  Wager  Boldly  Staked  — Vain  Efforts  at  Reconciliation. — Federal 
Property  Seized  at  the  South. — Batteries  Erected  at  Charleston. — Fort  Sumter  Closely  Besieged. 
— Beauregard  Demands  its  Surrender. — Major  Anderson's  Flat  Refusal. — Weakness  of  His  Garrison. 
— Attempts  to  Re  enforce  It — Prevented  by  Confederate  Batteries. — All  Eyes  Riveted  on  the  Fort. — 
Opening  of  the  Attack,  April  14th  — Incessant  and  Tremendous  Fire  — Terms  of  Evacuation  Accepted. 
— Southern  Rejoicings.— The  Great  Military  Outlook — Washington  the  National  Key. 


"  Con  either  of  yon  to-day  name  one  single  act  of  wrong,  deliberatelv  and  purposely  done  by  the  povemment  et  Washinptnn,  of  vtiich 
ffie  Soutli  has  a  right  to  complain ?    1  challen^je  an  auower."— IIo.v.  ALE.i.  U.  STErnENS,  BBFOKE  tub  Georgia  Secession  Comtiw- 

IION. 


^^IGHTY-EOUR  years  had  now 
^if^^     sped  their  course,   since   the 
repuhlic  of  the  United  States, 
with   the   immortal   DecLara- 
tion  of  Independence  as  its  Magna  Char- 
ta  of  sovereignty,  took   a  place  among 
the   governments  of  the  earth  as  a  free 
and  independent  nation,  and,  during  all 
that  long  period,  the  federal  armies  had 
been    called  to  face — with  hut  an  occa- 
sional local   and  transient   exception — 
only    external    or   savage   foes.      Party 

FLAG  OF  FORT  SUMTKK.AFXKK  THE  BOMBAUDMEKT.  ^^.\^^    j^    j^     ^^.^^^^    J^^^^    ^^^^     UufreqUently 

ran  high,  and  hurled  defiance  at  law  and  its  administrators,  and  at  times,  the  strain 
upon  tlie  ship  of  state  seemed  near  to  proving  its  destruction  ;  hut  forbearance,  com- 
promise, fraternity  and  patriotism,  smoothed  the  rough  waves  of  contention,  and  peace 
regained  her  benign  sway. 

But  the  long  existing  and  bitter  antagonism  of  opinion  on  the  subject  of  slavery, 
between  the  North  and  the  South,  culminated  at  last— on  the  inauguration  of  Mr. 
Lincoln  as  president,  in  1801, — in  a  civil  war,  the  extent,  duration,  and  horrors  of 
which   have   never  been   paralleled   in  any  age  or  among  any  people,  since  the  world 


GREAT  AKD  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


•Go 


began.  In  vain  did  President  Lincoln  de- 
clare, in  liis  inangural,  his  opposition  to 
any  interference  with  slavery  in  the  states 
where  it  existed,  in  vain  were  assurances 
to  the  same  effect  proffered  by  the  party 
that  had  just  triumphed  in  the  presiden- 
tial contest,  and  in  vain  were  conferences 
and  consultations  held  by  the  leading 
statesmen  and  politicians  of  different  sec- 
tions, with  a  view  to  avert  the  calamity  of 
war. 

Intent  on  a  separate  national  existence, 
under  which  they  might  maintain  unmo- 
lested, as  well  as  extend,  the  institution  of 
slavery,  the  southern  states  recalled  their 
senators  and  representatives  from  congress, 
flung  out  the  banner  of  Secession — whi'th 
was  the  wager  and  signal  of  War, — and, 
as  an  initial  step,  commenced  the  seizure 
of  United  States  custom-houses,  arsenals, 
forts,  and  other  public  property',  within 
their  borders. 

First  in  order  of  importance,  in  this 
startling  programme  of  overt  acts,  was  the 
movement  of  the  authorities  of  South  Cai- 
oiina  to  possess  themselves  of  Fort  Sum- 
ter, in  Charleston  harbor,  before  opportu- 
nity should  be  gained  by  the  national 
government  to  re-enforce  its  scanty  re- 
sources of  men  and  provisions.  To  this 
end,  extensive  batteries  were  erected  on 
the  shores  opposite  the  fort,  by  means  of 
which,  any  ordinary  naval  force  which  the 
federal  authorities  then  had  available  for 
conveying  supplies,  could  easily  be  crippled 
in  attempting  such  assistance. 

In  this  besieged  condition,  the  brave 
and  loyal  commander  of  the  fort,  INIajor 
Robert  Anderson,  and  his  true-hearted 
men,  were  kept  for  several  weeks,  with  the 
eager  eyes  of  millions  of  admiring  coun- 
trymen riveted  upon  them.  The  vessel 
which  was  finally  dis2:)atched  by  the  navy 
department  for  their  relief,  was  shelled  by 
the  batteries  and  compelled  to  return 
without  fulfilling  her  mission.  This  was 
done  in  accordance  with  the  orders  received 
from  the  secession  authorities  at  Mont- 
gomery, Ala.,  where  a  government  styled 
the  Confederate  States  of  America  had 
been  formally  established,  with  Jefferson 


Davis  as  president,  and  which  was  to  as- 
sume all  the  responsibility  and  direction 
of  that  mighty  struggle  through  which,  as 
they  expected,  southern  independence  was 
to  be  secured,  and  the  Republic  of  the 
United  States  rent  in  twain. 

After  various  official  preliminaries,  on 
either  side,  but  without  arriving  at  any 
satisfactory  understanding,  a  demand  was 
made,  April  11th,  by  General  Beauregard, 
commander  of  the  insurgent  batteries,  for 
the  surrender  of  the  fort.  This  demand 
was  declined  by  Major  Anderson — all  the 
officers  having  been  consulted  by  him  in 
regard  to  the  summons.  At  about  three 
o'clock,  on  the  morning  of  the  12th,  notice 
was  given  that  fire  would  be  opened  on  the 
fort  in  one  hour,  unless  the  demand  to 
siirrender  was  instantly  complied  with. 
IMajor  Anderson  resolved  not  to  return  fire 
until  broad  daylight,  not  wishing  to  waste 
any  of  his  ammunition.  From  the  state- 
ments made  by  the  officers  of  Fort  Sumter, 
it  appears  that  fire  was  opened  upon  the 
fort  from  all  points  at  once,  and,  to  the 
astonishment  of  its  defenders,  a  masked 
battery  of  heavy  columbiads  opened  on 
them  from  that  part  of  Sullivan's  Island 
near  the  floating  battery,  of  the  existence 
of  which  Major  Anderson  had  not  the 
slightest  intimation.  It  was  covered  with 
brush  and  other  materials,  which  com- 
pletely concealed  it,  and  was  skillfully  con- 
structed and  well  secured.  Seventeen 
mortars,  firing  ten-inch  shell,  and  thirty- 
three  heavy  guns,  mostly  columbiads,  were 
engaged  in  the  assault.  The  crash  made 
by  the  shot  against  the  walls  was  terrific, 
and  many  of  the  shells  took  effect  inside 
the  fort.  The  inmates  took  breakfast  at 
half-past  six  o'clock,  leisurely  and  calmly, 
after  which  the  command  was  formed  into 
three  reliefs,  equally  dividing  the  officer? 
and  men.  The  first  relief  was  under  the 
command  of  Captain  Doubleda}',  of  the 
artillery,  and  Lieutenant  Snyder,  of  the 
engineer  corps.  This  detachment  went  to 
the  guns  and  opened  fire  upon  the  Cum- 
mings's  Point  battery,  Fort  Moultrie,  and 
Sullivan's  Island.  The  Iron  Battery  was 
of  immense  strength,  so  that  most  of  the 


706 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


shots  from  Fort  Sumter  struck  and  glanced 
off  again.  The  fire  was  so  terrible  on  the 
parapet  of  Fort  Sumter,  that  Major  Ander- 
son refused  to  allow  the  men  to  man  the 
guns.  Had  they  been  permitted  to  do  so, 
every  one  of  them  would  have  been  sacri- 
ficed. Fort  Moultrie  was  considerably 
damaged  by  the  cannonading  from  Fort 
Sumter,  a  great  many  shots  having  tahen 
effect  on  the  embrasures.  A  new  English 
rifled  gun,  which  was  employed  by  the 
insurgents,  was  fired  with  great  accuracy, 
several  of  its  shots  entering  the  embra- 
sures of  Fort  Sumter,  and  one  of  them 
slightly  wounded  four  men. 


The  reliefs  were  changed  every  four 
hours,  and  the  men  owed  their  safety  to 
the  extraordinary  care  exercised  by  the 
officers  in  command.  A  man  was  kept 
constantly  on  the  look-out,  who  would  cry 
'  shot,'  or  '  shell,'  at  every  shot  the  enemy 
made,  thus  affording  the  men  exposed 
ample  opportunity  for  shelter.  The  gar- 
rison was  lamentably  weak  in  numbers ; 
but  the  workmen,  though  at  first  rather 
reluctant  to  assist  the  soldiers  in  handling 
the  guns,  gradually  took  hold  and  rendered 
valuable  assistance.  Indeed,  but  few  shots 
were  fired  before  every  one  of  them  be- 
came desperately  engaged  in  the  conflict. 
They  had  to  abandon  one  gun,  on  account 
of  the  close  fire  made  upon  it.  Hearing 
the  fire  renewed  with  it,  however,  an  offi- 
cer went  to  the  spot,  and  there  found  a 
party  of  workmen  still  employed  in  serving 
it.     One    of  the    workmen    was    stooping 


over  it  with  his  hands  on  his  knees,  con- 
vulsed with  joy,  with  the  tears  rolling 
down  his  powder-begrimmed  cheeks. 
"What  are  you  doing  here  with  that 
gun?"  the  officer  asked.  ''Hit  it  right 
in  the  center,''  was  the  reply, — the  man 
meaning  that  his  shot  had  taken  effect  in 
the  center  of  the  floating  battery. 

The  aim  of  the  insurgents  was  particu- 
larly directed  at  the  flag-staff,  from  which 
Avaved  jiroudly  the  stars  and  stripes ;  and, 
after  two  days'  incessant  firing,  the  flag- 
staff was  finally  shot  away.  The  effect 
of  such  continuous  firing  was  terribly 
damaging.  "  One  tower,"  says  one  of 
the  garrison,  "  was  so  completely  de- 
molished that  not  one  brick  was  left 
standing  upon  the  other.  The  barracks 
caught  fire  on  the  first  day  several  times, 
but  in  every  instance  was  put  out  by  Mr. 
Hart,  of  New  York,  a  volunteer,  who  par- 
ticularly distinguished  himself  for  his 
coolness  and  bravery.  On  the  second  day, 
the  barracks  caught  fire  from  a  ten-inch 
shell,  and  the  danger  to  be  encountered  in 
the  attempt  to  extinguish  it  being  so  great, 
the  major  concluded  not  to  attempt  it. 
The  effect  of  the  fire  was  more  disastrous 
that  we  could  have  supposed.  The  subse- 
quent shots  of  the  enemy  took  more  effect 
in  consequence  ;  the  walls  were  weakened, 
and  we  were  more  exposed.  The  main 
gates  were  destroj-ed  by  fire,  thus  leaving 
us  exposed  to  the  murderous  aim  of  the 
enemy.  Five  hundred  men  could  have 
formed  on  the  gorge,  and  marched  on  us 
without  our  being  able  to  ojipose  them. 
The  fire  spread  around  the  fort  on  all  sides. 
Fearful  that  the  walls  might  crack,  and 
the  shells  pierce  and  prostrate  them,  we 
commenced  taking  the  powder  out  of  the 
magazine  before  the  fire  had  fully  envel- 
oped it.  We  took  ninety-six  barrels  of 
powder  out,  and  threw  them  into  the  sea, 
leaving  two  hundred  barrels  in.  Owing 
to  a  lack  of  cartridges,  we  kept  five  men 
inside  the  magazine,  to  sew  them  up  as  we 
wanted  them,  thus  consuming  our  shirts, 
sheets,  blankets,  and  all  the  available  ma- 
terial in  the  fort.  When  we  were  finally 
obliged   to   close    the   magazine,   and  our 


GllEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


'07 


material  for  cartridges  was  exhausted,  we 
were  left  destitute  of  any  means  to  con- 
tinue the  contest.  We  had  eaten  our  last 
biscuit  thirty-six  hours  before.  We  were 
very  nearly  stifled  with  the  dense  smoke 
from  the  burning  buildings.  The  men  lay 
prostrate  on  the  ground,  with  wet  hand- 
kerchiefs over  their  mouths  and  eyes,  gasp- 
ing for  breath.  It  was  a  moment  of  immi- 
nent peril.  If  an  eddy  of  wind  had  not 
ensued,  we  all,  probabl}^,  would  have  been 
suffocated.  The  crashing  of  the  shot,  the 
bursting  of  the  shells,  the  falling  of  walls, 
and  the  roar  of  the  flames,  made  a  Pande- 
monium of  the  fort.  We  nevertheless 
kept  up  a  steady  fire.  Early  in  the  after- 
noon of  the  13th,  ex-senator  Wigfall,  of 
Texas, — who  had  become  an  officer  in  the 
Confederate  militarj''  service, — seeing  the 
inequality  of  the  contest,  made  his  appear- 
ance at  one  of  the  embrasures  with  a  white 
handkerchief  on  the  end  of  a  sword,  and 
begged  for  admittance.  He  asked  to  see 
Major  Anderson.  While  Wigfall  was  in 
the  act  of  crawling  through  the  embrasure, 
Lieutenant  Snyder  called  out  to  him, 
"Major  Anderson  is  at  the  main  gate." 
He  passed  through  the  embrasure  into  the 
casement,  paying  no  attention  to  what  the 
lieutenant  had  said.  Here  he  was  met 
by  Captain  Foster  and  Lieutenants  Mead 
and  Davis.  In  an  excited  manner  he 
said — 

"  Let  us  stop  this  firing.  You  are  on 
fire,  and  your  flag  is  down.     Let  us  quit." 

"No,  sir,"  replied  Lieutenant  Davis, 
"our  flag  is  not  down.  Step  out  here,  and 
you  will  see  it  waving  over  the  ramparts." 

"  Let  us  quit  this,"  said  Wigfall ; 
"  here's  a  white  flag — will  anybody  wave 
it  out  of  the  embrasure  ?  " 

"  That  is  for  you  to  do,  if  you  choose," 
replied  one  of  the  officers. 

"  If  there  is  no  one  else  to  do  it,  I  will," 
said  Wigfall. 

He  immediately  jumped  into  the  em- 
brasure, and  waved  the  flag  towards  Fort 
Moultrie.  The  firing,  however,  still  con- 
tinued from  Moultrie  and  the  batteries  of 
Sullivan's  Island.  In  answer  to  his  re- 
peated   request,  one   of   the    officers   said 


that  one  of  Sumter's  men  might  hold  the 
flag,  and  Corporal  Binghurst  jum])ed  into 
the  embrasure.  The  shot  continuing  to 
strike  all  around  him,  he  leaped  down 
again,  after  having  Avaved  the  flag  a  few 
moments,  and  exclaimed — 

"They  don't  respect  this  flag;  they  are 
firing  at  it." 

"They  fired  at  me  two  or  three  times," 
replied  Wigfall,  "and  I  stood  it,  and  I 
should  think  you  might  stand  it  once.  If 
you  will  show  a  white  flag  from  your  ram- 
parts, they  will  cease  firing." 

"If  you  request,"  said  Lieutenant  Da- 
vis, "that  a  flag  shall  be  shown  there, 
while  you  hold  a  conference  with  Major 
Anderson,  and  for  that  purpose  alone,  it 
may  be  done." 

At  this  point  Major  Anderson  came  up. 
Wigfall  said,  "  I  am  General  Wigfall,  and 
come  from  General  Beauregard,  who 
wishes  to  stop  this." 

Major  Anderson,  rising  to  his  full 
height,  replied,  "  Well,  sir  !  " 

"Major  Anderson,"  exclaimed  Wigfall, 
"you  have  defended  j^our  flag  nobly,  sir. 
You  have  done  all  that  it  is  possible  for 
men  to  do,  and  General  Beauregard  wishes 
to  stop  the  fight.  On  what  terms.  Major 
Anderson,  will  you  evacuate  this  fort  ?  " 

"  General  Beauregard  is  already  ac- 
quainted with  my  oidy  terms,"  was  Major 
Anderson's  reply. 

"Do  I  understand  that  you  will  evacuate 
upon  the  terms  proposed  the  other  day  ?  " 
inquired  Wigfall. 

"  Yes,  sir,  and  on  those  conditions  only," 

"Then,  sir,"  said  Wigfall,  "I  under- 
stand that  the  fort  is  to  be  ours." 

"  On  these  conditions  onlj',  I  repeat." 

"  Very  well,"  said  W^igfall,  and  he  re- 
tired. 

A  short  time  afterwards,  a  deputation, 
consisting  of  Senator  Chesnut,  Roger  A. 
Pryor,  Capt.  S.  D,  Lee,  and  W.  Porcher 
Miles,  came  from  General  Beauregard  and 
had  an  interview  with  Major  Anderson, 
when  it  came  out  that  Wigfall  had  no 
authority  to  speak  for  General  Beauregard, 
but  acted  on  his  own  responsibility. 
"  Then,"  said  Lieutenant  Davis,  "  we  have 


'68 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


been  deceived ; "  and  Major  Anderson, 
perceiving  tlie  state  of  the  case,  ordered 
tlie  American  flag  to  be  raised  to  its  i)lace. 
The  deputation,  however,  requested  liim 
to  keep  the  flag  down  until  they  could 
communicate  with  General  Beauregard,  as 
matters  were  liable  to  be  complicated. 
They  left,  and,  between  two  and  three 
hours  after,  the  garrison  meanwhile  exert- 
ing themselves  to  extinguish  the  fire  in 
the  barracks,  another  deputation  came 
from  General  Beauregard,  agreeing  to  the 
terms  of  evacuation  previously  proposed. 
Tliis  was  on  Saturday  evening.  Tliat 
night  tlie  garrison  took  wliat  rest  they 
could.  Next  day,  tlie  steam-boat  Isabel 
came    down    and    anchored  near  the  fort. 


/i^^:^^^^?>-^i^ 


The  steamer  Clinch  Avas  used  as  a  trans- 
port to  take  the  garrison  to  tlie  Isabel,  but 
tlie  transfer  was  too  late  to  allow  the  Isa- 
bel to  go  out  with  that  tide.  The  terms 
of  evacuation  agreed  to  were,  that  the  gar- 
rison should  take  their  individual  and 
company  property,  and  that  they  should 
march  out  with  their  side  and  other  arms, 
with  all  the  honors  of  war,  in  their  own 
way,  and  at  their  own  time,  and  that  they 
should  salute  their  flag  and  take  it  with 
them. 

The  insurgents  agreed  to  furnish  trans- 
ports, as  Major  Anderson  might  select,  to 
any  part  of  the  country,  either  by  land  or 
by  water.     "When  the  baggage  of  the  gar- 


rison was  all  on  board  of  the  transport,  the 
soldiers  remaining  inside  under  arms,  a 
portion  were  designated  as  gunners  to 
serve  in  saluting  the  American  flng. 
When  the  last  gun  was  fired,  the  flag  was 
lowered,  the  men  cheering.  At  the  fiftieth 
discharge  there  was  a  premature  explosion, 
which  killed  one  man  instantly,  seriously 
wounded  another,  and  two  more  not  so 
badly.  The  men  were  then  formed  and 
marched  out,  the  band  playing  "  Yankee 
Doodle  "  and  "  Hail  to  the  Chief." 

In  regard  to  the  mode  of  action  pursued 
by  Major  Anderson,  during  the  bombard- 
ment, his  sagacity  was  everywhere  mani- 
fest.      So   small   was   the   number  of  his 
men,  as  to  necessitate  their  division  into 
reliefs,  or  equal  parties,  so  as  to  work 
the    different  batteries   by  turns,  each 
four  hours.      Another  account  of  this 
terrible  scene  states  that  the  first  relief 
opened  upon  the  iron  batteries  at  Cum- 
niings  Point,  at  a  distance  of   sixteen 
liundred  yards,  the  iron    floating  bat- 
tery, distant  some  eighteen  hundred  or 
two  thousand  yards  at  the  end  of  Sulli- 
van's Island,  the  enfilading  battery  on 
Sullivan's   Island,  and    Fort   Moultrie, 
— Captain   Doubleday   firing    the   first 
gun,  and  all  the  points  just  named  be- 
ing opened  upon  simultaneously.     For 
Q;  the  first  four  hours,  the  firing  was  kept 
"^^^j  up  with  great  rapidity;  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  men,  indeed,  was  so  great  that 
the  second  and  third  reliefs  could  not  be 
kept  from  the  guns.     This   accounts  for 
the  fact  that  doulde  the  number  of   guns 
were  at  work  xduring  the  first  four  hours 
than  at  any  other  time. 

Shells  burst  with  the  greatest  rapidity 
in  every  portion  of  the  work,  hurling  the 
loose  brick  and  stone  in  all  directions, 
breaking  the  windows,  and  setting  fire  to 
whatever  M'ood-work  they  burst  against. 
The  solid  shot  firing  of  the  enemy's  bat- 
teries, and  2)articularly  of  Fort  IMoultrie, 
was  directed  at  the  barbette  guns  of  Fort 
Sumter,  disabling  one  ten-inch  and  one 
eight-inch  columbiad,  one  forty-two  pound- 
er, and  two  eight-inch  sea-coast  howit- 
zers, and  also  tearing  away  a  large  portion 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


769 


of  the  parapet.  The  firing  from  the  bat- 
teries on  Cummings  Point  was  scattered 
over  the  whole  of  the  gorge,  or  rear,  of  the 
fort.  It  looked  like  a  sieve.  The  explo- 
sion of  shells,  and  the  quantity  of  deadly 
missiles  hurled  in  every  direction  and  at 
every  instant  of  time,  made  it  almost  cer- 
tain death  to  go  out  of  the  lower  tier  of 
casements,  and  also  made  the  working  of 
the  barbette,  or  upper  uncovered  guns, 
which  contained  all  the  heaviest  metals, 
and  by  which  alone  shells  could  be  thrown, 
quite  impossible.  During  the  first  day 
there  was  hardly  an  instant  of  time  that 
there  was  a  cessation  of  the  whizzing  of 
balls,  which  were  sometimes  coming  half  a 
dozen  at  once.  There  Avas  not  a  portion  of 
the  work  which  was  not  seen  in  reverse — 
that  is,  exposed  by  the  rear — from  mor- 
tars. 

On  Friday,  before  dinner,  several  of  the 
vessels  of  the  fleet  beyond  the  bar  were 
seen  through  the  port-holes.  They  dipped 
their  flag.  The  command  ordered  Sum- 
ter's flag  to  be  dipped  in  return,  which 
was  done,  while  the  shells  were  bursting 
in  every  direction.  The  flagstaff  was  lo- 
cated in  the  open  parade,  being  about  the 
center  of  the  open  space  within  the  fort. 
Sergeant  Hart  saw  the  flag  half-way  down, 
and,  supposing  that  it  had  been  cut  by  the 
enemy's  shot,  rushed  out  through  the  fire 
to  assist  in  getting  it  up.  Shortly  after  it 
had  been  re-raised,  a  shell  burst  and  cut 
the  halyards,  but  the  rope  was  so  inter- 
twined around  the  halyards,  that  the  flag 
would  not  fall.  Sergeant  Hart  also  par- 
ticularly distinguished  himself  in  trying  to 
put  out  the  flames  in  the  quarters,  w^ith 
shells  and  shot  crashing  around  him;  and, 
though  ordered  away  by  Major  Anderson, 
he  begged  hard  to  be  permitted  to  remain 
and  continue  his  exertions. 

One  great   misfortune   was,   that   there 

was  not  an  instrument  in  the  fort  by  which 

they  could  weigh  powder,  which  of  course 

destroyed  all  attempt  at  accuracy  of  firing. 

Nor  were  there  any  tangent  scales,  breech 

sides,  or  other  instruments  with  which  to 

point  a  gun.     When  it  became  so  dark  as 

to  render  it  impossible  to  see  the  effect  of 
49 


their  shot,  the  port-holes  were  closed  for 
the  night,  while  the  batteries  of  the  seces- 
sionists continued  their  fire  the  whole 
night.  The  firing  of  the  rifled  guns  from 
the  iron  battery  on  Cummings  Point  be- 
came extremely  accurate  in  the  afternoon 
of  Frida}^,  cutting  out  large  quantities  of 
the  masonry  about  the  embrasures  at  every 
shot.  One  piece  struck  Sergeant  Kearnan, 
an  old  Mexican  war  veteran,  striking  him 
on  the  head  and  knocking  him  down. 
Upon  being  revived,  he  was  asked  if  he 
was  hurt  badly..  He  replied,  "  No  !  I  was 
only  knocked  down  temporarily  ;  "  and  he 
went  to  work  again.  On  Saturday,  when 
the  barracks  were  on  fire,  the  wind  so 
directed  the  smoke  as  to  fairly  fill  the  fort, 
so  that  the  men  could  not  see  each  other, 
and,  with  the  hot,  stifling  air,  it  was  as 
much  as  a  man  could  do  to  breathe.  Soon 
they  were  obliged  to  cover  their  faces  with 
wet  cloths  in  order  to  get  along  at  all,  so 
dense  was  the  smoke  and  so  scorching  the 
heat.  But  few  cartridges  were  left,  and 
the  guns  were  fired  slowly  ;  nor  could  more 
cartridges  be  made,  on  account  of  the 
sparks  falling  in  every  part  of  the  works. 
A  gun  was  fired  every  now  and  then,  only 
to  let  the  people  and  the  fleet  in  the  town 
know  that  the  fort  had  not  been  silenced. 
The  cannoneers  could  not  see  to  aim,  much 
less  where  they  hit. 

After  the  barracks  were  well  on  fire,  the 
shells  and  ammunition  in  the  upper  ser- 
vice-magazines exploded,  scattering  the 
tower  and  upper  portions  of  the  building 
in  every  direction.  The  crash  of  the 
beams,  the  roar  of  the  flames,  the  rapid 
explosion  of  the  shells,  and  the  shower  of 
fragments  of  the  fort,  with  the  blackness 
of  the  smoke,  made  the  scene  indescriba- 
bly terrific  and  grand.  This  continued  for 
several  hours.  Meanwhile,  the  main  gates 
were  burned  down,  the  chassis  of  the  bar- 
bette guns  were  burned  away  on  the  gorge, 
and  the  upper  portions  of  the  towers  had 
been  demolished  by  shells.  There  was  not 
a  portion  of  the  fort  where  a  breath  of  air 
could  be  got  for  hours,  except  through  a 
wet  cloth.  The  fire  spread  through  to  the 
men's  quarters,  on  the  right  hand  and  on 


770 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


INTERIOR  OF  FORT   SUMTER  AFTER  THE   BOMBARDMENT 

the  left,  and  endangered  the  powder  that 
had  been  taken  out  of  the  magazines. 
The  men  went  through  the  fire  and  cov- 
ered the  barrels  with  wet  cloths,  but  the 
danger  of  the  fort's  blowing  up  became  so 
imminent,  that  they  were  obliged  to  heave 
the  barrels  out  of  the  embrasures.  While 
the  powder  was  being  thrown  overboard, 
all  the  guns  of  Moultrie,  of  the  iron  float- 
ing battery,  of  the  enfilade  battery,  and 
the  Dalilgren  battery,  worked  with  in- 
creased vigor. 

The  interior  of  Fort  Sumter,  as  seen 
after  the  evacuation  and  described  by  the 
newspaper  reporters,  showed  the  work  that 
had  been  done  during  the  bombardment. 
Every  point  and  every  object,  to  which  the 
eye  was  turned,  except  the  outer  walls  and 
casements,  bore  the  impress  of  ruin.  The 
walls  of  the  internal  structure,  roofless, 
bare,  blackened  and  perforated  by  shot  and 
shell,  hung  in  fragments,  and  seemed  in 
instant  readiness  to  totter  down.  Near 
the  center  of  the  parade  ground  was  the 
hurried  grave  of  one  who  had  fallen  in 
defense  of  his  country's  flag.  To  the  left 
of  the  entrance  was  a  man  who  seemed  at 
the  verge  of  death.  In  the  ruins  to  the 
right  there  was  another.  The  shattered 
flag-staff,  marked  by  four  balls,  lay  on  the 


ground.  The  jiarado  ground  was  strew:^ 
with  fragments  of  shell  and  of  the  dilapi» 
dated  buildings.  At  least  four  guns  were 
dismounted  on  the  ramparts,  and  at  every 
step  the  way  was  impeded  by  materials  ot 
the  broken  structure.  The  whole  scene 
was  one  of  frightful  desolation,  causing 
indescribable  feelings  in  every  loyal  heart. 
On  the  18th  of  April,  Major  Anderson, 
then  on  his  Avay  to  New  York,  in  the 
steamship  Baltic,  penned  his  official  dis- 
patch to  Mr.  Cameron,  secretary  of  war, 
stating  that,  "having  defended  Fort  Sum- 
ter for  thirty-four  hours,  until  the  quar- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


771 


ters  were  entirely  burned,  the  main  gates 
destroyed  by  fire,  the  gorge  wall  seriously 
injured,  the  magazine  surrounded  by 
flames,  and  its  door  closed  from  the  effects 
of  the  heat,  four  barrels  and  three  car- 
tridges of  powder  only  being  available, 
and  no  provisions  but  pork  remaining,  I 
accepted  terms  of  evacuation  offered  by 
General  Beauregard,  being  the  same  of- 
fered by  him  on  the  11th  instant,  prior  to 
the  commencement  of  hostilities,  and 
marched  out  of  the  fort  Sunday  afternoon, 
the  14th  instant,  with  colors  flying  and 
drums  beating,  bringing  away  company 
and  private  property,  and  saluting  my  flag 
■with  fifty  guns."  Major  Anderson  and  his 
men  received  the  thanks  of  the  govern- 
ment for  their  gallant  defense  of  the  fort 
against  such  odds. 

As  soon  as  the  national  flag  had  ceased 
to  wave  over  Fort  Sumter,  the  president 
issued  a  proclamation  for  an  extra  session 
of  congress,  to  convene  July  4th,  and  also 
calling  for  seventy-five  thousand  men,  in 
order  "to  maintain  the  honor,  the  integ- 
rity, and  existence  of  our  national  Union 
and  the  perpetuity  of  popular  government, 
and  to  redress  wrongs  already  long  enough 
endured."  This  proclamation  was  of 
course  spurned  and  ridiculed  by  the  seven 
states — South  Carolina,  Georgia,  Alabama, 
Florida,  Mississippi,  Louisiana,  and  Texas 
— that  had  formed  themselves  into  the 
Southern  Confederacy ;  and,  by  the  other 
southern  states,  as  also  by  the  border 
states,  it  was  treated  with  mingled  con- 
tempt and  indignation.  But,  throughout 
the  vast  North  and  West,  it  was  received 
and  responded  to  with  an  enthusiasm 
which  showed  that  the  attempt  to  dismem- 
ber the  North  American  Republic  and 
blot  it  out  from  the  map  of  nations,  was  to 
be  resisted  to  the  last  dollar  and  the  last 
man.  The  supreme  hour  in  the  history  of 
the  nation  had  now  arrived,  and,  reluctant 
as  were  the  loyal  states  to  engage  in  the 
jiorrors  of  fratricidal  strife,  the  wager  of 
war  was  the  only  alternative  which  now 
presented  itself.  The  national  fate  hung 
trembling  in  the  scale  of  destiny,  and  the 


people  rose  in  their  might ;  party  lines 
were  obliterated ;  the  battle-roll  of  the 
republic  was  called ;  the  old  flag  seemed 
never  before  so  dear  to  the  patriot's  heart. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  successful  reduc- 
tion of  Fort  Sumter  inspired  universal 
enthusiasm  at  the  south,  in  behalf  of  the 
secession  cause,  —  Virginia,  Tennessee, 
North  Carolina,  Arkansas,  and  Missouri 
joined  the  Confederacy,  —  and  gigantic 
I^reparations  were  made  for  a  contest  which 
should  result  in  separation  and  independ- 
ence. Armies  Avere  formed  and  equipped, 
and  defensive  fortifications  erected,  in  all 
the  disunion  states. 

At  the  head  of  the  armies  of  the  loj^al 
states  was  Lieutenant-General  Scott,  di- 
recting all  the  preparations  and  move- 
ments for  the  impending  conflict,  and  espe- 
cially devoting  his  military  skill  to  the 
protection  of  the  federal  capital.  It  was 
said  that  he  had  all  along  been  averse, 
from  purely  military  considerations,  to  the 
re-enforcement  of  Fort  Sumter,  it  being, 
like  Charleston,  of  no  strategic  importance, 
requiring  a  valuable  force  to  hold  it,  with 
no  adequate  advantage  gained.  He  re- 
garded Fort  Pickens,  in  the  Gulf,  and 
Washington,  the  capital,  as  the  two  keys 
of  the  position.  On  the  4th  of  March,  and 
for  some  weeks  afterward,  it  would  have 
been  almost  impossible  for  the  federal  gov- 
ernment to  defend  Washington  against 
such  a  force  as  had  already  been  collected 
by  the  secessionists  before  Sumter,  and 
which  could  be  marched  at  any  time  on  a 
capital  unprepared  for  defense.  General 
Scott's  plans,  based  on  these  facts,  were  at 
once  laid.  No  time  was  lost  in  strength- 
ening the  capital.  Success  attended  the 
effort  to  increase  the  garrison  of  Fort 
Pickens,  and  at  last  Washington  was  rea- 
sonably safe. 

And  thus  commenced  what  finally 
proved  to  be  the  most  gigantic  and  bloody 
struggle  in  the  annals  of  human  strife,  the 
result  of  the  conflict,  too,  being  the  most 
momentous,  perhaps,  in  its  relations  to  the 
interests  of  the  human  race,  of  any  since 
the  world  began. 


xc. 

ASTONISHING    FEATS    OF    HORSE-TAMING    PERFORMED 

BY  MR.   JOHN  S.  RAREY.— 1861. 


The  Most  Savage  and  Furious  Animals  Made  Tractable  as  Lambs. — The  Ferocious  and  Far  Famed 
"  Cruiser"  Lies  Docile  at  His  Master's  Feet — Acclamations  of  Wonder  and  Admiration  by  Crowded 
Audiences. — Brilliant  Honors  from  Monarchs  and  Courts  Abroad. — Philosophy  of  Mr.  Karey's 
Method  and  Success. — Mr.  Rarey  Personally. — Boyhood  Fondness  for  Horses. — Aptness  in  Training 
Them. — Discovers  an  Improved  Method. — Its  Perfect  Success. — Wild  Prairie  Horses  Subdued. — 
— Determines  to  Exhibit  Abroad  — His  Skill  Challenged  in  London. — "  Ouiser  "  to  be  the  Great  Test. 
— Rage  and  Fury  of  the  Animal — Plunging,  Rearing,  Yelling,  Biting  — Rarey's  Complete  Triumph. — 
Monarchs  and  Princes  Present — Their  Surprise  and  Delight. — Victoria's  Rapturous  Applause  — 
Exhibitions  in  the  United  States. — Terrible  Cases  Dealt  With. — Rarey  Always  Conqueror. — His 
Calm,  Fine,  Firm  Voice. — Cool,  Quiet,  Quick  Movements. — Magnetism  of  His  Presence. — Details  of 
the  System. 


"  I  can  break  any  animal,  of  whatever  nie  or  habit.i,  in  the  world.    1  can  make  any  animal  sensible  of  my  power— make  him  gentle  and 
eren  affectionate."— Mr.  Kably,  at  Niblo's  Gakdkn,  New  Yokk. 


•cruiser,"  untamed. 


OVEL  and  extraordinary,  to  a  degree  bordering 
on  the  marvelous,  were  the  exhibitions 
with  which  the  name  of  John  S.  Karey, 
of  Ohio,  became  so  popuhirly  identified, 
both  in  America    and    Europe,   in   the 
management  of  that  noblest,  as  well  as 
most  useful  and  beautiful,  of  animals,  the 
horse.     Wondering  and  delighted  crowds 
attended   these  exhibitions,  in  all 
the  principal  cities  of  this  country  ; 
and,   abroad,    crowned  heads   and 
titled  dignitaries  were  among  the 
gifted  champion's  most  enthusias- 
tic auditors, — and  there,  as  well  as 
at    home,    every  American  felt  a 
just  pride  in  the  laurels  achieved 
by    their    countryman.       Such   a 
decided    sensation,  —  at   once   so 
exciting,  ])leasant,  and  universal,  may  well  have  a  place  in  the 
national  gallery  of  things  noteworthy  and  agreeable.     Surel}', 
few,  if  any,  of  the  marvels  recorded  in  that  wonderful  French 
book,  "  The  Great  Wizard,"  which  Dr.  K.  Shelton  McKenzie 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


773 


has  given  to  theEnglisli  reader  in  so  fasci- 
nating a  dress,  can  be  said  to  equal  the 
feats  performed  by  the  very  practical  wiz- 
ard of  Ohio,  in  tlie  different  cities  of  the 
Union  in  1861,  and  which  cast  all  that  is 
merely  ideal  or  legerdemain  far  and  for- 
ever into  the  shade. 

At  the  time  of  these  astonishing  tri- 
umphs, Mr.  Rarey  was  a  slightly  built 
man,  about  thirty  j-ears  of  age.  He  was 
the  son  of  a  stock  farmer  and  breeder  of 
horses,  who  lived  in  Franklin  county,  Ohio, 
and  was  himself  engaged  in  a  similar  occu- 
pation at  a  place  called  Groveport,  about 
ten  miles  from  Columbus,  the  capital  of 
that  state.  From  boyhood  he  is  stated  to 
have  exhibited  an  intense  fondness  for 
horses  and  a  remarkable  aptitude  for 
breaking  and  training  them  after  the  old 
fashion,  until  he  discovered  a  more  humane 
mode  of  treatment,  and  which  he  soon 
put  into  practice  with  the  greatest  success 
in  his  native  state.  The  subjects  on  which 
he  operated  were  in  many  cases  horses 
reclaimed  in  a  perfectly  wild  condition 
from  the  western  prairies,  and  in  the 
course  of  his  experience  he  had  several  of 
his  limbs  broken,  but  without  at  all  damp- 
ening his  enthusiasm  or  diminishing  his 
faith. 

Appreciating  the  Englishman's  superior 
love  and  care  for  the  horse,  Mr.  Rarey 
visited  England  at  the  outset  of  his  career, 
for  the  purpose  of  exhibiting  and  introduc- 
ing his  system  of  training  in  that  country. 
His  success  was  such  as  to  elicit  the  most 
unbounded  admiration,  mingled  with  at 
least  an  equal  degree  of  astonishment,  on 
the  part  of  audiences  the  most  crowded 
and  brilliant,  including  veteran  horse- 
trainers  from  far  and  near.  Among  the 
latter  class,  were  not  a  few  who  regarded 
the  American  performer  with  somewhat  of 
professional  jealousy,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  the  following  challenge  of  his  skill 
was  received  by  him  from  a  high  source  : 
*'  Mr.  Rarey  is  a  public  man,  and  of  course 
exposed  to  criticism.  Some  of  his  experi- 
ments have  proved  successful,  but  there 
has  not  been  time  enough  to  develop 
whether  the  docility  of  these  horses  upon 


whom  he  has  operated  is  as  durable  as  he 
alleges.  If,  however,  he  would  'walk  over 
the  course,'  and  set  criticism  at  defiance, 
let  him  go  down  some  morning  to  Mur- 
rell's  Green,  with  a  few  of  his  aristocratic 
friends,  and  try,  '  Cruiser,''  and  if  he  can 
ride  him  as  a  hack  I  guarantee  him  immor- 
tality, and  an  amount  of  ready  money  that 
would  make  a  British  bank  director's 
mouth  water.  The  'initiated'  will  not  be 
surprised  at  my  selecting  Cruiser;  but  as 
the  public  ma3'^  be  ignorant  of  him,  I  will 
append  some  particulars  of  his  history: 
Cruiser  was  the  property  of  Lord  Dor- 
chester, and  was  a  favorite  of  the  Derby 
in  Wild  Daynell's  year,  but  broke  down 
about  a  month  before  the  race.  Like  all 
horses  of  Venison  blood,  his  temper  was  not 
of  the  mildest  kind,  and  his  owner  was  glad 
to  get  rid  of  him.  When  started  for  Raw- 
cliffe,  the  man  who  had  him  in  charge  was 
told  on  no  account  to  put  him  in  a  stable, 
as  he  would  never  get  him  out.  This 
injunction  was  of  course  disregarded,  for 
w^hen  the  man  wanted  some  refreshment 
he  put  Cruiser  in  the  public  stable  and 
left  him.  To  get  him  out,  the  roof  of  the 
building  had  to  be  ripped  off.  At  Raw- 
cliffe.  Cruiser  was  always  exhibited  by  a 
groom  Avith  a  ticket-of-leave  bludgeon  in 
his  hand,  and  few  were  bold  enough  to 
venture  into  the  animal's  inclosure,  the 
cordial  wish  of  every  visitor  being  '  that 
some  friendly  bullet  would  lay  him  low.' 
This  animal,  then,  whose  temper  has 
depreciated  his  value  perhaps  a  thousand 
pounds,  I  think  would  be  '  the  right  horse 
in  the  right  place,'  to  try  Mr.  Rarey 's 
skill ;  and  as  the  locale  is  so  near  London, 
the  sooner  the  experiment  is  made  the 
better."  This  challenge  was  no  sooner 
received  than  accepted,  and,  as  the  vicious- 
ness  and  ferocity  of  Cruiser  had  hitherto 
utterly  baffled  ever}^  attempt  at  subjection, 
the  trial  of  Mr.  Rarey's  skill  w\as  looked 
forward  to  with  intense  interest. 

Cruiser's  habit,  it  appears,  was  to 
scream  and  yell  when  any  one  approached 
him,  to  smash  up  his  stall  "into  lucifer 
matches,"  and  to  attempt  to  bite  and  de- 
stroy every  living  thing  in  his  neighbor- 


774 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


hood.  Noblemen  used  to  go  and  throw 
articles  into  his  brick  box,  in  order  to  see 
him  fight.  When  he  was  to  be  fed  or 
•watered,  the  first  proceeding  with  his 
groom  was  to  ascertain,  by  thrusting  a  long 
pole  in  at  the  stable  door,  where  the  en- 
emy stood,  and.  then  to  deposit  the  food, 
shut  the  door,  and  vanish  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. Mr.  Rarey  changed  all  this  in  a 
moment,  as  it  were.  He  ordered  the  sta- 
ble door  to  be  thrown  open,  introduced 
himself  according  to  his  system,  without 
delay,  and  in  half  an  hour  the  indomitable 
Cruiser  might  be  ridden  by  a  child,  could 
listen  tranquilly  to  the  beating  of  a  drum, 
and  stand  serene  even  if  an  umbrella 
were  flourished  in  his  face.  Gentle  as  a 
lamb,  he  followed  his  teacher  about  the 
arena  like  a  dog,  stopping  when  he  pointed 
his  finger,  lying  down  when  he  was  told, 
rising  again  when  he  obtained  permission, 
and  doing  all  this  in  a  mild,  good-humored 
sort  of  wa)^,  as  if  the  wish  to  oblige  was 
the  sole  ruling  motive,  and  that  the  now 
docile  Cruiser  was  totall}-  unaware  of  that 
terrible  array  of  whips  and  spurs,  bits  and 
muzzles,  with  which  his  first  teachers  had 
sought  to  check  his  ferocity  and  bring  him 
to  reason.  The  speedy,  easy,  and  com- 
plete success  of  Mr.  Rarey,  in  this  remark- 
able case,  gave  him,  at  once,  the  most  flat- 
tering and  exalted  reputation  from  one  end 
of  Europe  to  the  other. 

On  Mr.  Rarey's  appearance  at  Niblo's, 
in  New  York,  he  exhibited  this  renowned 
specimen  of  the  equine  race — an  animal 
over  sixteen  hands  high,  and  of  immense 
bone  and  muscle, — and  said:  "When  I 
went  to  England  and  exhibited  there,  the 
papers  all  said,  'This  is  very  well,  but  try 
Cruiser  ! '  I  immediately  wrote  to  Lord 
Dorchester,  about  the  horse,  and  he  replied 
that  the  horse  could  not  be  brought  to  me, 
but  that  I  must  come  to  him.  I  did  go  to 
him.  The  horse  had  not  been  out  of  his 
box  for  three  years;  a  brick  stable  had  to 
be  built  for  him,  and  he  would  have  been 
shot,  but  he  was  the  last  of  a  race  of  splen- 
did blood-horses,  and  his  owner  was  anx- 
ious to  preserve  him  if  possible.  I  found 
that  by  his  biting  and  kicking  he  had  so 


injured  himself  that  he  could  not  be  taken 
out  of  his  box,  and  so  I  had  to  wait  for  his 
recover}'.  I  went  down  to  see  him,  quietly 
and  unknown,  but  somehow  the  papers  got 
hold  of  it,  and  everybody  said  that  I  dared 
not  go  near  Cruiser."  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances, Mr.  Rarey  was  detained  some 
three  weeks,  when  he  went  to  London, 
accompanied  by  the  now  subdued  steed. 

The  collar  and  muzzle  which  Cruiser 
used  to  wear  were  exhibited  b}-  Mr.  Rarey. 
His  owner  could  place  them  upon  him 
only  by  letting  a  rope  down  through  the 
roof  of  his  stall,  fastening  it  under  his 
neck,  and  raising  him  off  his  fore  feet. 
The  exhibition  at  Niblo's  was  the  first 
time  Cruiser  had  been  on  the  stage  in 
America.  "  We  have,"  said  Mr.  Rarey, 
"had  no  rehearsal ;  but  instead  of  kicking, 
as  he  used,  he  will  now  (as  3'ou  see)  give 
me    his    foot    like    a    gentleman."      Two 


JOHN   S.   RAUEV. 


straps  were  now  shown,  being  all  that  had 
been  used  in  taming  this  horse.  Mr. 
Rarey,  on  being  asked  "to  explain,  more 
particularly',  how  he  approached  Cruiser, 
said :  "  I  think  horses  have  a  reason  for 
everything  they  do.  I  knew  if  I  ap- 
proached Cruiser  with  a  stick  he  would 
fight  me,  as  he  had  fought  others  who 
came  to  whip  him.  In  the  box  was  a 
double  door,  so  that  I  could  open  the 
upper  half.  I  went  quietly;  opened  the 
door  noiselessly.  Cruiser  turned  round,  saw 
me,  started  back  frightfully,  but  did  not 
attempt  to  come  at  me.  He  came  slowly 
up  to  smell  of  me  after  a  while,  and,  in 
spite    of   Lord   Dorchester's  entreaties,  I 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


775 


stood  still.  Presently,  when  I  saw  that 
he  stood  naturally,  I  began  to  fondle  him. 
Lord  Dorchester  begged  me  to  tie  his 
head,  and  I  did  so,  but  you  never  saw 
suoh  fighting.  Finding  that  he  would 
either  kill  himself  or  tear  down  the  box,  I 
released  him,  and  began  all  over  again. 
After  he  allowed  me  to  fondle  him,  I  took 
him  into  the  straw-3'ard,  and  proceeded  as 
with  any  other  horse,  until  at  last  he 
would  let  me  take  any  liberty  with  him, 
and  Lord  Dorchester  mounted  him  with 
impunity."  Mr.  Rarey  declared  that 
Cruiser  was  about  as  celebrated  for  his 
viciousness  as  he  himself  was  for  taming 
him. 

A  horse  of  the  Messenger  breed,  excita- 
ble and  ferocious,  was  next  operated  upon. 
By  gently  fondling  his  head  and  caressing 
him,  Mr.  Rarey  succeeded  in  managing 
him  perfectly.  "  See,"  said  Mr.  Rarey, 
"  I  place  this  horse's  foot  upon  me.  There 
is  no  danger.  He  would  no  more  tread 
heavily  upon  me  than  a  mare  upon  her 
foal."  He  sat  upon  the  animal,  put  his 
hoofs  playfully  together,  and  rested  his 
head  composedly  between  the  horse's  heels. 
At  first,  Mr.  Rarey  fastened  a  strap  round 
the  horse's  fore  leg,  so  as  to  make  him 
limp  on  three  legs  and  finally  kneel. 
When  the  second  strap  was  attached,  a 
struggle  ensued,  which  ended  in  the  ani- 
mal's lying  down,  and  here  the  art  of  Mr. 
Rarey,  in  its  perfect  adaptedness  to  the 
end  sought,  was  made  apparent. 

Next  in  course  Avas  a  wild  horse  from 
South  America,  which  threw  Mr.  Rarey 
several  times,  plunging,  rearing,  and  bit- 
ing with  rage  and  fury.  On  his  leg,  too, 
Mr.  Rarey  attached  the  fatal  strap,  and, 
after  a  prolonged  struggle,  the  animal  was 
thrown,  and  his  conquerer  was  upon  him. 
After  rising  up  and  sitting  down  again  on 
the  horse's  back  several  times,  in  order  to 
accustom  the  horse  to  the  sensation,  Mr. 
Rarey  raised  him  up,  and,  addressing  the 
audience  from  the  animal's  back,  said: 
'*It  is  entirely  wrong  to  leap  upon  a 
horse's  back  and  hold  fast,  no  matter  how 
frightened  he  may  be.  There  is  now  a 
perfect  understanding  between    us.      All 


horses  like  me  after  this  process.  They 
all  come  to  me  gladly.  This  is  the  test  of 
breaking :  If  they  fly  away  from  you,  then 
know  you  have  treated  them  badly ;  if 
they  come  to  you,  they  know  you  are  a 
friend."  No  better  illustration  of  the 
truth  of  these  remarks  was  needed  than  the 
case  then  in  hand. 

Perhaps  the  most  brilliant  and  magnifi- 
cent reception  ever  accorded  in  Europe  to 
a  private,  untitled  American,  was  on  the 
occasion  of  Mr.  Rarey's  performances  in 
London,  when  there  were  present  the 
Queen,  Prince  Albert,  the  princess  royal, 
the  Prince  of  Wales,  Prince  Alfred,  and 
other  members  of  the  royal  family,  with 
the  ladies  of  the  court  and  most  of  the 
foreign  princes  and  distinguished  visitors 
then  in  the  metropolis,  including  Prince 
Erederick  William  of  Prussia,  the  prince 
of  Prussia  ;  the  Princes  Prederick  Charles, 
Albert,  Prederick  Albert,  and  Adelbert,  of 
Prussia;  Prince  Hohenzollern  Sigmarin- 
gen,  the  Duke  of  Saxe  Coburg  and  Gotha, 
the  Duke  of  Brabant,  the  Count  of  Flan- 
ders, Prince  William  of  Baden,  Prince 
Edward  of  Saxe  Weimer,  and  Prince  Jul- 
ius of  Holstein  Glucksburg.  The  Duke 
of  Wellington,  Major-General  Sir  Richard 
Airey,  Lord  Paget,  and  countless  other 
dignitaries  were  also  present. 

The  subjects  on  which  Mr.  Rarey  oper- 
ated were  decided  cases.  One  was  a  fine- 
spirited  black  horse,  of  high  nervous  tem- 
perament, which  had  been  returned  to  Mr. 
Anderson,  of  Picadilly,  of  whom  he  had 
been  bought  for  a  large  sum  of  money,  on 
the  ground  of  his  being  all  but  unmanage- 
able. At  the  first  private  interview  of 
Mr.  Rarey  with  this  horse,  the  animal  was 
placed  in  a  loose  box,  which  Mr.  Rarey 
entered,  cracking  a  whip.  Startled  by 
this  unusual  exhibition  of  violence,  the 
horse  struck  out  with  both  his  hind  legs, 
and  uttered  a  kind  of  savage  yell.  The 
company  who  had  assembled  to  witness 
the  experiment  were  then  asked  to  with- 
draw, and  Mr.  Rarey  was  left  alone  with 
the  horse.  On  being  called  in  again,  in 
less  than  quarter  of  an  hour,  they  were 
amazed  to  find  the  animal  prostrate  on  his 


776 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


side  among  the  straw  in  the  stall,  with 
his  head  slightly  raised,  and  Mr.  Rarey, 
whom  he  was  eyeing  without  the  slightest 
symptom  of  alarm,  lying  beside  him.  Mr. 
Rarey  remained  with  him  in  this  position 
for  some  time,  during  which  he  knocked 
the  horse's  fore  and  hind  hoofs  together, 
made  a  pillow  of  his  thighs,  and  finally  got 
up  and  ran  a  heavy  wheelbarrow  up  to  and 
around  the  still  prostrate  creature,  without 
producing  in  him  the  slightest  sensation 
of  fear.  Subsequently,  the  mastery  of 
Mr.  Rarey  became  so  complete  over  this 
horse,  that,  when  laid  on  his  side  in  a 
loose  box,  a  plank  was  placed  against  his 
shoulder  in  sight  of  the  horse,  and  a  bar- 
row run  up  it.  He  never  moved.  A 
drum  was  also  beaten  on  his  back,  and  an 
umbrella  opened  in  his  very  face  ;  but  he 
remained  stock  still,  and  evinced  no  sign 
of  apprehension. 

The  next  subject  on  which  Mr.  Rarey 
experimented  was  a  young  unbroken  colt, 
brought  from  Prince  Albert's  farm,  and 
which  had  never  been  handled  in  any 
way.  This  colt  was  led  into  the  arena  in 
halter,  and,  after  being  left  alone  with  the 
horse-tamer  a  few  minutes,  the  company 
saw,  as  in  the  former  case,  this  wild  colt 
lying  on  the  ground,  and  the  horse-tamer 
by  his  side,  who  sat  upon  him  and  handled 
his  legs,  feet,  and  every  other  part  by 
turns, — a  process  during  which  the  creat- 
ure remained  as  gentle  and  passive  as  a 
child. 

After  Mr.  Rarey  had  parted  with  the 
colt,  a  handsome  bay-charger,  belonging  to 
Prince  Albert,  was  brought  forward.  Tliis 
horse  was  one  of  high  spirit,  which  had 
always  shown  great  restlessness  while  be 
ing  mounted  and  a  constant  tendency  to 
take  fright,  and,  it  was  thought,  would 
thoroughly  defy  all  of  Mr.  Earey's  at- 
tempts to  tame  him.  In  a  short  time, 
however,  the  horse-tamer  had  him  down 
also,  as  submissive  as  all  the  rest,  and  was 
seen  crawling  among  his  legs,  sitting  upon 
his  shoulders  and  hips,  and  knocking  his 
hoofs  together.  Then,  bidding  the  horse 
rise,  which  he  did  instantly,  Mr.  Rarey 
jumped  upon  his  back,  and  held  by  turns 


an  umbrella  over  his  head  and  beat  a  tat- 
too on  a  drum,  the  hitherto  proud,  restless 
animal,  now  owning  subjection  to  a  new 
master,  remaining  the  while  almost  as 
motionless  as  a  statue. 

All  these  remarkable  feats  were  watched 
throughout  with  the  most  intense  interest 
— the  Queen,  in  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
moment,  herself  rapturously  applauding 
with  her  own  hands,  and  the  whole  com- 
pany joining  in  prolonged  demonstrations 
of  astonishment  and  delight. 

In  Paris,  Mr.  Rarey's  method  produced 
unbounded  excitement.  In  order  to  put 
the  system  to  a  vigorous  test,  the  emperor 
caused  to  be  purchased,  at  Caen,  a  four- 
year-old  horse,  by  "  Tipple  Cider,"  noted 
for  its  violence,  and  for  kicking  furiously 
whenever  an  attempt  was  made  to  put  a 
crupper  on  it.  In  the  space  of  four  days, 
this  horse  was  as  docile  with  the  saddle 
and  the  harness  as  could  be  desired,  and 
he  allowed  a  whip  to  be  cracked  about  his 
head,  and  a  drum  to  be  beaten  on  his  back, 
without  any  manifestation  of  fear. 

Another  most  notable  case  was  that  of  a 
stallion  belonging  to  the  government,  and 
which  was  so  untamable,  so  vicious,  so 
furious,  in  fact,  that  a  resolution  had  been 
adopted  to  kill  it.  The  animal  was  lent 
for  the  purpose  by  M.  de  Baylen,  and  as 
many  as  three  hundred  members  of  the 
Jockey  and  other  clubs  assembled  to  see 
what  Mr.  Rarey  could  do  with  him.  In 
company  with  this  horse,  which  arrived 
with  a  noose-band  on,  and  muzzled,  and 
led  by  two  men,  Mr.  Rarey  fastened  him- 
self up  in  a  stall,  and,  in  an  hour  after,  he 
came  out  mounted  on  its  back.  Although 
the  horse  had  always  previously  bitten  the 
legs  of  everyone  who  mounted  him,  he  was 
then  perfectly  quiet ;  and  though  the  very 
sight  of  a  whip  was  accustomed  to  put  it 
in  a  fury,  it  received  a  correction  as  qui- 
etly as  the  best  broken-in  horse  would 
have  done.  The  members  of  the  Jockey 
Club  Avere  astonished  at  what  they  wit- 
nessed, and  broke  out  into  loud  acclama- 
tions of  admiration,  after  which  they 
gathered  round  Mr.  Rarey  to  compliment 
him. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


777 


In  London,  again,  Mr.  Rarey  tested  his 
skill  successfully,  in  the  space  of  an  hour, 
on  a  famous  bay  mare,  long  pronounced 
incurable — who  was  so  dangerous  to  ap- 
proach in  any  way  that  she  could  not  be 
ridden,  would  strike  with  her  fore  feet  like 
a  pugilist,  and  kick  as  well  with  her  hind 
feet.  So  savage  w'as  she,  that  no  horse- 
man had  been  able  to  ascertain  her  age  by 
looking  at  her  teeth ;  yet  Mr.  Rarey  not 
only  opened  her  mouth,  but  put  his  hand 
into  it  several  times,  and  told  his  audi- 
ence that,  in  his  opinion,  she  was  eight 
years  old.  Great  cheers  followed  this  tri- 
umph   of    skill,    but  it    was   to    be    still 


vast  audience — who  sat  in  silence  and  sur- 
prise almost  approaching  to  awe  —  was 
greeted  at  its  close  with  rounds  of  ap- 
plause, and  Mr.  Rarey  was  tumultuously 
called  for  twice  to  receive  an  ovation  of 
cheers. 

Visiting  Russia,  a  special  exhibition 
was  given,  by  request,  before  the  emperor 
and  his  court.  All  etiquette  was  laid 
aside  by  the  royal  spectators — the  em- 
peror, and  empress,  and  all  present,  enter- 
ing into  the  humors  of  the  evening  with  a 
hearty  abandonment,  not  only  deeply  grat- 
ified at  the  novelty  of  the  entertainment, 
but  also  with  the  privilege  of  giving  vent 

SI 


MR.   RAREY  EXHIBITING  HIS  CELEBRATED  METHOD  OF  TAMING   HORSES. 


further  demonstrated  on  a  thorough-bred, 
high-spirited  Arabian  stallion,  extremely 
vicious,  perfectly  uncontrollable,  biting  at 
every  one  that  approached  him,  and  that 
would  not  suffer  himself  to  be  bridled  ex- 
cept blindfolded.  On  his  arrival  on  this 
occasion,  at  the  railway  station,  he  knocked 
down  his  groom  by  kicking  him  on  the 
head ;  and  on  being  taken  into  the  ring, 
nearly  broke  the  arm  of  the  man  who  led 
him  in,  by  striking  him  with  his  fore  feet. 
Mr.  Rarey,  notwithstanding,  succeeded 
after  a  desperate  struggle,  which  lasted 
for  about  an  hour,  in  rendering  him  as 
tractable  as  a  lamb.  This  feat,  which  was 
witnessed  throughout  by  the  whole  of  the 


to  their  natural  feelings.  That  nothing 
might  be  wanting  to  fulfill  the  object  of 
the  exhibition,  the  emperor  had  shrewdly 
availed  himself  of  his  varied  resources,  in 
in  procuring  such  an  animal  as  would  test 
Mr.  Rarey's  powers  to  the  greatest  extent 
— the  Russian  wilds  affording,  as  is  well 
known,  fearful  specimens  of  untutored  and 
savage  horse  life.  At  a  certain  signal, 
therefore,  a  perfectly  wild  brute  from  the 
Steppes  was  brought  into  the  arena,  and 
for  the  first  time  introduced  to  Mr.  Rarey's 
notice.  Two  peasants,  themselves  semi- 
barbarous,  awed  by  the  presence  of  the 
emperor,  and  filled  with  intense  fear  by 
the  plunging  and  rearing  of  the  horse  in 


778 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


their  charge,  with  difficulty  restrained  him 
from  breaking  away,  biting  their  flesh, 
or  knocking  their  brains  out  with  his 
heels,  which  at  times  cleaved  the  air  with 
fearful  velocity,  for  the  infuriated  animal, 
in  the  insanity  of  his  captivity,  absolutely 
bit  at  interposing  objects  as  if  he  were  a 
tiger.  Mr.  Rarey,  perfectly  self-possessed, 
and  to  the  surj^rise  of  all  present,  boldlj'^ 
laid  his  hand  ujion  his  neck,  and  then 
passed  it  gently  over  the  ears,  and  in  a 
few  moments  ordered  the  peasants  to  un- 
loose their  rigorous  hold  on  the  ropes, 
when  Mr.  Rarey  proceeded  to  further  pac- 
ify the  creature,  his  success  being  com- 
plete. The  emperor  and  the  imperial 
family  looked  on  with  amazement,  while 
the  two  peasants  Avere  struck  dumb  with 
awe  and  wonder — the  effect  being  height- 
ened when  the  emperor,  half  sternly  and 
half  playfully,  asked  them  "  why  they 
could  not  thus  handle  the  horse  ! " 

One  of  the  worst  specimens  that  Mr. 
Rarey  had  to  deal  with  in  America,  was  a 
New  York  car-horse, — a  very  bad  kicker, 
striking  with  her  fore  feet,  allowing  no 
one  to  approach  her  in  her  stable,  very 
treacherous,  and  giving  no  warning.  When 
the  horse  appeared  upon  the  stage,  it 
was  pronounced  a  tough-looking  customer 
enough, — thin,  Aviry,  dirty,  stubborn,  Aac- 
ious,  evil-eyed.  It  had  not  been  shod 
except  with  all  its  feet  tied,  and  then  Avith 
difficulty.  Every  time  Mr.  Rarey  touched 
it,  the  horse  kicked  most  savagely.  Eirst 
one  little  strap  Avas  tied  on,  hoAvever,  and 
then  another.  The  horse  fell  easily,  as  it 
had  been  used  to  be  thrown  thus  to  be 
shod.  But,  Avhen  the  straps  Avere  taken 
off,  and  Rarey  began  his  familiarities,  then 
came  the  tug  of  Avar.  It  Avas  kick  and 
bite,  soothe  and  fondle,  get  up  and  fall 
down,  until  at  last  the  struggling  beast 
completely  succumbed  to  the  tamer's 
kindness.  Mr.  Rarey's  head  lay  be- 
tween those  formidable  hoofs;  his  hand 
unloosed  the  bridle  Avhich  had  not  been 
removed  for  months ;  lie  played  black- 
smith, too,  hammering  at  the  shoe  without 
any  difficulty,  and  curing  the  last  bit  of 
restlessness  by  turning  the  horse  round 


and  round  aAvhile.  Mr.  Rarey  led  off  the 
subdued  old  equine  hag  Avith  as  much  com- 
placency as  if  biting  and  kicking  had 
never  been  known.  The  astonishment  of 
the  OAvner,  Avho  kneAV  the  horse  so  well, 
only  outran  that  of  the  audience. 

The  theory  proclaimed  by  Mr.  Rarey, 
in  his  lectures  and  performances,  Avas,  that 
hitherto  the  mode  of  treating  this  noble 
animal — at  least  in  the  preliminary  stages 
of  breaking,  etc., — had  proceeded  on  ideas 
of  his  nature  altogether  erroneous  and 
cruel,  and  been  invariably  characterized 
by  unnecessary  A^olence,  proA'oking  the 
display  of  resistance  and  other  kindred 
qualities  on  his  part,  and  so  the  evil  has 
been  perpetuated.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  principle  advocated  by  Mr.  Rarey  and 
constituting  the  hey  to  his  success — that  of 
extreme  kindness  and  tenderness, — con- 
A'inces  the  animal  that  man  is  his  natural 
master  and  friend,  and  elicits  his  confi- 
dence and  kindly  regard.  Appealing  to 
'Hhe  intellect  and  affections  of  the  liorse," 
as  the  basis  of  his  system  of  treatment, 
Mr.  Rarey  Avas  enabled  to  say,  to  his  ATist 
and  admiring  audience  at  Niblo's  Garden, 
NeAV  York : 

"I  luiA^e  never  had  an  accident  since  I 
became  perfect  in  my  system,  and  I  don't 
fear  any.  I  have  been  among  horses  since 
I  Avas  twelve  years  old,  and  at  first  had  a 
great  many  accidents.  Every  limb  has 
been  broken,  except  my  right  arm  ;  but  be- 
ing young,  Avhen  these  accidents  happened, 
the  bones  fortunately  healed  strongly. 
Now  I  know  horses'  CA'ery  thought,  and 
can  break  any  animal,  of  Avhatever  age 
and  habits,  in  the  Avorld.  I  can  make  any 
animal  sensible  of  my  poAver — make  him 
gentle  and  even  affectionate." 

The  mechanical  process  employed  in 
this  system,  as  described,  consists  in  fast- 
ening one  fore  leg  by  a  strap — first  allow- 
ing the  horse  to  see  and  smell  it — passed 
around  the  pastern  and  buckled  close  to 
the  forearm.  Another  strap  is  then  fast- 
ened to  the  pastern  of  the  other  fore  leg, 
and  is  either  passed  under  a  belt,  previ- 
ously buckled  about  the  horse's  bod}',  and 
its  end  held  in  one  liand,  or  it  may  be  held 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


779 


over  his  back.  'The  liorse  is  then  gentlj 
urged  forward,  and  as  he  raises  his  free 
fore  foot  to  step,  it  is  })ullod  from  under 
him  by  the  operator.  This  brings  him 
upon  his  knees.  A  struggle  ensues,  in 
wliich  the  man  is  sure  to  be  the  victor. 
Next,  by  a  sufficient  pressure,  the  horse  is 
thrown  upon  his  side  and  lies  helpless. 
The  operator  then  soothes  him  with  the 
hand  and  voice,  removes  the  straps,  and 
after  a  short  period  allows  him  to  rise. 
A  single  application  is  generally  sufficient. 
Mr.  Rarey's  cool,  quiet,  quick  move- 
ments, his  calm,  fine,  firm  voice,  gave  to 
his  presence  a  peculiar  magnetism  and 
contributed  greatly  to  his  power  over  the 
horse  ;  so  that,  in  this  respect,  he  achieved 
a  world-wide  reputation,  without  a  peer  or 
rival  to  divide  his  fame.  The  courage  and 
self-possession  exhibited  by  him  were  ex- 
traordinary,— a  patience,  too,  that  nothing 
could  wear  out,  and  a  temper  that  nothing 
could  ruffle.  Never  in  a  hurry,  he  went 
through  his  work  in  a  way  that  showed  it 
to  be,  to  him,  a  labor  of  love.     There  was 


no  mystery,  no  charm,  no  drugs,  employed 
by  him  in  his  performances.  He  ex- 
plained everything  he  was  about  to  do, 
and  gave  a  reason  for  it ;  and  then,  by 
doing  it,  successfully  proved  that  his  rea- 
soning was  correct.  At  the  end  of  the 
performance,  the  horse  would  walk  quietly 
about  without  the  slightest  appearance  of 
excitement  or  fatigue.  But,  while  thus 
sparing  the  horse,  Mr.  Rarey  evidently 
took  an  immensity  of  work  out  of  himself, 
seemingly  undergoing  a  sustained  mental 
strain,  in  order  that  the  horse,  whose 
instinct  is  so  sharp,  might  not  see  the 
slightest  faltering  in  his  proceedings. 
His  system,  a  slow  and  gentle,  but  irre- 
sistible pressure,  aimed  not  to  crush,  but 
to  subdue,  and,  to  this  end,  perfect  self- 
control  was  indispensable.  If,  therefore, 
at  the  most  critical  moment,  he  reqviired 
a  riding-whip  or  a  pocket  handkerchief,  he 
called  for  it  as  coolly  as  one  would  for  a 
glass  of  lemonade,  or  as  Nelson  called  for 
the  sealing-wax  during  the  bombardment 
of  Copenhagen. 


BATTLE 


XCL 

AT    BULL  KUN,  YA.,   BETWEEN    THE   FEDERAL 
AND  CONFEDERATE  ARMIES.— 1861. 


First  Important  Engagement  in  the  Great  Civil  War. — Severe  Fighting  for  Many  Hours. — Most  Disas- 
trous Defeat  of  the  Federal  Troops. — Their  Uncontrollable  Panic  and  Headlong  Flight. — The  South 
Jubilant. — Gloom  and  Humiliation  of  the  Loyal  States. — Three  Months  Since  Sumter  Fell. — Armies 
Massed  at  Washington  and  Richmond. — Threats  Against  the  Federal  Capital. — Irritation  and  Impa^ 
tience  of  the  North. — "On  to  Richmond!"  the  Union  War-Cry. — March  of  McDowell's  Army. — 
Plan  of  the  Movement. — Rousing  the  Southern  Forces. — Their  Unexpected  Strength. — Uncertain 
Fate  of  the  Day. — Re-enforcement  for  Confederates. — Davis's  Arrival  on  the  Ground. — He  Exclaims, 
"Onward,  My  Brave  Comrades!" — Their  Wild  Enthusiasm. — A  Lost  Battle  for  the  Union. — Com- 
plete Demoralization. — Three  Miles  of  Scattered  Troops. — Arms,  Stores,  etc.,  Flung  Away — Dis- 
tressing Sights  and  Sounds. — Thanksgiving  Appointed  by  Davis. — Te  Deums  Sung  in  the  Southern 
Churches. — Lessons  Taught  by  this  Battle. 


"  The  sainted  patriots  cry,  "It  cannot  be!" 

From  heaven  they  epeak,  and  from  their  graves  revered; 

The  God  who  gave  tnem  victory  will  not  see 

The  temple  shattered  which  their  toil  hae  reared  I  ' 


MONUMENT  ON   THE  BATTLE-FIELD. 


ORE  than  three  months  had  passed  since  the  cap- 
ture of  Fort  Sumter,  and,  during  this  exciting 
period,  throughout  the  country,  the  great  contend- 
ing parties  had  massed,  respectively,  immense  bodies 
of  troops  at  Washington  and  Richmond,  and  their 
vicinities.  So  deep  was  the  indignation  felt  by  the 
upholders  of  the  national  cause,  at  the  fall  of  Sum- 
ter, and  at  the  various  hostile  movements  and  expe- 
ditions by  the  confederates  which  followed  that 
event, — such  as  the  fearless  assault  made  upon  the 
federal  soldiers  while  passing  through  Baltimore, 
the  destruction  of  railroads  and  telegraphs,  the 
seizure  of  Northerners'  property  at  the  South,  the 
loss  of  the  Norfolk  navy  yard,  the  rout  at  and  the 
defiant  threats  of  an  advance  on  Washington, — that 
the  cry  of  "  On  to  Riclimond,^^  into  which  city  the 
confederate  forces  had  poured  from  every  part  of 
the  South,  both  for  defensive  and  aggressive  opera- 
tions, was  heard  on  every  side.  Indeed,  the  pa- 
tience of  the  North  had  become  strained  to  its 
utmost  tension  toward  those  whose  alleged  official 
inactivity  or  tardiness  was  the  assumed  cause  of  the 
insurgent  army  not  having  been,  long  since,  scat- 
tered and  destroyed. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


781 


There  were  of  course  those  who  Jitl  not 
share  this  impetuosity, — knowing  well  the 
capacities  of  defense  peculiar  to  Richmond 
and  its  approaches,  and  keenly  comprehend- 
ing the  disastrous  effect  upon  the  loyal 
states  of  a  lost  battle  in  the  open  field, 
immediately  after  the  siege  and  reduction 
of  Sumter. 

To  the  pressure,  however,  of  this  almost 
universal  demand  for  an  "  onward  move- 
ment," General  Scott  at  last  yielded,  and, 
on  the  21st  of  July,  18G1,  the  first  really 
important  engagement  between  the  union 
and  confederate  forces  took  place  on  the 
banks  of  a  stream  called  Bull  Run,  a  few 
miles  to  the  north-west  of  Manassas  Junc- 
tion, Va.,  and  about  thirty  miles  south  of 
the  Potomac  at  Washington.  It  was  on 
the  16th  of  July,  that  the  union  army, 
commanded  by  General  McDowell,  and 
officered  by  Generals  Tyler,  Hunter, 
Richardson,  Heintzelman,  Patterson,  and 
Miles,  commenced  its  march,  the  whole 
number  of  men  being  some  forty-five  thou- 
sand. The  confederate  force  which  they 
were  soon  to  encounter,  was  much  larger, 
and  consisted  of  the  division  of  General 
Beauregard,  intrenched  at  Manassas  Junc- 
tion, re-enforced  by  the  division  under 
General  Johnston,  previously  stationed  at 
Winchester,  in  the  valley  of  the  Shenan- 
doah, and  a  large  body  of  reserves  advanced 
from  Richmond  and  Aquia  Creek. 

On  the  17th,  the  union  army,  in  three 
columns,  continued  their  line  of  march, 
the  advance  column  occupying  Fairfax 
Court  House  about  one  hour  before  noon, 
the  confederates  withdrawing  as  the  union- 
ists advanced.  The  cavalry  pushed  on  to 
Centreville ;  and,  on  the  18th,  the  army 
took  up  its  march  for  the  same  place.  The 
advance,  to  this  date,  had  been  steadily 
made  on  all  sides,  and  the  reported  posi- 
tions of  the  troops  considered  good  at  head- 
quarters. In  the  afternoon,  an  engage- 
ment took  place  at  Blackburn's  Ford.  But 
the  character  of  this  conflict,  as  well  as  the 
general  plan  of  the  whole  movement,  will  be 
best  understood  by  presenting  here  the  im- 
portant portion  of  General  McDowell's  offi- 
cial report,  or  an  abstract  of  the  same. 


On  the  evening  of  July  20th,  McDow- 
ell's command  was  mostly  at  or  near  Cen- 
treville, and  the  confederate  forces  at  or 
near  Manassas,  about  seven  miles  to  the 
south-west.  Centreville  is  a  place  of  a  few 
houses,  mostly  on  the  west  side  of  a  ridge 
running  nearly  north  and  south.  The 
road  from  Centreville  to  Manassas  Junc- 
tion is  along  this  ridge,  crossing  Bull  Run 
about  three  miles  from  the  former  place. 
The  Warrenton  turnpike,  which  runs 
nearly  east  and  west,  goes  over  this  ridge, 
through  the  village,  and  crosses  Bull  Run 
about  four  miles  from  it,  Bull  Run  having 
a  course  between  the  crossing  from  north- 
west to  south-east.  The  first  division, 
Tyler's,  was  stationed  on  the  north  side  of 
the  Warrenton  turnpike,  and  on  the  east- 
ern slope  of  the  Centreville  ridge,  two 
brigades  on  the  same  road,  and  a  mile  and 
a  half  in  advance,  to  the  west  of  the  ridge, 
and  one  brigade  on  the  road  from  Centre- 
ville to  Manassas,  where  it  crosses  Bull 
Run  at  Blackburn's  Ford.  The  second 
division.  Hunter's,  was  on  the  Warrenton 
turnpike,  one  mile  east  of  Centreville. 
The  third  division,  Heintzelman's,  was  on 
a  road  known  as  the  Old  Braddock  road, 
which  comes  into  Centreville  from  the 
south-east,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from 
the  village.  The  fifth  division,  Miles's, 
was  on  the  same  road  with  the  third  divis- 
ion, and  between  it  and  Centreville. 

The  fight  at  Blackburn's  Ford,  on  the 
18th,  showed  that  the  confederates  were 
too  strong  at  that  point  for  the  unionists 
to  force  a  passage  there  without  great  loss, 
and,  from  all  the  information  that  could  be 
obtained,  McDowell  found  that  his  only 
alternative  was  to  turn  the  extreme  left  of 
the  confederate  position.  Reliable  infor- 
mation was  also  obtained  of  an  undefended 
ford  about  three  miles  above  the  bridge, 
there  being  another  ford  between  it  and 
the  bridge,  which  was  defended.  It  was 
therefore  determined  to  take  the  road  to 
the  upper  ford,  and,  after  crossing,  to  get 
behind  the  forces  guarding  the  lower  ford 
and  the  bridge,  and  after  occupying  the 
Warrenton  road  east  of  the  bridge,  to  send 
out  a  force  to  destroy  the  railroad  at  or 


782 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


near  Gainesville,  and  thus  break  up  the 
communication  between  the  confederate 
forces  at  Manassas  and  those  in  the  valley 
of  Virginia,  before  Winchester,  which  had 
been  held  in  check  by  Major-General  Pat- 
terson. Brigadier-General  Tyler  had  been 
directed  to  move  with  three  of  his  brigades 
on  the  Warrenton  road,  and  commence 
cannonading  the  enemy's  batteries,  while 
Hunter's  division,  moving  after  him, 
should,  after  passing  a  little  stream  called 
Cub  Run,  turn  to  the  right  and  north,  and 
move  around  to  the  upper  ford,  and  there 
turn  south  and  get  behind  the  enemy. 
Heintzelman's  division  was  to  follow  Hun- 
ter's as  far  as  the  turning  off  place  to  the 
lower  ford,  where  he  was  to  cross  after  the 
enemy   should   have  been  driven  out  by 


Hunter's  division ;  the  fifth  division, 
Miles's,  to  be  in  reserve  on  the  Centreville 
ridge.  The  fourth  division,  Runyon's, 
had  not  been  brought  to  the  front  farther 
than  to  guard  the  federal  communications 
by  way  of  Vienna  and  the  Orange  and 
Alexandria  railroad. 

The  divisions,  says  General  McDowell, 
were  ordered  to  march  at  half-past  two 
o'clock,  A.  M.,  so  as  to  arrive  on  the  ground 
early  in  the  day,  and  thus  avoid  the  heat. 
There  was  delay  in  the  first  division  get- 
ting out  of  its  camp  on  tlie  road,  and  tlie 
other  divisions   were    in  consequence  be- 


tween tw^o  and  three  hours  behind  the  time 
appointed — a  great  misfortune,  as  events 
turned  out.  General  Tyler  commenced 
with  his  artillery  at  half-past  six  A.  M., 
but  the  enemy  did  not  reply,  and  after 
some  time  it  became  a  question  whether  he 
was  in  any  force  in  our  front,  and  if  he  did 
not  intend  himself  to  make  an  attack,  and 
make  it  by  Blackburn's  Ford.  After  firing 
several  times,  and  obtaining  no  response,  I 
held,  (says  this  officer,)  one  of  Heintzel- 
man's brigades  in  reserve,  in  case  we  should 
have  to  send  any  troops  back  to  re-enforce 
Miles's  division.  The  other  brigades 
moved  forward  as  directed  in  the  general 
orders.  On  reaching  the  ford,  at  Sudlej's 
Spring,  I  found  part  of  the  leading  brig- 
ade of' Hunter's  division,  Burnside's,  had 
crossed,  but  the  men  were  slow  in 
getting  over,  stopping  to  drink.  As 
at  this  time  the  clouds  of  dust  from 
the  direction  of  Manassas  indicated 
the  immediate  approach  of  a  large 
force,  and  fearing  it  might  come 
down  on  the  head  of  the  column  be- 
fore the  division  could  all  get  over 
and  sustain  it,  orders  were  sent  back 
to  the  heads  of  regiments  to  break 
from  the  column  and  come  forward 
separately  as  fast  as  possible.  Orders 
were  sent  by  an  officer  to  the  reserve 
brigade  of  Heintzelman's  division  to 
come  by  a  nearer  road  across  the 
fi^elds,  and  an  aid-de-camp  was  sent  to 
Tyler  to  direct  him  to  press  forward 
his  attack,  as  large  bodies  of  the 
enemy  were  passing  in  front  of  him 
to  attack  the  division  Avhich  had  crossed 
over.  The  ground  between  the  stream 
and  the  road  leading  from  Sudley's 
Spring  south  and  over  which  Burnside's 
brigade  marched,  was  for  about  a  mile 
from  the  ford  thickly  wooded,  whilst  on 
the  right  of  the  road,  for  about  the  same 
distance,  the  country  was  divided  between 
fields  and  woods.  About  a  mile  from  the 
road,  the  country  on  both  sides  of  the 
road  is  ojien,  and,  for  nearl}^  a  mile 
further,  large  rolling  fields  extend  down 
to  the  Warrenton  turnpike,  wdiich  crosses 
what  became  the  field  of  battle,  through 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


783 


the  valley  of  a  small  water  course,  a  tribu- 
tary of  Bull  Run. 

Concerning  the  general  action,  the  offi- 
cial report  says :  Shortly  after  the  leading 
regiment  of  the  first  brigade  reached  the 
open  space,  and  whilst  others  and  the 
second  brigade  were  crossing  to  the  front 
and  right,  the  enemy  opened  his  fire, 
beginning  with  artillery  and  following  up 
with  infantry.  The  leading  brigade,  Burn- 
side's,  had  to  sustain  this  shock  for  a  short 
time  without  support,  and  did  it  well. 
The  battalion  of  regular  infantry  was  sent 
to  sustain  it,  and  shortly  afterwards  the 
other  corps  of  Porter's  brigade,  and  a  reg- 
iment detached  from  Heintzelman's  divis- 
ion to  the  left,  forced  the  enemy  back  far 
enough  to  allow  Sherman's  and  Keyes's 
brigades  of  Tyler's  division  to  cross  from 
their  position  on  the  Warrenton  road. 
These  drove  the  right  of  the  enemy  from 
the  front  of  the  field,  and  out  of  the  de- 
tached woods,  and  down  to  the  road,  and 
across  it  up  the  slopes  on  the  other  side. 
Whilst  this  was  going  on,  Heintzelman's 
division  was  moving  down  the  field  to  the 
stream,  and  up  the  road  beyond.  Beyond 
the  Warrenton  road,  and  to  the  left  of  the 
road,  down  which  our  troops  had  marched 
from  Sudley's  Spring,  is  a  hill  with  a 
farmhouse  on  it.  Behind  this  hill,  the 
enemy  had,  early  in  the  day,  some  of  his 
most  annoying  batteries  planted.  Across 
the  road  from  this  hill  was  another  hill, 
and  the  hottest  part  of  the  contest  was  for 
the  possession  of  this  hill  with  a  house  on 
it.  The  force  engaged  here  was  Heintzel- 
man's division,  Wilcox's  and  Howard's 
brigades  on  the  right,  supported  by  part 
of  Porter's  brigade  and  the  cavalry  under 
Palmer,  and  Franklin's  brigade  of  Heint- 
zelman's division,  Sherman's  brigade  of 
Tyler's  division  in  the  center  and  up  the 
road,  whilst  Keyes's  brigade  of  Tyler's 
division  was  on  the  left,  attacking  the  bat- 
teries near  the  stone  bridge.  The  Rhode 
Island  battery  of  Burnside's  brigade  also 
participated  in  this  attack  by  its  fire  from 
the  north  of  the  turnpike.  Rickett's  bat- 
ter}"^,  which  did  such  effective  service  and 
played  so  brilliant  a  part  in  this  contest, 


was,  together  with  Griffin's  battery,  on  the 
side  of  the  hill,  and  became  the  object  of 
the  enemy's  special  attention,  who  suc- 
ceeded— our  officers  mistaking  one  of  his 
regiments  for  one  of  our  own,  and  allowing 
it  to  approach  without  firing  upon  it — in 
disabling  the  battery,  and  then  attempted 
to  take  it.  Three  times  was  he  repulsed 
by  different  corps  in  succession,  and 
driven  back,  and  the  guns  taken  by  hand, 
the  horses  being  killed,  and  pulled  away. 
The  third  time  it  was  supposed  by  all  that 
the  repulse  was  final,  for  he  was  driven 
entirely  from  the  hill,  and  so  far  beyond 
it  as  not  to  be  in  sight,  and  all  were  cer- 
tain the  day  was  ours.  He  had  before  this 
been  driven  nearly  a  mile  and  a  half,  and 
was  be3'ond  the  Warrenton  road,  which 
was  entirely  in  our  possession  from  the 
stone  bridge  westward,  and  our  engineers 
were  just  completing  the  removal  of  the 
abattis  across  the  road,  to  allow  our  re-en- 
forcements— Schenck's  brigade  and  Ayers's 
battery — to  join  us. 

After  describing  the  condition  of  the 
confederate  army  at  this  time  as  disheart- 
ened and  broken.  General  McDowell  ex- 
plains some  of  the  causes  that  led  to  the 
disastrous  fate  which  befell  the  federal 
army.  They  had  been  fighting  since  half- 
past  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  it  was 
after  three  in  the  afternoon.  The  men  had 
been  up  since  two  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
and  had  made  what  to  those  unused  to 
such  things  seemed  a  long  march  before 
coming  into  action,  though  the  longest 
distance  gone  over  was  not  more  than  nine 
and  a  half  miles  ;  and  though  they  had 
three  days'  provisions  served  out  to  them 
the  day  before,  many  no  doubt  either  did 
not  eat  them,  or  threw  them  awa^^  on  the 
march  or  during  the  battle,  and  were 
therefore  without  food.  They  had  done 
much  severe  fighting.  Some  of  the  regi- 
ments which  had  been  driven  from  the 
hill  in  the  first  two  attempts  of  the  enemy 
to  get  possession  of  it  had  become  shaken, 
were  unsteady,  and  had  many  men  out  of 
the  ranks. 

It    was    at  this    time,    says   McDowell, 
that  the  enemy's  re-enforcements  came  to 


784 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


his  aid  from  the  railroad  train.  They 
threw  themselves  in  the  woods  on  our 
right  and  towards  the  rear  of  our  right, 
and  opened  a  fire  of  musketry  on  our  men, 
which  caused  them  to  break  and  retire 
down  the  hillside.  This  soon  degenerated 
into  disorder,  for  which  there  was  no  rem- 
edy. Every  effort  was  made  to  rally  them, 
even  beyond  the  reach  of  the  enemy's  fire, 
but  in  vain.  The  battalion  of  regular 
infantry  alone  moved  up  the  hill  opposite 
to  the  one  with  the  house  on  it,  and  there 
maintained  itself  until  our  men  could  get 
down  to  and  across  the  Warrenton  turn- 
pike, on  the  way  back  to  the  position  we 
occupied  in  the  morning.  The  plain  was 
covered  with   the    retreating  troops,   and 


they  seemed  to  infect  those  with  whom 
they  came  in  contact.  The  retreat  soon 
became  a  rout,  and  this  soon  degenerated 
into  a  panic.  Finding  tbis  state  of  affairs 
was  beyond  the  efforts  of  all  those  who 
had  assisted  so  faithfully  during  the  long 
and  hard  day's  work  in  gaining  almost  the 
object  of  their  wishes,  and  that  nothing 
remained  on  the  field  but  to  recognize 
what  could  no  longer  be  prevented.  Gen- 
eral McDowell  gave  the  necessary  orders 
to  protect  their  withdrawal,  bogging  the 
men  to  form  in  line,  and  after  the  appear- 
ance, at  least,  of  organization.  They  re- 
turned by  the  fords  to  the  Warrenton  road, 
protected  by  Colonel  Portei-'s  force  of  reg- 
ulars. Once  on  the  road,  and  the  different 
corps   coming  together    in    small    parties. 


many  without  officers,  they  became  inter- 
mingled, and  all  organization  was  lost. 

The  onset  of  that  tumultuous  retreat  is 
described  by  those  who  witnessed  it  as  ter- 
rific. For  three  miles,  hosts  of  federal 
troops — all  detached  from  their  regiments, 
all  mingled  in  one  disorderly  rout — were 
fleeing  along  the  road,  but  mostly  through 
the  lots  on  either  side.  Army  wagons, 
sutlers'  teams,  and  private  carriages, 
choked  the  passage,  tvimbling  against  each 
other,  amid  clouds  of  dust,  and  sickening 
sights  and  sounds.  Hacks,  containing 
unlucky  spectators  of  the  battle,  were 
smashed  like  glass,  and  the  occupants  were 
lost  sight  of  in  the  debris.  Horses,  flying 
wildly  from  the  battle-field,  many  of  them 
in  death  agony,  galloped  at  random  for- 
ward, joining  in  the  stampede.  Those 
on  foot  who  could  catch  them  rode  them 
bare-back,  as  much  to  save  themselves 
from  being  run  over,  as  to  make  quicker 
time.  Wounded  men,  lying  along  the 
banks — the  few  neither  left  on  the  field 
nor  taken  to  the  captured  hospitals  — 
appealed  with  raised  hands  to  those 
who  rode  horses,  begging  to  be  lifted 
behind,  but  few  regarded  such  j)eti- 
tions.  Then  the  artillery,  such  as  was 
saved,  came  thundering  along,  smashing 
and  overpowering  everything.  The  cav- 
alry added  to  all  these  terrors,  for  they 
rode  down  footmen  without  mercy. 
An  artilleryman  was  seen  running  between 
the  ponderous  fore  and  after  wheels  of  his 
gun-carriage,  hanging  on  with  both  hands, 
and  vainly  striving  to  jump  upon  the 
ordnance ;  but  the  drivers  were  spurring 
the  horses;  he  could  not  cling  much  longer, 
and  a  more  agonized  exj^ression  never 
fixed  the  features  of  a  drowning  man  ;  the 
carriage  bounded  from  the  roughness  of  a 
steep  hill  leading  to  a  creek,  he  lost  his 
hold,  fell,  and  in  an  instant  the  great 
wheels  had  crushed  the  life  out  of  him. 
And  still  the  flight  continued.  It  did  not 
slack  in  the  least  until  Centreville  was 
reached.  There  the  sight  of  the  reserve 
— Miles's  brigade — formed  in  order  on  the 
hill,  seemed  somewhat  to  reassure  the  van. 
But  still  the  teams  and  foot  soldiers  pushed 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


785 


on,  passing  their  own  camps  and  heading 
swiftly  for  the  distant  Potomac,  until  for 
ten  miles  the  road  over  which  the  grand 
army  had  so  lately  marched  southward, 
gay  with  unstained  banners,  and  flushed 
with  surety  of  strength,  was  covered  with 
the  fragments  of  its  retreating  forces,  shat- 
tered and  panic-stricken  in  a  single  day. 
From  the  branch  route  the  trains  attached 
to  Hunter's  division  had  caught  the  con- 
tagion of  the  flight,  and  poured  into  its 
already  swollen  current  another  turbid 
freshet  of  confusion  and  dismay.  The 
teamsters,  man}'  of  them,  cut  the  traces  of 
their  horses,  and  galloped  fi'om  their 
wajrons.  Others  threw  out  tlieir  loads  to 
accelerate  their  flight,  and  grain,  picks, 
and  shovels,  and  provisions  of  every  kind, 
lay  trampled  in  the  dust  for  leagues. 
Thousands  of  muskets  strewed  the  route, 
and  when  some  of  the  fugitives  were  ral- 
lied and  induced  to  form  into  a  line,  there 
was  hardly  one  but  had  thrown  away  his 
arms. 

Many  who  went  into  the  battle  with 
Heintzelman  and  Hunter  fled  by  the  road 
over  which  Tyler  had  advanced.  In  the 
general  race,  all  divisions  and  all  regiments 
were  mingled.  There  was  not  even  an 
attempt  to  cover  the  retreat  of  Tyler's 
division.  With  Heintzelman's  it  was  bet- 
ter; Lieutenant  Drummond's  cavalry 
troop  keeping  firm  line,  and  protecting  the 
artillery  until  its  abandonment  was  imper- 
atively ordered.  Regulars  and  volunteers 
shared  the  disorder  alike.  Whole  batter- 
ies were  left  upon  the  field,  and  the  cutting 
off  of  others  was  ordered  when  the  guns 
had  already  been  brought  two  miles  or 
nwre  from  the  battle-ground.  A  perfect 
frenz}'  was  upon  almost  every  man.  Some 
cried  piteously  to  be  assisted  in  their  help- 
lessness, and  others  sought  to  clamber  into 
wagons,  the  occupants  resisting  them  with 
bayonets.  Even  the  sentiment  of  shame 
had  gone.  Some  of  the  better  men  tried 
to  withstand  the  rush,  and  cried  out 
agaiast  the  flying  groups,  calling  them 
"  cowards,  poltroons,  brutes,"  and  reviling 
them  for  so  degrading  themselves,  espe- 
cially when  no  enemy  was  near. 

50 


There  were,  of  course,  numerous  excep- 
tions to  the  general  spirit  of  fear  and 
frenzy.  Thus,  when  the  order  was  given 
at  head-quarters  for  retreat,  the  word  was 
passed  down  the  line  to  the  New  York 
Zouaves.  "Do  not!"  exclaimed  a  score 
of  the  "pet  lambs"  in  a  breath;  "Do 
not  !  "  "  We  are  ordered  to  retreat,"  said 
the  commander,  to  his  brave  men. 
"  Wot'n  thunder's  that?''''  responded  one 
of  the  hard-heads,  who  evidently  did  not 
comprehend  the  word  exactly.  "  Go  bark 
— retire,"  continued  the  commander.  "  Go 
back  —  where?''''  "Leave  the  field." 
'■'■Leave?  Wliy,  that  ain't  what  we  come 
for.  We're  here  to  fight,"  insisted  the 
bo3's.  "  We  came  here  with  one  thousand 
forty  men,"  said  the  commander ;  "  and 
there  are  now  six  hundred  left.  Fall 
back,  boys!"  and  the  "lambs"  sulkily 
retired,  evidently  disj)leased  with  the 
order.  It  was  these  who  received  the  first 
charge  of  the  famous  Black  Horse  Guard, 
a  splendid  corps  of  cavalry,  all  the  horses 
of  which  were  coal-black.  They  came 
upon  the  Zouave  regiment  at  a  gallop,  and 
were  received  by  the  brave  firemen  upon 
their  poised  bayonets,  followed  instantly 
by  a  volley,  from  which  they  broke  and 
fled,  though  several  of  the  Zouaves  were 
cut  down  in  the  assault.  They  quickly 
returned,  with  their  forces  doubled — per- 
haps six  or  seven  hundred — and  again  they 
dashed  with  fearful  yells  upon  the  excited 
Zouaves.  This  time  they  bore  an  Ameri- 
can flag,  and  a  part  of  the  Zouaves  sup- 
posed for  an  instant  that  they  were  friends, 
whom  they  had  originally  mistaken.  The 
flag  was  quickly  thrown  down,  however, 
the  horses  dashed  upon  the  regiment,  the 
ruse  was  discovered,  and  the  slaughter  com- 
menced. No  quarter,  no  halting,  no  flinch- 
ing, marked  the  rapid  and  death-dealing 
blows  of  the  men,  as  they  closed  in  upon 
each  other,  in  mutual  madness  and  desi)era- 
tion.  The  brave  fellows  fell,  the  ranks  filh  d 
up,  the  sabers,  bowie-knives,  and  bayonet.-, 
glistened  in  the  sunlight,  horse  after  horse 
went  down,  platoon  after  platoon  disap- 
peared,—  the  carnage  was  d  cadful,  the 
bravery  on  both  sides  unexampK'd. 


786 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1S76. 


BATTLE  OF 


Blenker's  brigade  did  heroic  service. 
Steady  and  watchful,  he  held  his  line 
throughout  the  evening,  advancing  his 
skirmishers  at  every  token  of  attack,  and 
spreading  a  sure  protection  over  the  multi- 
tudes who  fled  disordered  through  his  col- 
umns. With  three  regiments  he  stood  to 
fight  against  an  outnumbering  host  al- 
ready flushed  with  victory  and  eager  to 
complete  its  triumph.  As  the  darkness 
increased,  his  post  became  more  perilous 
and  more  honorable.  At  eleven  o'clock,  the 
attack  came  upon  the  advance  company  of 
Colonel  Stahel's  rifles,  not  in  force,  but 
from  a  body  of  cavalry  whose  successful 
passage  would  have  been  followed  by  a  full 
force,  and  the  consequent  destruction  of 
the  broken  hosts  of  the  routed  army.  But 
tlie  cavalry  was  driven  back,  and  never 
returned,  and  at  two  in  the  morning,  the 
great  body  of  federal  troops  having  passed 
and  found  their  road  to  safety,  the  com- 


BULL  RPN. 

mand  was  given  to  retreat  in  order,  and 
the  brigade  fell  slowly  and  regularly  back, 
wi^h  the  same  precision  as  if  on  parade. 
Over  and  over  again,  Blenker  begged  per- 
mission to  maintain  his  post,  or  even  to 
advance.  ^^  lletreat !  ^'  said  he  in  a  voice 
of  thunder,  to  the  messenger  from  head- 
quarters, "  bring  me  the  word  to  go  on, 
sir  !  "  But  the  command  was  peremptory, 
and  he  was  left  no  alternative. 

As  an  illustration  of  the  almost  univer- 
sal lack  of  military  order  and  discipline 
characterizing  the  conduct  of  the  federal 
army,  after  being  seized  with  panic,  the 
following  is  in  point:  At  five  o'clock  p. 
M.,  the  New  York  Sixteenth  and  Thirty- 
first  regiments  being  well  in  advance 
toward  Blackburn's  ford,  were  called  upon 
to  stem  the  tide  of  the  Virginia  cavalry, 
who  were  swooping  at  the  retreating 
forces.  An  order  from  Miles,  conse- 
quently,   sent    the    First    California  regi- 


GREAT  AND  MEiMORABLE  EVENTS. 


787 


ment,  under  Colonel  Matheson  of  the  New 
York  Thirty -second,  forward  to  their  sup- 
port; but,  though  the  cavaliy  was  thus 
turned  to  the  riglit  about,  it  was  found 
impossible  to  withstand  the  mad  career  of 
the  extraordinary  mass  that  came  pouring 
back  upon  Centreville.  The  best  that 
could  be  done,  therefore,  was  for  the  Cali- 
fornia regiment  to  stay  just  where  it  was, 
and,  in  absence  of  further  orders,  lend 
Avhat  aid  it  could  to  the  protection  of 
Green's  batter}',  which  was  busily  plying 
its  fire  upon  the  harassing  approaclies  of 
the  Virginia  horse.  While  the  Thirfy- 
second  was  in  this  position,  the  Sixteenth 
and  Thirty-first  having  passed  within  its 
range,  a  youthful  orderly  rode  up  to  Colonel 
IVIatheson  to  inform  that  the  Black  Cav- 
alry, sheltered  from  his  observation  by  a 
piece  of  woods,  were  coming  upon  the 
right,  and  if  he  would  take  a  cut  with  his 
regiment  across  the  fields,  they  would  be 
turned  back  upon  their  errand.  The  evo- 
lution was  performed,  gave  the  protection 
that  was  desired,  and  the  Black  Horse 
gave  up  its  purpose  in  that  quarter. 
While  the  regiment,  however,  was  adher- 
ing to  this  position,  the  same  youth  who 
had  imparted  the  previous  suggestion  rode 
up  to  the  regiment  again,  and  told 
Matheson  he  had  better  fall  back  on 
Centreville,  as  his  duty  at  that  spot 
had  been  thoroughly  performed.  As  this 
was  the  first  sign  of  orders  (with  one 
single  exception)  he  had  received  dur- 
ing the  entire  day,  Matheson  felt  some 
curiosity  to  learn  who  this  young  lieu- 
tenant was,  and  whence  these  orders 
came ;  he  therefore  turned  sharply  on 
the  youth,  who,  he  now  perceived,  could 
not  be  more  than  twenty-two  or  three, 
and  said: 

"  Young  man,  I  would  like  to  know  your 
name." 

"  I  am  a  son  of  Quartermaster-General 
Meigs." 

"  By  whose  authority,  then,  do  you  de- 
liver me  these  orders  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,"  replied  the  youth,  smiling, 
"the  truth  is,  that  for  the  last  few  hours 
I  have  been  giving  all  the  orders  for  this 


division,   and  acting  as   general,  too,  for 
there  is  no  general  on  the  field." 

Tlie  fortunes  of  war  seemed  to  favor  the 
confederate  army,  in  some  respects  quite 
unlooked  for,  during  the  day's  struggle, 
though  at  one  time  their  fate  hung  trem- 
bling in  the  balance.  Generals  Bartow  and 
Bee  had  been  stricken  down ;  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Johnson,  of  the  Hampton  Legion, 
had  been  killed;  and  Colonel  Hampton 
had  been  wounded.  General  Beauregard, 
however,  promptly  offered  to  lead  the 
Legion  into  action,  which  he  executed  in 
a  style  unsurpassable.  He  rode  up  and 
down  the  lines  between  the  federal  troops 
and  his  own  men,  regardless  of  the  heavy 
firing,  cheering  and  encouraging  his 
troops.  About  this  time,  a  shell  struck 
his  horse,  taking  his  head  off,  and  also 
killing  the  horses  of  two  of  his  aids. 
General  Johnston  threw  himself  into  the 
thickest  of  the  fight,  seizing  the  colors  of 
the  Georgia  regiment,  and  rallying  them 
to  the  charge.  At  this  critical  moment. 
General  Johnston  was  heard  to  exclaim  to 
General  Cocke,  "  Oh,  for  four  regiments  ! " 
His  wish  was  answered,  for  in  the  distance 
some  re-enforcements  appeared.  The  tide 
of  battle  now  turned  in  their  favor,  for 
Gen.  Kirby  Smith  had  arrived  from  Win- 
chester with  four  thousand  men.  General 
Smith  heard  while  on  the  Manassas  rail- 
road cars  the  roar  of  battle.  He  stopped 
the  train  and  hurried  his  troops  across  the 
field  to  the  point  just  where  he  had  been 
most  needed.  They  were  at  first  supposed 
to  be  federal  troops,  their  arrival  at  that 
point  of  the  field  being  so  entirely  unex- 
pected. Jefferson  Davis  left  Richmond 
at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  reached 
Manassas  Junction  at  four,  where,  mount- 
ing a  horse,  and  accompanied  by  numerous 
attendants,  he  galloped  to  the  battle-field 
just  in  time  to  join  in  the  pursuit  by  a 
magnificent  body  of  cavalry.  As  he  waved 
his  hat,  and  exclaimed  ''Onward,  my  brave 
comrades!"  cheer  after  cheer  went  up 
from  the  enthusiastic  host.  Thus,  with 
the  arrival  of  Davis  on  the  field,  the  con- 
federate army  may  be  said  to  have  had 
three     commanders-in-chief     during    the 


788 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


course  of  the  battle.  The  whole  south 
was,  of  course,  jubilant  over  the  victory 
which  their  arms  had  achieved.  Te 
Deiims  were  sung  in  the  churches,  and  a 
day  of  thanksgiving  observed.  Through- 
out the  north,  the  gloom  and  humilia- 
tion at  this  most  unlooked-for  defeat  was 
intense. 

According  to  General  McDowell's  report, 
the  federal  army's  losses  in  this  engage- 
ment were  481  killed  and  1,011  wounded. 
The  confederate  losses,  according  to  Gen- 
eral Beauregard's  report,  counted  up  269 
killed  and  1,533  wounded.  An  immense 
quantity  of  ordnance,  ammunition,  etc., 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  victors. 


In  the  summer  of  1865,  on  the  return  of 
peace,  a  monument  was  erected  by  friends 
of  the  Union,  about  three-fourths  of  a  mile 
beyond  Bull  Run  bridge,  in  "memory  of 
the  patriots"  who  fell  in  this  celebrated 
battle,  and  the  dedicatory  ceremonies 
consisted  of  a  solemn  dirge,  the  reading 
of  the  Episcopal  burial-service,  the  singing 
of  an  original  hymn  composed  by  Pierpont, 
and  addresses  by  Generals  Wilcox,  Farns- 
worth,  Heintzelman,  and  others.  The 
interest  attaching  to  this  famous  battle- 
field, viewed  in  all  its  historic  circum- 
stances and  consequences,  is  not  exceeded 
by  that  of  any  other  on  the  American  con- 
tinent. 


XCII. 

EXTRAORDINARY  COMBAT  BETWEEN  THE  IRON-CLADS 
MERRIMAC  AND  MONITOR,  IN  HAMPTON 

ROADS.— 18G2. 


SuilJen  Appearance  of  the  Merrimac  Among  the  Federal  Frigates — Tlieir  Swift  and  Terrible  Dt&truc- 
tion  by  Her  Steel  Prow. — Unexpected  Arrival  of  tiie  "  Little  Monitor"  at  the  Scene  of  Action. — Slie 
Engages  and  Disables  the  Monster  Craft  in  a  Four  Hours'  Fight. — Total  Revolution  in  Naval  War- 
fare the  World  Over  by  this  Remarkable  Contest. — How  the  Merrimac  Changed  Hands. — Burned  and 
Sunk  at  Norfolk,  Va  — Her  Hull  Raised  by  the  Confederates. — She  is  Iron  Roofed  and  Plated, — Proof 
Against  Shot  and  Shell. — A  Powerful  Steel  Beak  in  Her  Prow. — Most  Formidable  Vessel  Afloat  — 
In  Command  of  Commodore  Buchanan. — Departs  from  Norfolk,  March  8th. — Pierces  and  Sinks  the 
Cumberland. — Next  Attacks  the  Congress. — The  Noble  Frigate  Destroyed. — Fight  Begun  with  the 
Minnesota. — Suspended  at  Nightfall. — Trip  of  the  Monitor  trom  New  York. — Her  New  and  Singular 
Build. — Lieutenant  Worden  Hears  of  the  Battles. — Resolves  to  Grapple  with  the  Monster. — The  Two 
Ti)gether,  Next  Day — A  Scene  Never  to  be  Forgotten. — Worden  Turns  the  Tide  of  Fortune. — 
Repulse  and  Retreat  of  the  Merrimac. 


"  Bb  !T  Rksolved,  etc.,  That  the  thnnk"  nf  CongrPBS  nnd  of  the  American  prople  are  due,  ond  are  hereby  tendered,  to  Liontenant  J. 
L.  Worden.  of  the  United  States  Nuvv.  and  to  the  nCiceifi  and  men  ot  the  iron-clad  gun-bnat  Monitor,  nnder  his  command,  for  the  skill  and 

?ill  mtry  exhibited  bv  them  in  the  late  remaikuble  baitle  bctweea   the  Monitor  and  the  rebel  iion-clad  bteamer  Merrimac." — Resolution 
'aS3LD   by   CO.VOUES3. 


UTTTING  the  city  of  Norfolk,  Ya.,  on  the  eighth 
ot  March.  1862,  the  confederate  iron-chid  steam- 
ram  Merrimac  sailed  down  Elizabeth  river  into 
Hampton  Eoads,  Chesapeake  Bay,  and  there  sig- 
nalized the  naval  history'  ol  the  civil  war  in  Amer- 
ica by  an  action  not  only  memorable  beyond  all 
others  in  that  tremendous  conflict,  but  altogether 
unprecedented  in  the  annals  of  ocean  warfare  in 
any  country  or  in  any  age.  On  the  abandonment 
and  destruction,  by  fire,  of  the  Norfolk  navy  yard, 
in  April,  1861,  by  the  United  States  officers  in 
charge,  among  the  vessels  left  behind  was  the 
steam  frigate  Merrimac,  of  four  thousand  tons 
burden,  then  under  repair.  In  the  conflagration 
she  was  burned  to  her  copper-line,  and  down 
ixTERiou  OF  THE  TowEK  OF  THE  MONITOR,  througli  to  hcr  bcrth-dcck,  which,  with  her  spar 
and  gun-decks,  was  also  burned.  Soon  after  the  confederate  authorities  took  possession 
of  the  navy  yard,  the  Merrimac  was  raised  and  converted  into  an  iron-plated  man-of-war 
of  the  most  formidable  character.     Immediately  after  this,  she  was  placed  upon  the  dry 


790 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


dock,  and  covered  with  a  sloping  roof  of 
iron  plates  three  inches  thick,  the  weight 
of  which  nearly  broke  her  down  upon  the 
dock.  Owing  to  some  miscalculation  when 
launched,  she  sank  four  feet  deeper  than 
before,  and  took  in  considerable  water.  She 
was,  in  consequence,  obliged  to  be  docked  a 
second  time.  Her  hull  was  cut  down  to 
within  three  feet  of  her  water-mark,  over 
which  the  bomb-proof  house  covered  her 
gun-deck.  She  was  also  iron-plated,  and  her 
bow  and  stern  steel-clad,  with  a  projecting 
snout  of  iron  for  the  purpose  of  piercing 
an  antagonist.  She  had  no  masts,  and 
there  was  nothing  to  be  seen  over  her  gun- 
deck  but  the  pilot-house  and  smoke-stack. 
Her  bomb-proof  was  three  inches  thick, 
and  consisted  of  wrought  iron.  Her  arma- 
ment consisted  of  four  eleven-inch  navy 
guns,  broadside,  and  two  one-hundred- 
pounder  rifled  guns  at  the  bow  and  stern. 
She  was  now  named  the  Virginia,  though 
she  continued  to  be  known  as  the  ]\Ierri- 
mac.  She  was  commanded  by  Com.  Frank- 
lin Buchanan,  formerly  commandant  of  the 
AVashington  navy  yard. 

The  time  chosen  for  her  departure  for 
Hampton  Roads  was  one  peculiarly  adapted 
for  the  trial  of  her  prowess.  The  federal 
fleet  in  that  vicinity  comprised  the  sloop- 
of-war  Cumberland,  the  sailing-frigate 
Congress,  the  steam-frigates  Minnesota, 
St.  Lawrence,  and  Roanoke — the  latter  in 
a  disabled  condition  from  a  broken  shaft, 
together  with  a  number  of  improvised 
gun-boats  of  a  small  grade.  The  Cumber- 
land and  Congress  were  anchored  before 
the  entrenched  federal  camp  at  Newport 
News,  the  Roanoke  and  St.  Lawrence  near 
the  Rip  Raps,  and  the  Minnesota  in  front 
of  Fortress  Monroe. 

On  the  ^Mcrrimac  coming  out,  on  Satur- 
day, the  eighth  of  March,  she  stood  directly 
across  the  roads  toward  Newport  News. 
What  followed  was,  according  to  the  nar- 
rative publislied  in  tlie  Baltimore  Ameri- 
can by  one  who  had  unusually  favorable 
opportunities  of  observation,  in  the  order 
of  occurrence  given  below  : 

As  soon  as  the  Merrimac  was  made  out 
and  her   direction    ascertained    (says    the 


narrative  referred  to),  the  crews  were  beat 
to  quarters  on  both  the  Cumberland  and 
Congress,  and  preparations  made  for  what 
was  felt  to  be  an  almost  hopeless  fight,  but 
the  determination  to  make  it  as  desperate 
as  possible.  The  Merrimac  kept  straight 
on,  making,  according  to  the  best  estimates, 
about  eight  miles  an  hour.  As  she  passed 
the  mouth  of  Nansemond  river,  the  Con- 
gress threw  the  first  shot  at  her,  which 
was  immediately  answered.  The  Merri- 
mac passed  the  Congress,  discharging  a 
broadside  at  her, — one  shell  from  which 
killed  and  disabled  every  man  except  one 
at  gun  No.  Ten, — and  kept  on  toward  the 
Cumberland,  which  she  ajjprOached  at  full 
speed,  striking  her  on  the  port  side  near 
th'3  bow,  her  stem  knocking  port  No.  One 
and  the  bridle-port  into  one,  whilst  her 
ram,  or  snout,  cut  the  Cumberland  under 
water.  Almost  at  the  moment  of  collision, 
the  Merrimac  discharged  from  her  forward 
gun  an  eleven-inch  shell.  This  shell  raked 
the  whole  gun-deck,  killing  ten  men  at 
gun  No.  One,  among  whom  was  master- 
mate  John  Harrington,  and  cutting  off 
both  arms  and  legs  of  quarter-gunner 
Wood.  The  water  rushed  in  from  the  hole 
made  below,  and  in  five  minutes  the  ship 
began  to  sink  by  the  head.  Shell  and 
solid  shot  from  the  Cumberland  were  rained 
upon  the  Merrimac  as  she  passed  ahead, 
but  the  most  of  them  glanced  off  harm- 
lessly from  the  incline  of  her  iron-plated 
bomb-proof. 

As  the  Merrimac  rounded  to  and  came 
up,  she  again  raked  the  Cumberland  with 
a  heavy  fire.  At  this  fire,  sixteen  men  at 
gun  No.  Ten  were  killed  or  wounded,  and 
all  subsequently  carried  down  in  the  sink- 
ing ship.  Advancing  with  increased  mo- 
mentum, the  Merrimac  now  struck  the 
Cumberland  on  the  starboard  side,  smash- 
ing her  upper  works  and  cutting  another 
hole  below  the  water-line. 

The  ill-fated  Cumberland  now  began  to 
rapidly  settle,  and  the  scene  became  most 
horrible.  The  cock-pit  was  filled  with  the 
wounded,  whom  it  was  found  impossible 
to  bring  up.  The  former  magazine  was 
under  water,  but  powder  v.as  still  supplied 


(JllEAT  AND  MExMOIlABLE  EVENTS. 


791 


from  tlie  after-magazine,  and  tlie  firing 
kept  steadily  up  by  men  who  knew  that 
the  ship  was  sinking  under  them.  They 
worked  desperately  and  unremittingly,  and 
amid  the  din  and  horror  of  the  conflict 
gave  cheers  for  their  flag  and  the  Union, 
which  were  joined  in  by  the  wounded. 
The  decks  were  slippery  with  blood,  and 
arms  and  legs  and  chunks  of  flesh  were 
strewed  about.  The  Merrimac  laid  off  at 
easy  point-blank  range,  discharging  her 
broadsides  alternately  at  the  Cumberland 
and  the  Congress.  The  water  by  this  time 
liad  reached  the  after-magazine  of  the 
Ciimborlaud.  The  men,  however,  kept  at 
work,  and  several  cases  of  powder  were 
passed  up  and  the  guns  kept  in  play.     A 


drowned.  When  the  order  was  given  to 
cease  firing,  and  to  look  out  for  their  safety 
in  the  best  way  jjossible,  numbers  scam- 
l^ered  through  the  port-holes,  whilst  others 
reached  the  spar-deck  by  the  companion- 
ways.  Some  were  unable  to  get  out  by 
either  of  these  means,  and  were  carried  by 
the  rapidl}'^  sinking  ship. 

The  Cumberland  sank  in  water  nearly  to 
her  cross-trees.  She  went  down  with  her 
flag  still  flying,  and,  for  some  time  after, 
it  might  still  be  seen  flying  from  the  mast 
above  the  water  that  overwhelmed  the 
noble  ship, — a  memento  of  the  bravest, 
most  daring,  and  3'et  most  hopeless  defense 
that  was  ever  made  by  any  vessel  belong- 
ing to  any  navy  in  the  world.     The  men 


^c^^^Ci^f^^  JiZu /^*^^^^ 


number  of  men  in  the  after  shell-room  lin- 
gered there  too  long  in  their  eagerness  to 
pass  up  shell  and  were  drowned. 

By  this  time  the  water  had  reached  the 
berth  or  main  gun-deck,  and  it  was  felt 
hopeless  and  useless  to  continue  the  fight 
longer.  The  word  was  given  for  each  man 
to  save  himself  ;  but  after  this  order,  gun 
No.  Seven  was  fired,  when  the  adjoining 
gun,  No.  Six,  was  actually  under  water. 
This  last  shot  was  fired  by  an  active  little 
fellow  named  Matthew  Tenney,  whose 
courage  had  been  conspicuous  throughout 
the  action.  As  his  port  was  left  open  by 
the  recoil  of  the  gun,  he  jumped  to  scram- 
ble out,  but  the  water  rushed  in  with  so 
much  force  that  he  was  washed  back  and 


fought  with  a  courage  that  could  not  be 
excelled  ;  there  was  no  flinching,  no  thought 
of  surrender.  The  whole  number  lost,  of 
the  Cumberland's  crew,  was  one  hundred 
and  twenty.  Many  of  the  scenes  on  board 
were  deeply  affecting.  Two  of  the  gunners 
at  the  bow-guns,  when  the  ship  was  sink- 
ing, clasped  their  guns  in  their  arms,  and 
would  not  be  removed,  and  went  down 
embracing  them.  One  gunner  had  both 
his  legs  shot  away;  but  he  made  three 
steps  on  his  bloody  thighs,  seized  the  lan- 
yard and  fired  his  gun,  falling  back  dead. 
Wood,  who  lost  both  arms  and  legs,  on 
being  offered  assistance,  cried  out,  '■^Back 
to  your  guns,  hoys  !  Give  'em  fits  !  lin ;•- 
rah  for  the  flag  !  "     He  lived  till  she  sank. 


792 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Having  tliorouglil}'  demolished  the  Cum- 
herland,  the  Merriniac  now  proceeded  to 
deal  with  the  Congress,  the  officers  of 
which,  having  seen  the  fate  of  the  Cum- 
berland, and  aware  that  the  Congress  must 
also  be  sunk  if  she  remained  within  reach 
of  the  iron  monster's  beak,  had  got  all  sail 
on  the  ship,  with  the  intention  of  running 
her  ashore.  The  tug-boat  Zouave  also 
came  out  and  made  fast  to  the  Cumberland, 
and  assisted  in  towing  her  ashore. 

The  Merrimac  then  surged  up,  gave  the 
Congress  a  broadside,  receiving  one  in 
return,  and  getting  astern,  raked  the  Con- 
gress fore  and  aft.  This  fire  was  terribly 
destructive,  a  shell  killing  every  man  at 
one  of  the  guns  except  one.  Coming  again 
broadside  to  the  Congress,  the  Merrimac 
ranged  slowly  backward  and  forward,  at 
less  than  one  hundred  yards  distant,  and 
fired  broadside  after  broadside  into  the 
Congress.  The  latter  vessel  rejilied  man- 
fully and  obstinately,  every  gun  that  could 
be  brought  to  bear  being  discharged  rap- 
idly, but  with  little  effect  upon  the  iron 
monster.  Some  of  the  balls  caused  splint- 
ers of  iron  to  fly  from  her  mailed  roof,  but 
still  she  seemed  well  nigh  invulnerable. 
The  Merrimac's  guns  appeared  to  be  spe- 
cially trained  on  the  after-magazine  of  the 
Congress,  and  shot  after  shot  entered  that 
part  of  the  ship. 

Thus  slowly  drifting  down  with  the 
current  and  again  steaming  up,  the  Merri- 
mac continued  for  an  hour  to  fire  into  her 
opponent.  Several  times  the  Congress  was 
on  fire,  but  the  flames  were  kept  down. 
Final]}',  the  ship  was  on  fire  in  so  many 
j)laces,  and  the  flames  gathering  such  force, 
that  it  was  hopeless  and  suicidal  to  keep 
up  the  defense  any  longer.  The  federal 
flag  was  sorrowfully  hauled  down  and  a 
white  flag  hoisted  at  the  peak.  After  it 
was  hoisted,  the  Merrimac  continued  to 
fire,  perhaps  not  discovering  the  white  flag, 
but  soon  after  ceased  firing. 

A  small  confederate  tug  that  had  fol- 
lowed the  Merrimac  out  of  Norfolk  then 
came  alongside  the  Congress,  and  a  young 
officer  gained  the  gun-deck  through  a  port- 
hole, amioiiiiced  that  he  came  on  board  to 


take  command,  and  ordered  the  officers  on 
board  the  tug.  The  officers  of  the  Con- 
gress refused  to  go,  hoping  from  the  near- 
ness to  the  shore  that  they  would  be  able 
to  reach  it,  and  unwilling  to  become  j^ris- 
oners  whilst  the  least  chance  of  escai)e 
remained.  Some  of  the  men,  thinking  the 
tug  was  a  federal  vessel,  rushed  on  board. 
At  this  moment,  the  members  of  an  Indi- 
ana regiment,  at  Newport  News,  brought 
a  Parrott  gun  down  to  the  beach  and 
opened  fire  upon  the  tug.  The  latter 
hastily  put  off,  and  the  Merrimac  again 
opened  fire  upon  the  Congress.  The  fire 
not  being  returned  from  the  ship,  the  Mer- 
rimac commenced  shelling  the  woods  and 
camps  at  NewjDort  News. 

By  the  time  all  were  ashore,  it  was 
seven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  the  Con- 
gress was  in  a  bright  sheet  of  flame  fore  and 
aft.  She  continued  to  burn  until  twelve 
o'clock  at  night,  her  guns,  which  were 
loaded  and  trained,  going  off  as  they  became 
heated.  Finally,  the  fire  reached  her  mag- 
azines, and  with  a  tremendous  concussion 
her  charred  remains  blew  up.  There  were 
some  five  tons  of  gunpowder  in  her  mag- 
azines, and  about  twenty  thousand  dollars 
in  the  safe  of  paymaster  Buchanan,  the 
latter  officer  being  an  own  brother  to  the 
commander  of  the  Merrimac.  The  loss  of 
life  on  board  the  Congress  was  lamentable. 

After  sinking  the  Cumberland  and  firing 
the  Congress,  the  Merrimac  (with  lier 
companions  the  Yorktown  and  James- 
town,) stood  off  in  the  direction  of  the 
]\Iinnesota,  which,  in  trying  to  reach  the 
scene  of  action,  had  run  aground,  and 
could  not  be  moved.  An  exchange  of  sliot 
and  shell,  however,  took  place  between  tlie 
vessels,  after  which,  nightfall  setting  in, 
the  Merrimac  steamed  in  under  Sewall's 
Point,  expecting  the  next  day  to  capture 
the  Minnesota  as  a  prize,  instead  of  destroy- 
ing her.  The  day  thus  closed  dismally  for 
the  federal  side,  and  with  the  most  gloomy 
apprehensions  of  what  would  occur  tlie 
next  day.  The  Minnesota  wjis  at  tlie 
mercy  of  the  Merrimac,  and  there  appeared 
no  reason  why  the  iron  monster  might  not 
clear  the   Roads  of   the    whole  fleet,  and 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


793 


destroy  all  the  stores  ami  warehouses  on 
the  beach.  Saturday,  therefore,  was  a 
night  of  terror  at  Fortress  Monroe. 

But  just  here,  the  chief  event  of  interest 
centers.  It  was  at  night,  the  moon  sliin- 
ing  brightly,  when,  totally  unexpected, 
there  came  into  those  blood-<lyed  waters, 
tlie  little  gun-boat  Monitor,  from  New  York, 
— a  vessel  which  had  just  been  completed, 
from  designs  of  Mr.  Ericsson,  and  differ- 
ing materially''  from  any  vessel  ever  before 
constructed,  and  believed  by  its  inventor 
to  be  absolutely  invulnerable.  Externally, 
it  had  the  api»earance  of  a  long,  oval  raft, 
rising  only  eighteen  inches  above  the 
water,  with  a  low,  round  tower  upon  its 
center.  This  raft  was  the  upper  part  of 
tlie  hull  of  the  vessel,  and  was  plated  with 
iron  so  as  to  be  ball-proof;  it  projected  on 
ever}'  side  beyond  the  lower  hull,  which 
contained  the  machinery.  The  tower,  con- 
taining two  heav}'^  g'^i'iS;  the  only  arma- 
ment of  the  battery,  was  of  iron,  and  nearly 
a  foot  in  thickness,  and  so  constructed  as 
to  revolve,  bringing  the  guns  to  bear  ujion 
any  point.  This  tower,  nine  feet  high  and 
twenty  in  diameter,  and  a  pilot-house,  ris- 
ing three  feet,  were  all  that  appeared  upon 
the  smooth,  level  deck.  She  was  com- 
manded by  Lieutenant  Worden,  U.  S.  N,, 
and,  though  a  mere  pigmy,  in  size  and 
armament,  compared  with  the  ]\Ierrimac, 
was  soon  to  measure  her  prowess  with  the 
latter,  in  a  contest  such  as  liad  never 
entered  into  the  imagination  even  of  Mr. 
Ericsson  himself. 

The  succeeding  day,  Sunday,  dawned 
fair.  As  the  sun  broke  on  the  horizon,  a 
slight  haze  was  visible  on  the  water,  which 
prevented  an  extended  vision.  At  half 
past  six,  A.  M.,  this  haze  cleared  away. 
Looking  toward  Sewall's  Point,  there 
appeared  the  jNIerrimac,  and  her  attend- 
ants, the  steamers  Yorktown  and  Patrick 
Henry.  They  were  stationary, — the  Mer- 
rimac  to  the  right  of  the  others,  blowing 
off  steam.  They  seemed  deliberating  wliat 
to  do — whether  to  move  on  to  attempt  the 
destruction  of  the  Minnesota,  which  was 
yet  aground,  or  move  on  to  the  federal 
fleet  anchored    near  the  Eip  Eaps.      At 


seven  o'clock,  a  plan  seemed  to  have  been 
adopted,  and  the  JMerrimac  steamed  in  the 
direction  of  the  Minnesota,  which  was  still 
aground.  The  Yorktown  and  Jamestown 
were  crowded  with  troops,  and  steamed 
slowly  after  the  Merrimac.  The  latter 
steamed  along  with  boldness  until  she  was 
within  three  miles  of  the  Minnesota,  when 
the  Monitor  essayed  from  behind  the  lat- 
ter, and  proceeded  toward  the  Merrimac. 
It  should  here  be  mentioned,  that  when 
Lieutenant  AVorden  first  arrived  in  the 
Roads  and  was  informed  of  what  had 
occurred,  though  his  crew  were  suffering 
from,  exjiosure  and  loss  of  rest  from  a 
stormy  voyage  around  from  New  York,  he 
at  once  made  i^rejiarations  for  taking  part 
in  whatever  might  take  place  the  next  day. 
To  this  end,  the  Monitor  moved  up,  before 
daylight  on  Sunday  morning,  and  took  a 
position  alongside  tlie  Minnesota,  lying 
between  the  latter  ship  and  the  fortress, 
where  she  could  not  be  seen  by  the  enemy, 
but  was  ready,  with  steam  up,  to  slip  out. 

At  the  sudden  appearance  of  so  strange- 
looking  and  diminutive  a  craft  as  the  Mon- 
itor, the  confederate  monster  seemed  non- 
plussed, and  hesitated,  no  doubt  in  wonder- 
ment that  such  an  unaccountable  and 
apparently  insignificant  an  object  should 
be  making  so  bold  an  approach. 

The  Merrimac  now  closed  the  distance 
between  her  and  the  Monitor,  until  they 
were  within  a  mile  of  each  other.  Both 
batteries  stopped.  The  Merrimac  fired  a 
shot  at  the  Minnesota,  to  which  no  reply 
was  made.  She  then  fired  at  the  Monitor  ; 
the  latter  replied,  hitting  the  Merrimac 
near  the  v.-ater-line.  The  Merrimac  then 
commenced  firing  very  rapidlj^,  first  from 
her  stern  gun  at  the  Monitor,  and  then 
her  broadside  guns,  occasionally  firing  a 
shot  at  the  Minnesota.  The  fight  went  on 
in  this  way  for  an  hour  or  two,  both  ves- 
sels exchanging  shots  pretty  freely.  Some- 
times the  Merrimac  would  retire,  followed 
by  the  Monitor,  and  sometimes  the  reverse. 

While  the  fight  between  the  batteries 
was  going  on,  one  hundred  solid  nine-inch 
shot  were  sent  up  from  Fortress  Monroe 
on  the  steamer  Rancocas  to  the  Minnesota. 


791 


OCR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


At  a  quarter-past  ten  o'clock,  the  IMerri- 
mac  and   Monitor   had   come    into   pretty 
close  quarters,  the  former  giving  the  latter 
two    broadsides    in    succession.       It    was 
replied  to  promptly  by  the  Monitor.     The 
firing  was   so   rapid  that  both   craft  were 
obscured  in  columns  of  white  smoke  for  a 
moment  or  more.       The  ramparts  of  the 
fort,  the  rigging  of  the  vessels  in  port,  the 
houses,   and   the   bend,   were   all   crowded 
with  sailors,  soldiers  and  civilians.     "When 
the  rapid  firing  alluded  to  took  place,  these 
spectators    were    singularly    silent,    as    if 
doubtful  as  to  the  result.    Their  impatience 
was  soon  removed  by  the  full  figure  of  the 
Monitor,  with  the  stars  and  stripes  flying 
at  her  stern,  steaming  around   the  Merri- 
^  mai",  moving  with   the   ease  of  a  duck  on 
5  the  water.     The  distance  between  the  ves- 
£  sels   was  forty  feet.     In  this  circuit,  the 
r  Monitor's  guns  were  not  idle,  as  she  fired 
^  shot  after  shot  into  her  antagonist,  two  of 
s  which  penetrated  the  monster's  sides. 
§      At  eleven,  A.  m.,  the  Minnesota  opened 
«  fire,  and  assisted  the  Monitor  in  engaafinrr 
s  the   Merrimac.     She  fired  nine-inch  solid 
g  shot  with   good  accuracy,  but  with  appar- 
%  ently  little  effect.     The  Merrimac  returned 
g  the  fire,  firing   shell,  one  of   which  struck 
%  and   exploded  the  boiler  of  the   gun-boat 
s  Dragon,  which  was  alongside  the  Minne- 
j  sota,  endeavoring  to  get  her  off.     For  the 
>  next  hour,  the  battle  raged  fiercely  between 
^  the   Merrimac   on   the   one   side,  and  her 
antagonists,  the   Monitor,  Minnesota,  and 
Whitehall,  but  with  no  important  result. 
The  Minnesota  being   the  best  mark  for 
the   Merrimac,  the  latter  fired  at  her  fre- 
quently, alternately  giving  the  IMonitor  a 
shot.  The  Merrimac  made  several  attempts, 
also,  to  run  at  full  speed  past  the  Monitor, 
to   attack   and  run   down   the  Minnesota. 
All  these  attempts  were  i)arried,  as  it  were, 
by  the  ]\Idnitor.     In  one  of  these  attempts 
by  the  Merrimac,  she  ran  her  prow  or  ram 
with  full  force    against   the  side   of   the 
Monitor;     but  it   only  had  the   effect  of 
careening  the  latter  vessel  in  the  slightest 
degree.    The  Yorktown  and  Patrick  Henry 
kept  at  a  safe  distance  from  the  Monitor. 
The  former  vessel,  at  the  beginning  of  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


■95 


fight,  had  the  temerit}^  to  come  within 
respectable  range  of  the  ^lonitor.  The 
latter  fired  one  shot  at  her,  which  carried 
away  her  pilot-house,  and  caused  hei  to  lose 
no  time  in  retiring. 

As  the  Monitor  carried  but  two  gung, 
whilst  the  Merriniac  had  eight,  of  course 
she  received  two  or  three  shots  for  every 
one  she  gave.  The  fight  raged  hotly  on 
both  sides,  the  opposing  batteries  moving 
around  each  other  with  great  skill,  ease, 
and  dexterity.  The  Merrimac,  though  the 
strongest,  did  not  move  with  the  alertness 
of  her  antagonist ;  hence  the  Monitor  had 
the  advantage  of  taking  choice  of  position. 
At  a  quarter  before  twelve  o'clock,  noon, 
Lieutenant  Hepburn,  the  signal  officer  on 
the  ramparts  at  Fortress  Monroe,  reported 
to  General  Wool  that  the  Monitor  had 
pierced  the  sides  of  the  Merrimac,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  the  latter  was  in  full  retreat. 
Whether  true,  or  not,  that  the  Merrimac's 
armor  had  actually  been  penetrated,  her 
iron  prow  had  become  so  wrenched  in 
striking  the  sides  of  her  antagonist,  that 
the  timbers  within  were  started,  and  the 
vessel  leaked  badly.  The  little  Monitor 
followed  the  retreating  Merrimac  until  she 
got  well  inside  Sewall's  Point,  and  then 
returned  to  the  Minnesota.  It  is  probable 
that  the  pursuit  would  have  been  con- 
tinued still  farther,  but  Lieutenant  Worden 
had  previously  had  his  eyes  injured,  and  it 
was  felt  that,  as  so  much  depended  on  the 
Monitor,  it  was  imprudent  to  expose  her 
unnecessarily.  At  the  time  he  was  injured. 
Lieutenant  Worden  was  looking  out  of  the 
eye-holes  of  the  pilot-house,  which  were 
simply  horizontal  slips,  half  an  inch  wide. 
A  round  shot  struck  against  these  slits  as 
Lieutenant  Worden  was  looking  through, 
causing  some  scalings  from  the  iron  and 
fragments  of  cement  to  fly  with  great  force 
against  his  ej^es,  utterly  blinding  him  for 
some  days,  and  permanently  destroying 
the  power  of  his  left  eye.  Stunned  by 
the  concussion,  he  was  carried  away 
helpless. 

On  recovering  sufficiently  to  speak,  he 
asked — 

"  Have  I  saved  the  Minnesota  ?  " 


"  Yes,  and  tvhipped  the  Merrlmac,^^  was 
the  answer. 

"  Then  I douH  care  what  becomes  ofmej" 
said  Lieutenant  Worden. 

No  other  real  damage  was  received  by 
the  Monitor,  during  the  action  ;  the  deep- 
est indentation  received  by  her  was  on 
the  side,  amounting  to  four  and  one-half 
inches;  on  the  turret,  the  deepest  was  one 
and  one-half  inches  ;  and  on  the  deck,  one- 
half  inch.  The  Merrimac,  in  addition  to 
the  injury  already  mentioned,  had  her 
anchor  and  flag-staff  shot  away,  her  smoke- 
stack and  steam-pipe  riddled,  two  of  her 
crew  killed  and  eight  Avounded,  including 
her  commander,  Buchanan.  The  latter 
officer  went  out  on  his  deck,  was  seen  by 
the  federal  sharp-shooters  at  Camp  Butler, 
and  was  shot  with  a  minie  rifle  ball  in  his 
left  leg,  which  maimed  him  for  life.  His 
exploits  gained  him  great  favor  at  the 
south,  and  he  was  subsequently  made 
Admiral  of  the  Confederate  States  navy. 
The  praises  of  Lieutenant  Worden  filled 
every  loyal  mouth,  and  he  was  successfully 
promoted  to  the  highest  rank  in  the  ser- 
vice. 

Withdrawing  to  Norfolk,  the  INIerrimac 
underwent  extensive  repairs  for  some 
weeks,  and  was  provided  with  ordnance  of 
great  power.  She  then  took  her  station 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Elizabeth  river,  guard- 
ing it,  and  threatening  the  United  States 
vessels  in  the  Roads,  but,  on  account  of 
some  defects  in  her  working,  not  ventur- 
ing an  attack.  Finally,  Norfolk  having 
surrendered  to  the  Union  forces.  May  10th, 
and  the  Merrimac  being  found  to  draw  too 
much  water  to  admit  of  her  being  removed 
up  the  river,  she  was  on  the  12th  aban- 
doned and  set  on  fire,  and  soon  after  blew 
up. 

The  loss  of  two  sucti  fine  war  vessels  as 
the  Cumberland  and  Congress,  with  some 
four  hundred  brave  men,  cast  a  gloom  over 
the  nation,  the  weight  of  which  was  only 
relieved  by  the  heroism  displayed  in  their 
defense.  Indeed,  one  of  the  greatest  in- 
stances of  patriotic  devotion  ever  recorded 
in  our  own  or  any  other  nation's  naval  his- 
tory, is  that  which    narrates    the  closing 


7'JG 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


scene  on  board  tlie  Cumberland.  Neither 
the  shots  of  the  Congress,  nor  of  tlie  Cum- 
berland, had  any  more  effect,  for  the  most 
part,  upon  the  iron-mailed  Merrimac,  than 
if  they  had  been  so  many  peas.  But  if 
they  could  have  kept  the  Merrimac  off,  she 
never  could  have  sunk  the  Cumberland. 
They  had  then  nothing  to  do  but  stand  and 
fight  and  die  like  men.  Buchanan  asked 
their  commander,  Lieutenant  Morris — 
"  Will  you  surrender  the  ship  ?  " 
"Never,"  said  Morris,  "never  will  we 
surrender  the  ship." 

Buchanan  then  backed  his  huge  ram  off 
again,  and  the  Cumberland  fired  as  rapidly 
as  she  could,  but  the  Merrimac  came  once 
more  and  ran  her  steel  beak  in ;  and  now 
it  was  that  Buchanan  asked  Lieutenant 
Morris,  calling  him  by  name — 


"  Mr  INIorris,  will  you  surrender  that 
ship?" 

"Never,"  said  Morris,  "sink  her!" 

The  remaining  act  in  this  startling 
drama  is  well  known.  The  guns  of  the 
Cumberland  were  coolly  manned,  loaded 
and  discharged,  while  the  vessel  was  in  a 
sinking  condition,  and  the  good  ship  went 
down  with  her  flag  flying  defiantly  at  the 
gaff 

Similar  was  the  bravery  exhibited  on 
board  the  ill-fated  Congress.  The  father 
of  the  gallant  commander  of  that  ship 
(Lieutenant  Jose)  h  Smith),  who  lost  his 
life  in  that  terrible   encounter,  was  Com- 


modore Joseph  Smith,  of  Washington.  It 
appears  that  the  elder  Smith  had  exerted 
himself  specially  to  finish  the  work  on  the 
Monitor,  and  hasten  her  departure.  The 
son,  too,  had  written  repeatedly  to  the 
naval  authorities  at  Washington,  express- 
ing his  fears  for  the  consequences  of  an 
attack  from  the  Merrimac,  and  urging 
plans  for  guarding  against  it.  The  father 
knew  the  spirit  of  his  son,  and  that  the 
only  issue  of  a  battle  for  him  was  death  or 
victory.  When  he  saw,  therefore,  by  the 
first  disi^atch  from  Fortress  Monroe,  that 
the  Congress  had  raised  the  white  flag,  he 
only  remarked  quietly,  "Joe  is  dead!" 
No  Roman  father  ever  paid  a  nobler  or 
more  emphatic  tribute  of  confidence  to  a 
gallant  son  than  is  contained  in  the  words 
so  uttered,  nor  ever  gave  that  son  to  his 
country  Avith  more  cheerful  and 
entire  devotion.  The  sad  assur- 
ance was  well  founded.  The  flag 
was  not  struck  until  his  son  had 
fallen. 

Not  less  conspicuous  was  the 
conduct  of  Charles  Johnston,  boats- 
wain of  the  Congress — a  fine  speci- 
men of  the  thorough  seaman,  who 
had  been  in  the  navy  some  thirty 
odd  years — who  greatly  excited  the 
admiration  of  the  ofiicers  by  his 
cool,  unflinching  courage.  Sta- 
tioned in  the  very  midst  of  the 
carnage  committed  by  the  raking 
fire  of  the  Merrimac,  he  never  lost 
his  self-possession,  and  not  for  a 
moment  failed  to  cheer  on  and  encourage 
the  men.  Blinded  with  the  smoke  and 
dust,  and  splashed  with  the  blood  and 
brains  of  his  s]iij)mates,  his  cheering  words 
of  encouragement  were  still  heard.  After 
the  engagement,  from  which  he  escaped 
unwounded,  his  kindness  and  care  in  i)ro- 
viding  for  the  removal  of  the  wounded, 
were  untiring.  The  fact  has  already  been 
mentioned  that  the  paymaster  of  the  Con- 
gress was  an  own  brother  of  the  con - 
mander  of  the  Merrimac.  His  position 
was  one  of  extreme  agony,  but  his  loyal 
heart  did  not  fail  him.  "Just  before  the 
sanguinary  engagement,"  said  paymaster 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


797 


Buclianan,  "I  volunteered  my  serv- 
ices to  Lieut.  Commanding  Joseph  B. 
Smith  for  duty  on  either  of  the  upper 
decks,  although  the  rebel  steamer  Mer- 
riniac  was  commanded  by  my  own 
brother,  when  I  received  an  order  to  take 
charge  of  the  berth-deck  division,  which 
order    I    promptly    obeyed,    and,    thank 


God,  I  did  some    service  to   my  beloved 
country." 

The  character  of  this  contest  may  truly 
be  said  to  have  astonished  the  world,  and 
its  effect  has  been  to  revolutionize  the 
principles  and  mode  of  naval  warfare,  ren- 
dering wooden  vessels  of  war  practically 
useless  for  active  service. 


XCIIL 

BATTLE  OF  ANTIETAM,  MD.— 1862. 


Bloodiest  Day  Tliat  America  Ever  Saw. — Nearly  One  Hundred  Thousand  Men  on  Each  Side. — General 
McClellan  Declares  on  the  Field  that  it  is  "  the  Battle  of  the  War." — Four  Miles  and  Fourteen  Hours 
of  Fighting  and  Slaughter  — The  Shock  and  "  Glory  "  of  War  on  a  Colossal  Scale. — Obstinate  Brav- 
ery of  the  Contending  Foes. — Some  of  the  Regiments  Almost  Annihilated. — The  Union  Troops 
Hold  the  Disputed  Ground. — Lee's  Great  Military  Object — His  Troops  Enter  Maryland. — Frowning 
Masses  of  Soldiery. — Surrender  of  Harper's  Ferry. — McClellan's  Army  in  Motion. — He  Attacks  the 
Enemy  in  Position. — Hooker  Leads  the  Advance. — He  is  Shot  and  Disabled. — Death  of  General 
Mansfield. — Other  Union  Generals  Wounded. — Keno's  Untimely  End. — Rain  of  Shot  and  Shell. — 
Various  Fortunes  of  the  Day. — Close  and  Stern  Ordeal — Feat  of  Burnside's  Corps  — Their  Struggle 
for  the  Hill. — A  Fearful  Crisis  with  General  Burnside. — He  Asks  for  Re-enforcements. — McClellan's 
Memorable  Reply. — Driving  the  Enemy  en  masse. — Forty  of  their  Colors  Taken. — The  Afier-Scene 
of  Horror. 


"  Our  forces  »1ppt  that  ni?ht  coTlt{ue^'^ra  on  a  field  won  by  their  valor,  and  covered  with  the  dead  and  wounded  of  the  enemy."— Gew- 
BBAL  McClbllan'8  Official  Kei-uki. 


EAVY  and  melancholy  as  was  the  loss  of  life 
attending  the  bloody  battle  of  Aaitietam,  on  the 
17th  of  September,  1862,  between  the  Union 
and  confederate  armies — numbering  about  one 
hundred  thousand  brave  soldiers  each — and  com- 
manded, respectively,  by  General  McClellan  and 
General  Lee,  a  burden  of  anxiety  was  rolled  off 
the  loyal  hearts  of  the  North,  when,  on  the 
evening  of  that  day,  there  came  from  General 
Hooker  the  following  thrilling  di.'jpatch,  dated 
at  Centreville,  Md. : 

"  A  great  battle  has  been  fought,  and  we  are 
victorious.  I  had  the  honor  to  open  it  yesterday 
afternoon,  and  it  continued  until  ten  o'clock  this 
morning,  when  I  was  wounded,  and  compelled 
to  quit  the  field.  The  battle  was  fought  with 
great  violence  on  both  sides.  The  carnage  has 
been  awful.  I  only  regret  that  I  was  not  per- 
mitted to  take  part  in  the  operations  until  they 
were  concluded,  for  I  had  counted  on  either  cap- 
turing their  army  or  driving  them  into  the  Potomac.  My  wound  has  been  painful,  but 
it  is  not  one  that  will  be  likely  to  lay  me  up.     I  was  shot  through  the  foot." 

One  great  object  of  General  Lee,  during  the  summer  of  this  year,  was  to  possess 


BURVI.NG  THE  DEAD  AT  ANTIETAM. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORAliLE  EVENTS. 


7U9 


himself  of  Harper's  Ferry,  as  the  base  of 
future  aiul  more  important  operations.  To 
this  eiul,  the  confederate  forces  under  Gen- 
erals Jackson,  Longstreet,  and  Hill,  en- 
tered Frederick,  Md.,  in  the  early  part  of 
September,  and  occupied  all  the  adjoining 
country,  their  right  resting  on  the  Mono- 
cacy  river.  The  federal  army,  which  with 
the  exception  of  about  fourteen  thousand 
men  at  Harper's  Ferry,  had  been  concen- 
trated near  Washington,  and  had  been 
placed  under  the  immediate  command  of 
General  McClellan,  advanced  to  meet  the 
enemy.  Passing  up  the  Potoniac,  they 
interposed  in  force  between  the  confeder- 
ates and  the  fords  b}'  which  they  had 
crossed,  threatening  to  cut  off  their  re- 
treat in  case  they  should  be  defeated. 
Perceiving  this,  the  confederates  aban- 
doned Frederick,  and  went  northward  to 
Hagerstown,  which  was  occupied  Septem- 
ber 11th.  A  strong  body  was  then  sent  to 
attack  Harper's  Ferry.  The  assault  was 
opened  on  the  12th  and  continued  on  the 
following  day,  when  the  federal  troops 
were  driven  from  the  heights  on  the  Marj^- 
land  side.  On  Monday  morning  the  place 
was  fairly  surrounded,  and  fire  was  opened 
from  seven  or  eight  different  points.  On 
the  morning  of  the  loth.  Colonel  Miles, 
commander  at  Harper's  Ferrj^,  ordered  the 
white  flag  to  be  raised,  to  General  Jackson ; 
a  few  moments  after,  he  w^as  struck  by  a 
shot  which  mortally  wounded  him.  The 
cavalry,  numbering  some  two  thousand, 
who  had  been  at  the  Ferry,  cut  their  way 
through  the  enemy's  lines  and  escaped; 
the  remainder  of  the  troops,  to  the  number 
of  about  eleven  thousand,  surrendered,  and 
were  imiiiediately  paroled.  The  i>osses- 
sion  of  the  place  was  of  considerable  ad- 
vantage to  the  confederates,  though  they 
retained  it  but  for  one  day ;  the  bridge 
over  the  Potomac  not  being  destroyed 
enabled  them  to  cross  the  river,  and  take 
part  in  the  battle  of  Antietam,  which  fol- 
lowed on  the  17th. 

A  close  pursxiit  was  kept  up  by  the  fed- 
eral army,  and,  early  on  the  morning  of 
the  14th,  the  advance  —  the  right  and 
center  under  Hooker  and  Reno,  the  left 


under  Franklin — came  up  with  the  enemy, 
who  were  strongly  posted  on  the  crest  of 
the  South  Mountain,  commanding  the  road 
to  Hagerstown.  The  attack  on  both  wings, 
which  lasted  from  noon  until  nightfall,  re- 
sulted in  forcing  the  confederates  from  all 
their  positions,  so  that  they  retreated  during 
the  night  in  the  direction  of  Williamsport. 
In  this  action.  General  Reno  was  killed. 
Having  hastily  abandoned  Harper's  Ferry, 
the  confederates  re-crossed  the  Potomac, 
and  joined  the  main  body  under  Lee. 

In  the  meantime,  McClellan  had  defi- 
nitely made  his  arrangements  for  giving 
battle  to  the  opposing  liosts.  In  accord- 
ance with  this  plan,  as  detailed  by  McClel- 
lan, in  his  official  report.  Hooker's  corps, 
consisting  of  Rickett's  and  Doubleday's 
divisions,  and  the  Pennsylvania  reserves, 
under  Meade,  was  sent  across  the  Antie- 
tam creek,  by  a  ford  and  bridge  to  the 
right  of  Kedysville,  with  orders  to  attack, 
and,  if  possible,  turn  the  enemy's  left. 
Mansfield,  with  his  corps,  was  sent  in  the 
evening  to  support  Hooker.  Arrived  in 
position,  Meade's  division  of  the  Pennsyl- 
vania reserves,  which  was  at  the  head  of 
Hooker's  corjjs,  became  engaged  in  a  sharp 
contest  with  the  enemj^,  which  lasted  until 
after  dark,  when  it  had  succeeded  in  driv- 
ing in  a  portion  of  the  opposing  line,  and 
held  the  ground.  At  daylight  the  contest 
was  renewed  between  Hooker  and  the 
enemy  in  his  front.  Hooker's  attack  was 
successful  for  a  time,  but  masses  of  the 
enemy,  thrown  upon  his  corps,  checked  it. 
Mansfield  brought  up  his  corps  to  Hook- 
er's support,  when  the  two  corps  drove  the 
enemy  back,  the  gallant  and  distinguished 
veteran  Mansfield  losing  his  life  in  the 
effort.  General  Hooker  was,  unhappilj', 
about  this  time  wounded,  and  compelled  to 
leave  the  field,  where  his  services  had 
been  conspicuous  and  important.  About 
an  hour  after  this  time,  Sumner's  corps, 
consisting  of  Sedgwick's,  Richardson's,  and 
French's  divisions,  arrived  on  the  field — 
Richardson's  some  time  after  the  other 
two,  as  he  was  unable  to  start  as  soon  as 
they.  Sedgwick,  on  the  right,  penetrated 
the  woods  in  front  of  Hooker's  and  Mans- 


800 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


field's  troops.  French  and  Richardson 
were  placed  to  the  left  of  Sedgwick,  thus 
attacking  the  enemy  toward  their  left 
center.  Crawford's  and  Sedgwick's  lines, 
however,  yielded  to  a  destructive  fire  of 
masses  of  the  enemy  in  the  woods,  and, 
suffering  greatly,  (Generals  Sedgwick  and 
Crawford  being  among  the  wounded,)  their 
troops  fell  back  in  disorder ;  they,  never- 
theless, rallied  in  the  woods.  The  enemy's 
advance  was,  however,  entirely  checked 
by  the  destructive  fire  of  our  artillery. 
Franklin,  who  had  been  directed  the  day 
before  to  join  the  main  army  with  two 
divisions,  arrived  on  the  field  from  Browns- 
ville about  an  hour  after,  and  Smith's 
division  replaced  Crawford's  and  Sedg- 
wick's lines.     Advancing  steadily,  it  swept 


over  the  ground  just  lost,  but  now  permji- 
nently  retaken.  The  divisions  of  French 
and  Richardson  maintained  with  consider- 
able loss  the  exposed  positions  which 
they  had  so  gallantly  gained,  among  the 
wounded  being  General  Richardson. 

The  condition  of  things  (says  General 
McClellan,)  on  the  right,  toward  the  mid- 
dle of  the  afternoon,  notwithstanding  the 
success  wrested  from  the  enemy  by  the 
stubborn  bravery  of  the  troops,  was  at  this 
time  unpromising.  Sumner's,  Hooker's, 
and  Mansfield's  corps  had  lost  heavily, 
several  general  officers  having  been  carried 


from  the  field.  I  was  at  one  time  com- 
pelled to  draw  two  brigades  from  Porter's 
corps  (the  reserve)  to  strengthen  the  right. 
This  left  for  the  reserve  the  small  division 
of  regulars  who  had  been  engaged  in  sup- 
porting during  the  day  the  batteries  in  the 
center,  and  a  single  brigade  of  Morell's 
division.  The  effect  of  Burnside's  move- 
ment on  the  enemy's  right  was  to  prevent 
the  further  massing  of  their  troops  on 
their  left,  and  we  held  what  we  had  gained. 
Burnside's  corps,  consisting  of  Wilcox's, 
Sturgis's,  and  Rodman's  divisions,  and 
Cox's  Kanawha  division,  was  intrusted 
with  the  difficult  task  of  carrying  the 
bridge  across  the  Antietam,  near  Rohr- 
back's  farm,  and  assaulting  the  enemy's 
right,  the  order  having  been  communicated 
to  him  at  ten  A.  M.  The  valley  of  the 
Antietam,  at  and  near  the  bridge,  is  nar- 
row, with  high  banks.  On  the  right  of 
the  stream  the  bank  is  wooded,  and  com- 
mands the  approaches  both  to  the  bridge 
and  the  ford.  The  steep  slopes  of  the 
bank  were  lined  with  ritle-pits  and  breast- 
works of  rails  and  stones.  These,  together 
with  the  woods,  were  filled  with  the  enemy's 
infantry,  while  their  batteries  completely 
commanded  and  enfiladed  the  bridge  and 
ford  and  their  approaches.  The  advance  of 
the  troops  brought  on  an  obstinate  and  san- 
guinary contest,  and  from  the  great  natu- 
ral advantages  of  the  position,  it  was 
nearly  one  o'clock  before  the  heights  on 
the  right  bank  were  carried.  At  about 
three  o'clock,  P.  M.,  the  corps  again  ad- 
vanced, and  with  success,  driving  the 
enemy  before  it,  and  pushing  nearly  to 
Sharpsburg,  while  the  left,  after  a  hard 
encounter,  also  compelled  the  enemy  to  re- 
tire before  it.  The  enemy  here,  however, 
were  speedily  re-enforced,  and  with  over- 
whelming masses.  New  batteries  of  their 
artillery,  also,  were  brought  up  and  opened. 
It  became  evident  that  our  force  was  not 
sufficient  to  enable  the  advance  to  reach 
the  town,  and  the  order  was  given  to  retire 
to  the  cover  of  the  hill,  which  was  taken 
from  the  enemy  earlier  in  the  afternoon. 

Of  these  brilliant  movements,   thus   so 
briefly  referred  to  by  General  McClellan, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


801 


a  most  graphic  and  admirable  account  was 
furnished  by  Mr.  Smalley,  a  brilliant 
writer  and  an  eye-witness,  for  the  New 
York  Tribune,  a  portion  of  which  is  here 
transcribed. 

After  describing  the  gloomy  condition 
of  the  federal  troops  on  the  right  at  one 
o'clock,  Mr.  Smalley  says  :  All  that  had 
been  gained  in  front  had  been  lost !  The 
enemy's  batteries,  which,  if  advanced  and 
served  vigorouslj^,  might  have  made  sad 
work  with  the  closely-massed  troops,  were 
fortunately  either  partially  disabled  or 
short  of  ammunition.  Sumner  was  confi- 
dent that  he  could  hold  his  own,  but  an- 


other advance  was  out  of  the  question. 
The  enemy,  on  the  other  hand,  seemed  to 
be  too  much  exhausted  to  attack.  At  this 
crisis  Franklin  came  up  with  fresh  troops 
and  formed  on  the  left.  Slocum,  com- 
manding one  division  of  the  corps,  was 
sent  forward  along  the  slopes  lying  under 
the  first  ranges  of  rebel  hills,  while  Smith, 
commanding  the  other  division,  was  or- 
dered to  retake  the  cornfields  and  woods 
which  all  day  had  been  so  hotly  contested. 
It  was  done  in  the  handsomest  style.  His 
Maine  and  Vermont  regiments  and  the 
rest  went  forward  on  the  run,  and,  cheer- 
ing as  they  went,  swept  like  an  avalanche 
through  the  cornfields,  fell  upon  the  woods, 
cleared  them  in  ten  minutes,  and  held 
them.  They  were  not  again  retaken. 
51 


The  field  and  its  ghastly  harvest  which 
the  reaper  had  gathered  in  these  fatal 
hours  finally  remained  with  us.  Four 
times  it  had  been  lost  and  won. 

The  splendid  feat  of  Burnside  holding 
the  hill  was  one  of  the  memorable  deeds  on 
that  day  of  earnest  action.     At  four  o'clock 
(says  Mr.  Smalley,)  McClellan  sent  simul- 
taneous orders  to  Burnside  and  Franklin ; 
to  the  former  to  advance  and  carry  the 
batteries  in  his  front  at  all  hazards  and  at 
any  cost ;  to  the  latter,  to  carry  the  woods 
next  in  front  of  him  to  the  right,  which 
the  rebels  still  held.     The  order  to  Frank- 
lin,   however,    was    practically     counter- 
manded, in  consequence  of  a  message  from 
General  Sumner,  that  if  Franklin  went  on 
and  was  repulsed,  his  own  corps  was  not 
yet  sufficiently  reorganized  to  be  depended 
on  as  a   reserve.      Burnside    obeyed   the 
order  most  gallantly.     Getting  his  troops 
well  in  hand,  and  sending  a  portion  of  his 
artillery  to  the  front,  he  advanced  them 
with    rapidity    and   the   most   determined 
vigor,  straight  up  the  hill  in  front,  on  top 
of  which  the  confederates  had  maintained 
their  most  dangerous  battery.     The  move- 
ment was    in  plain   view   of  McClellan's 
position,  and  as  Franklin  on  the  other  side 
sent  his  batteries  into  the  field  about  the 
same  time,  the  battle  seemed  to  open  in 
all   directions  with   greater  activity  than 
ever.     The  fight  in  the  ravine  was  in  full 
progress,  the  batteries  which  Porter  sup- 
ported were  firing  with  new  vigor,  Frank- 
lin  was  blazing  away  on  the  right,  and 
every  hill-toj^,  ridge,  and  piece  of  woods 
along  the  whole  line  was  crested  and  veiled 
with  white  clouds  of  smoke.     All  day  had 
been    clear    and    bright    since    the    early 
cloudy  morning,  and  now  this  whole  mag- 
nificent, unequaled  scene,  shone  with  the 
splendor  of  an  afternoon   September  sun. 
Four  miles  of  battle,  its  glory  all  visible, 
its  horrors  all  veiled,  the  fate  of  the  re- 
public  hanging  on   the   hour — could   any 
one  be  insensible  to  its  grandeur  ?     There 
are  two  hills  on  the  left  of  the  road,  the 
furthest  the  lowest.     The  rebels  have  bat- 
teries on  both.  Burnside  is  ordered  to  carry 
the  nearest  to  him,  which  is  the  furthest 


802 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


".■':i;.ifc!i!i 


il„,     ^"    I 


mm 


from  the  road.  His  guns  opening  first 
from  this  new  position  in  front,  soon 
entirely  controlled  and  silenced  the  ene- 
my's artillery.  The  infantry  came  on  at 
once,  moving  rapidly  and  steadily  up, 
long  dark  lines,  and  broad  dark  masses, 
being  plainly  visible  without  a  glass  as 
they  moved  over  the  green  hill-side. 
Underneath  was  a  tumult  of  wagons, 
guns,  horses,  and  men  fl^'ing  at  speed 
down  the  road.  Blue  flashes  of  smoke 
burst  now  and  then  among  them,  a 
horse  or  a  man  or  a  half-dozen  went 
down,  and  then  the  whirlwind  swept  on. 
The  lill  was  carried,  but  could  it  be 
held  ?  The  rebel  columns,  before  seen 
moving  to  the  left,  increased  their  jjace. 
The  guns,  on  the  hill  above,  sent  an 
angry  tempest  of  shell  down  among 
Burnside's  guns  and  men.  He  had 
formed  his  columns  apparently  in  the 
near  angles  of  two  fields  bordering  the 
road — high  ground  about  them  every- 
where except  in  rear.  In  another  mo- 
ment a  rebel  battle-line  appears  on  the 
brow  of  the  ridge  aboA'e  them,  moves 
swiftly  down  in  the  most  perfect  order, 
and  though  met  by  incessant  discharges 
of  musketry,  of  which  we  jilainly  see 
the  flashes,  does  not  fire  a  gun.  White 
spaces  show  where  men  are  falling,  but 
they  close  up  instantly,  and  still  the 
line  advances.  The  brigades  of  Burn- 
side  are  in  heavy  column  ;  they  will  not 
give  way  before  a  bayonet  charge  in  line. 
The  rebels  think  twice  before  they  dash 
into  these  hostile  masses.  There  is  a 
halt ;  the  rebel  left  gives  way  and  scat- 
ters over  the  field;  the  rest  stand  fast 
and  fire.  More  infantry  comes  up ; 
Burnside  is  outnumbered,  flanked,  com- 
pelled to  yield  the  hill  he  took  so  bravely. 
His  position  is  no  longer  one  of  attack; 
he  defends  himself  with  unfaltering 
firmness,  but  he  sends  to  McClellan  for 
help.  McClellan's  glass  for  the  last  half 
hour  has  seldom  been  turned  away  from 
the  left.  lie  sees  clearly  enough  that 
Burnside  is  pressed — needs  no  messen- 
ger to  tell  him  that.  His  face  grows 
darker   with   anxious  thought.      Look- 


GEEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


803 


ing  down  into  the  valley,  where  fifteen 
thousand  troops  are  lying,  he  turns  a  half- 
questioning  look  on  Fitz  John  Porter, 
who  stands  by  his  side,  gravely  scan- 
ning the  field.  They  are  Porter's  troops 
below,  are  fresh,  and  only  impatient  to 
share  in  this  fight.  But  Porter  slowly 
shakes  his  head,  and  one  may  believe  that 
the  same  thought  is  passing  through  the 
minds  of  both  generals — 

"  They  are  the  only  reserves  of  the 
army  :  they  cannot  he  spared.^^ 

McClellan  remounts  his  horse,  and  with 
Porter  and  a  dozen  officers  of  his  staff  rides 
away  to  the  left  in  Burnside's  direction. 
Sykes  meets  them  on  the  road — a  good 
soldier,  whose  opinion  is  worth  taking. 
The  three  generals  talk  briefly  together. 
It  is  easy  to  see  that  the  moment  has  come 
when  everything  may  turn  on  one  order 


GENERAL  "STONEWALL"  JACKSON. 

given  or  withheld,  when  the  history  of  the 
battle  is  only  to  be  written  in  thoughts 
and  purposes  and  words  of  the  General. 
Burnside's  messenger  rides  up.  His  mes- 
sage is — 

"  I  want  troops  and  guns.  If  you  do 
not  spare  them,  I  cannot  hold  my  position 
for  half  an  hour." 

McClellan's  only  answer  for  the  moment 
is  a  glance  at  the  western  sky.  Then  he 
turns  and  says  very  slowly — 

"  Tell  General  Burnside  that  this  is  the 
battle  of  the  war.  He  must  hold  his 
ground  till  dark  at  any  cost.  I  will  send 
him  Miller's  battery.  I  can  do  nothing 
more.     I  have  no  infantry." 

Then,  as  the  messenger  was  riding 
away,  he  called  him  back  : 


"  Tell  him  if  he  can  not  hold  his  ground, 
then  the  bridge  to  the  last  man  ! — always 
the  bridge  !  If  the  bridge  is  lost,  all  is 
lost." 

The  sun  was  already  down ;  not  half  an 
hour  of  daylight  was  left.  Till  Burnside's 
message  came,  it  had  seemed  plain  to  every 
one  that  the  battle  could  not  be  finished 
to-day.  None  suspected  how  near  was  the 
peril  of  defeat,  of  sudden  attack  on  ex- 
hausted forces — how  vital  to  the  safety  of 
the  army  and  the  nation  were  those  fifteen 
thousand  waiting  troops  of  Fitz  John  Por- 
ter in  the  hollow.  But  the  rebels  halted 
instead  of  pushing  on ;  their  vindictive  can- 
nonade died  away  as  the  light  faded.  Be- 
fore it  was  quite  dark,  the  battle  was  over. 

With  the  day,  (says  the  official  report  of 
the  commanding  general,)  closed  this 
memorable  battle,  in  wdiich,  perhaps, 
nearly  two  hundred  thousand  men  were 
for  fourteen  hours  engaged  in  combat. 
We  had  attacked  the  enemy  in  position, 
driven  them  from  their  line  on  one  flank, 
and  secured  a  footing  within  it  on  the 
other.  Under  the  depression  of  previous 
reverses,  we  had  achieved  a  victory  over  an 
adversary  invested  with  the  prestige  of 
former  successes  and  inflated  with  a  recent 
triumph.  Our  forces  slept  that  night  con- 
querors on  a  field  won  by  their  valor,  and 
covered  with  the  dead  and  wounded  of  the 
enemy. 

This  has  been  called  the  Moodiest  day 
that  America  ever  satv,  and  the  fighting 
was  followed  by  the  most  appalling  sights 
upon  the  battle-field.  Never,  perhaps,  was 
the  ground  strewn  with  the  bodies  of  the 
dead  and  the  dying  in  greater  numbers  or 
in  more  shocking  attitudes.  The  faces  of 
those  who  had  fallen  in  the  battle  were, 
after  more  than  a  day's  exposure,  so  black 
that  no  one  would  ever  have  suspected 
that  they  were  once  white.  All  looked 
like  negroes,  and  as  they  lay  in  piles  where 
they  had  fallen,  one  upon  another,  they 
filled  the  bystanders  with  a  sense  of  horror. 
In  the  road,  they  lay  scattered  all  around, 
and  the  stench  which  arose  from  the 
bodies  decomposing  in  the  sun  was  almost 
unendurable.     Passing  along  the  turnpike 


804 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


from  Sharpsburg  to  Hagerstown,  that 
night,  it  required  the  greatest  care  to  keep 
one's  horse  from  trampling  upon  the  dead, 
so  thickly  were  they  strewn  around.  Along 
the  line  for  not  more  than  a  single  mile,  at 
least  one  thousand  five  hundred  there  lay 
unburied. 

Such  a  spectacle  was  in  keeping,  of 
course,  with  the  terrible  carnage  incident 
to  such  a  prolonged  and  constant  contest 
between  two  such  vast  armies.  The  loss 
of  the  union  forces  in  this  battle  was, 
according  to  General  McClellan,  two  thou- 
sand and  ten  killed,  nine  thousand  four 
hundred  and  sixteen  wounded,  and  one 
thousand  and  forty-three  missing;  and 
their  total  loss  in  the  battles  of  the  14th 
and  17th  amounted  to  fourteen  thousand 
seven  hundred  and  ninety-four.  Of  the 
confederates  killed,  about  three  thousand 
were  buried  by  the  unionists,   and  their 


t^l^^C^^n 


total  loss  in  the  two  battles  was  estimated 
by  General  McClellan  at  four  thousand 
killed,  eighteen  thousand  seven  hundred 
and  forty-two  wounded,  and  five  thousand 
prisoners,  besides  stragglers  sufficient  to 
make  the  number  amount  to  some  thirty 
thousand.  From  the  time  the  union 
troops  first  encountered  the  confederates  in 
Maryland  until  the  latter  were  driven  back 
into  Virginia,  (says  McClellan,)  we  cap- 
tured thirteen  guns,  seven  caissons,  nine 
limbers,  two  field  forges,  two  caisson  bod- 
ies, thirty-nine  colors,  and  one  signal  flag; 
the  union  army  lost  neither  gun  nor  color. 


The  confederates  also  lost  three  of  their 
bravest  generals,  Starke,  Branch,  and 
Anderson. 

General  Reno's  death  was  a  severe  blow 
to  the  union  army.  He  had  been  most 
active  all  day,  fearing  no  danger,  and 
appearing  to  be  everywhere  at  the  same 
time.  Safe  up  to  seven  o'clock,  no  one 
dreamed  of  such  a  disaster  as  was  to  hap- 
pen. He,  with  his  staff,  was  standing  a 
little  back  of  the  wood,  on  a  field,  the  con- 
federate forces  being  directly  in  front.  A 
body  of  his  troops  were  just  before  him, 
and  at  this  point  the  fire  of  the  confeder- 
ates was  directed.  A  minie-ball  struck 
him  and  went  through  his  body.  He  fell, 
and,  from  the  first,  appeared  to  have  a 
knowledge  that  he  could  not  survive  the 
wound  he  had  received.  He  was  instantly 
carried,  with  the  greatest  care,  to  the  rear, 
followed  by  a  number  of  the  officers,  and 
attended  by  the  division  surgeon,  Doctor 
Cutter.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill  he  was  laid 
under  a  tree ;  he  died  without  the  least 
movement,  a  few  minutes  after.  The 
grief  of  the  officers  at  this  calamit}"^  was 
heart-rending.  The  old  soldier,  just  come 
from  the  scene  of  carnage,  with  death  star- 
ing him  in  the  face  on  every  side,  here 
knelt  and  wept  like  a  child ;  indeed,  no 
eye  w^as  dry  among  those  present.  Thus 
died  one  of  the  bravest  generals  that  was 
in  the  service  of  his  country,  and  the  intel- 
ligence of  his  death  was  received  by  all 
with  the  greatest  sorrow,  as  it  was  well 
known  that  but  few  could  take  the  place 
of  so  able  and  brave  an  officer.  The  com- 
mand of  the  corps  devolved  upon  General 
Cox,  who,  from  that  time,  directed  the 
movements  of  the  army. 

The  fighting  qualities  of  the  southern 
soldiers,  in  this  battle,  may  be  judged  of 
by  the  fact  that  the  Fiftieth  Georgia  regi- 
ment lost  nearly  all  their  commissioned 
officers,  and  that  at  night,  after  the  battle, 
only  fifty-five  men,  of  the  whole  regiment, 
remained  fit  for  duty, — nor  did  they  have 
anything  to  oat  and  drink  for  more  than 
forty-eight  hours.  This  regiment  was 
posted  in  a  narrow  path,  washed  out  into 
a  regular  gully,  and  was  fired  into  by  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


805 


unionists  from  the  front,  tlie  rear  and  left 
flank.  The  men  stood  their  ground  un- 
waveringly, returning  fire  until  nearly 
two-thirds  of  their  number  lay  dead  or 
wounded  in  that  lane.  Out  of  two  hun- 
dred and  ten  carried  into  the  fight,  over 
one  hundred  and  twenty-five  were  killed 
and  wounded  in  less  than  twenty  minutes. 
The  slaughter  was  horrible.  When  or- 
dered to  retreat,  the  living  could  scarcely 
extricate  themselves  from  the  dead  and 
wounded  lying  around — a  man  could  have 
walked  from  the  head  of  the  line  to  the 
foot  on  their  bodies.  The  survivors  of  the 
regiment  retreated  very  orderly  back  to 
where  General  Anderson's  brigade  rested. 
The  brigade  suffered  terribly.  James's 
South  Carolina  battalion  was  nearly  anni- 
hilated. 

There  were  not  wanting,  also,  incidents 
of  that  class  which  show  the  qualities  of 
ludicrousness  and  cunning  in  human  na- 
ture, as,  for  instance,  the  following : 

The  New  York  One  Hundred  and  Sev- 
enth regiment  supported  Cotheren's  bat- 
tery ;  and,  during  the  hottest  part  of  the 
fight,  the  confederates  massed  themselves 
opposite  the  union  front,  for  an  assault  on 
Cotheren's  position.  The  battery  was 
short  of  ammunition,  and  so  reserved  their 
fire,  while  throughout  the  whole  field  there 
came  a  lull  in  the  tumult.  The  confeder- 
ates advanced  in  a  solid  mass,  with  a  pre- 
cision of  movement  perfectly  beautiful. 
It  was  a  moment  which  tried  the  nerves  of 
the  bravest.  In  the  meantime,  one  of  the 
lads, — a  noted  sporting  character — becom- 
ing quite  interested  in  tlie  affair,  had 
climbed  a  rock  where  he  could  view  the 
whole  scene.  He  occupied  the  place,  un- 
mindful of  the  bullets  which  were  buzzing 
like  bees  all  around.  The  confederates 
came  on  until  the  unionists  could  see  their 
faces,  and  then  Cotheren  poured  the  canis- 
ter into  them.  The  advancing  column 
was  literally  torn  to  pieces  by  the  fire. 
At  this,  the  lad  on  the  rock  became  almost 
frantic  in  his  demonstrations  of  delight, 
and  as  one  of  the  battery  sections  sent  a 
shrapnel  which  mowed  down  in  an  instant 
a  long  row  of  confederates,  he  swung  his 


cap,  and,  in  a  voice  that  could  be  heard  by 
the  flying  enemy,  shouted  out,  *'  Bull-e-e- 
e-e  !   Set  'em  up  on  the  other  alley  !  " 

General  Sumner  had  a  son,  a  captain  on 
his  staff,  who  was  but  twenty-one  years  of 
age.  During  the  battle,  when  the  bullets 
were  whistling  around  the  general's  ears, 
he  found  it  necessary  to  send  the  young 
man  upon  a  mission  of  duty  to  a  certain 
portion  of  the  field.  After  giving  him  the 
requisite  instructions,  the  general  em- 
braced him  and  said,  "  Good-by,  Sammy." 
*'  Good-by,  father,"  was  the  response,  and 
the  captain  rode  forth  upon  his  mission. 
On  his  return  from  his  perilous  errand,  the 
fond  father  grasped  his  hand,  with  the 
simple  remark,  '*  How  d'ye  do,  Sammy?" 
The  spectators  of  this  filial  scene  were 
much  affected. 

A  union  soldier  belonging  to  a  New 
York  regiment  was  wounded  in  the  should- 
ers. After  dark,  missing  his  regiment,  he 
became  lost  in  the  woods,  and  went  in  the 
direction  of  the  enem3^  Seeing  a  party  of 
men  ahead,  he  called  out,  "  What  regiment 
do  you  belong  to  ?  "  They  answered, 
"  The  Third  South  Carolina.  What  do  you 
belong  to  ?  "  "  The  Tenth  Virginia,"  was 
the  ready  and  apt  reply  ;  saying  which,  he 
moved  off  in  the  opposite  direction,  and 
soon  joined  some  union  soldiers.  His  wits 
saved  him. 

The  report  of  this  battle  by  Mr.  Smal- 
ley,  in  the  New  York  Tribune,  was  pro- 
nounced by  General  Hooker,  in  a  conver- 
sation with  Mr.  George  Wilkes  (himself  an 
accomplished  journalist),  a  perfect  repro- 
duction of  the  scene  and  all  its  incidents. 
In  reply  to  a  question  by  Mr.  Wilkes,  if 
he  knew  who  the  Tribune  reporter  was. 
General  Hooker  said:  "I  saw  him  first 
upon  the  battle-field,  when  we  were  in  the 
hottest  portion  of  the  fight,  early  in  the 
morning.  My  attention  was  then  attracted 
to  a  civilian,  who  sat  upon  his  horse,  in 
advance  of  my  whole  staff  ;  and  though  he 
was  in  the  hottest  of  the  fire,  and  the  shot 
and  shell  were  striking  and  sputtering 
around  us  like  so  much  hail,  he  sat  gazing 
on  the  strife  as  steady  and  undisturbed  as 
if  he  were  in  a  quiet  theater,  looking  at  a 


806 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


scene  upon  the  stage.  In  all  the  experi- 
ence which  I  have  had  of  war,  I  never  saw 
the  most  experienced  and  veteran  soldier 
exhibit  more  tranquil  fortitude  and  un- 
shaken valor  than  was  exhibited  by  that 
young  man.  I  was  concerned  at  the  need- 
less risk  which  he  invited,  and  told  one  of 
my  aids  to  order  him  in  our  rear.  Pres- 
ently, all  my  aids  had  left  me,  on  one  serv- 
ice and  another ;  whereupon,  turning  to 
give  an  order,  I  found  no  one  but  this 
young  stranger  at  my  side.  I  then  asked 
him  if  he  would  oblige  me  by  bearing  a 
dispatch  to  General  McClellan,  and  by 
acting  as  my  aid,  until  some  of  my  staff 
should  come  up.     He  rode  off  with  alacrity. 


through  a  most  exposed  position,  returned 
with  the  answer,  and  served  me  as 
an  aid  through  the  remainder  of  the 
fight,  till  I  was  carried  from  the  ground." 
"  His  name.  General  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Wilkes. 
"He  was  a  young  man,  rec  "*ly  from 
college,  named  George  W.  jmalley, 
and  I  am  writing  to  him  now."  No 
one  will  regard  General  Hooker's  opin- 
ion of  Mr.  Smalley  as  any  too  high. 
Similar,  too,  in  descriptive  ability  and 
power,  was  the  war  correspondence  of 
such  men  as  Knox,  Richardson,  Cony  in  g- 
ham.  Coffin,  Browne,  Tajdor,  Bickham, 
Crounse,  Colburn,  Davis,  Reid,  and  some 
others. 


XCIY. 

PROCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION,  AS  A  WAR  MEAS- 
URE, BY  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN.— 1863, 


More  than  Three  Millions,  in  Bondage  at  the  South,  Declared  Forever  Free. — Most  Important  Amer- 
ican State  Paper  Since  July  4th,  1776. — Pronounced,  b}'  the  President,  "  the  Great  Event  of  the 
Nineteenth  Century." — The  Wiiole  System  of  Slavery  Finally  Swept  from  the  Republic,  by  Vic- 
tories in  the  Field  and  by  Constitutional  Amendments. — Mr.  Lincoln's  Views  on  Slavery. — Opposed 
to  all  Unconstitutional  Acts. — His  Orders  to  Union  Generals. — Prohibits  the  Arming  of  Negroes. — 
Alarming  Progress  of  Events. — The  Great  Exigency  at  Last — Slavery  i^ersus  the  Union. — Solemn 
and  Urgent  Alternative. — Emancipation  Under  the  War  Power. — Preparation  of  the  Great  Document. 
— Its  Submission  to  the  Cabinet. — Opinions  and  Discussions  — Singular  Reason  for  Delay. — Mr.  Lin- 
coln's Vow  to  God. — Waiting  for  a  Union  Triumph. — Decided  by  the  Battle  of  Antietam. — Final 
Adoption  of  the  Measure. — Mr.  Carpenter's  Admirable  Narrative. — Public  Reception  of  the  Procla- 
mation.— Promulgation  at  the  South. —  Scenes  of  Joy  Among  the  Freedmen. — Enfranchisement 
Added  to  Freedom. 


"  And  upon  this  act,  sincerely  believed  to  be  an  act  of  justice,  warranted  by  the  Constitution,  upon  military  necessity,  I  invoke  the  con- 
mderate  judgment  of  mankind,  and  tlie  gracious  favor  of  Almighty  God."— The  Pkoclamation. 


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EALOUSLY  cherishing  the  humane  personal  wish,  "  that  all  men  every- 
where might  be  free," — as  expressed  by  himself  in  one  of  his  most  mem- 
orable political  letters, — and  inflexibly  objecting  to  the  introduction  of 
slavery  into  the  new  national  territories,  President  Lincoln,  nevertheless, 
on  every  occasion  avowed  his  opposition  to  all  unconstitutional  meas= 
ures  of  interference  with  that  system,  as  it  existed  in  the  States  of  the 
South.     Only  under  the  stupendous   exigency  precipitated   upon  him 
and   upon  the  country,  by  the  war  inaugurated  at  Fort  Sumter,   and 
now  carried  on  with  such  direful  loss  of  blood  and  treasure  for  two  long 
years,  for  the  destruction  of  the  Union,  did  he  avail  himself  of  the  high 
and  solemn   prerogative   of  his    position,    as    the    sworn    protector   and 
defender  of  the  nation,  to   decree,   substantially,  the  utter  extinction  of 
slavery  throughout  all  the  borders  of  the  land. 

It  was  a  war  measure,  done  "  upon  military  necessity,"  and  in  the 
grave  performance  of  which  President  Lincoln  said :  "  I  could  not  feel 
that,  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  I  had  even  tried  to  preserve  the  Constitu- 
tion, if,  to  preserve  slavery,  or  any  minor  matter,  I  should  permit  the 
wreck  of  government,  country,  and  constitution  altogether.  When,  early 
in  the  war.  General  Premont  attempted  military  emancipation,  I  forbade 
it,  because  I  did  not  then  think  it  an  indispensable  necessity.  When,  a 
little  later,  General  Cameron,  then  secretary  of  war,  suggested  the  arm- 
ing of  the  blacks,  I  objected,  because  I  did  not  yet  think  it  an  indispen- 
sable necessity.     When,  still  later.  General  Hunter  attempted  military 


808 


OUE  FIRST  CENTUEY.— 1776-1876. 


emancipation,  I  again  forbade  it,  because 
I  did  not  yet  think  the  indispensable 
necessit}^  had  come.  When,  in  March  and 
May  and  July,  1862,  I  made  earnest  and 
successive  apj)eals  to  the  border  states  to 
favor  compensated  emancipation,  I  believed 
the  indispensable  necessity  for  military 
emancipation  and  arming  the  blacks  would 
come,  unless  averted  by  that  measure. 
They  declined  the  proposition ;  and  I 
was,  in  my  best  judgment,  driven  to  the 
alternative  of  either  surrendering  the 
Union,  and  with  it  the  Constitution,  or  of 
laying  strong  hand  upon  the  colored  ele- 
ment. I  chose  the  latter."  It  will  thus 
be  seen  that,  so  far  from  being  rash  or 
aggressive  in  his  anti-slavery  policy,  he 
favored  no  step  in  that  direction,  until 
driven  to  it  as  a  last  and  remediless  alter- 
native, from  which  there  seemed  no  possi- 
ble escape. 


Singularly  enough,  this  great  measure 
— involving  as  mighty  a  moral,  social,  and 
political  revolution  as  was  ever  accom- 
])li.shed  in  any  age  or  in  any  country — was 
distinctly  expounded  and  foreshadowed  by 
John  Quincy  Adams,  in  a  remarkable 
debate  which  took  place  in  the  lower  house 
of  congress,  in  1842,  and  in  the  course  of 
which  he  said  :  "  I  believe  that,  so  long  as 
the  slave  states  are  able  to  sustain  their 
institutions,  without  going  abroad  or  call- 
ing upon  other  parts  of  the  Union  to  aid 
them  or  act  on  the  subject,  so  long  I  will 
consent  never  to  interfere.      I  have  said 


this ;  and  I  repeat  it ;  but,  if  they  come  to 
the  free  states  and  say  to  them,  '  You  must 
help  us  to  keep  down  our  slaves,  you  must 
•aid  us  in  an  insurrection  and  a  civil  war,' 
then  I  say  that,  with  that  call,  comes  a  full 
and  plenar}'^  power  to  this  house,  and  to  the 
senate,  over  the  whole  subject.  It  is  a 
war  power;  I  say  it  is  a  war  power ;  and 
when  your  country  is  actually  in  war, 
whether  it  be  a  war  of  invasion  or  a  war 
of  insurrection,  congress  has  power  to  carry 
on  the  war,  and  must  carry  it  on  according 
to  the  laws  of  war ;  and,  by  the  laws  of  war, 
an  invaded  country  has  all  its  laws  and 
municipal  institutions  swept  by  the  board, 
and  martial  law  takes  the  place  of  them. 
This  power  in  congress  has,  perhaps,  never 
been  called  into  exercise  under  the  present 
constitution  of  the  United  States.  But, 
when  the  laws  of  war  are  in  force,  what, 
I  ask,  is  one  of  those  laws  ?  It  is  this : 
that  when  a  country  is  invaded,  and  two 
hostile  armies  are  set  in  martial  array,  the 
commanders  of  both  armies  have  power  to 
emancipate  all  the  slaves  in  the  invaded 
territory."  In  proof  of  the  correctness  of 
his  assertion,  Mr.  Adams  cited  the  well- 
known  historical  case  of  the  abolition  of 
slavery  in  Colombia,  fii'st  by  Murillo,  the 
Spanish  general,  and  subsequentlj'^  by 
Bolivar,  the  American  general,  in  each  case 
as  a  military  act,  and  observed  and  main- 
tained to  this  day. 

Though  the  great  American  Proclama- 
tion of  Emancipation  did  not  appear  until 
January  1, 1863,  President  Lincoln's  mind 
had  for  some  months  previously  been  drift- 
ing in  the  direction  of  some  such  act.  As 
he  himself  expressed  it,  everything  was 
going  wrong — the  nation  seemed  to  have 
put  forth  about  its  utmost  efforts,  and  he 
really  didn't  know  what  more  to  do,  unless 
he  did  this.  Accordinglj^,  he  prepared  a  pre- 
liminai-y  proclamation,  nearly  in  the  form 
in  which  it  subsequently  appeared,  called 
the  cabinet  together,  and  read  it  to  them, 
with  the  following  result,  as  rej^orted: 

Mr.  Montgomery  Blair  was  startled. 
"  If  you  issue  that  proclamation,  Mr.  Pres- 
ident," he  exclaimed,  "j^ou  will  lose  every 
one  of  the  fall  elections." 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


809 


Mr.  Seward,  on  the  other  hand,  said,  "I 
approve  of  it,  Mr,  President,  just  as  it 
stands.  I  approve  of  it  in  principle,  and 
I  approve  the  policy  of  issuing  it.  I  only 
ohject  to  the  time.  Send  it  out  now,  on 
the  heels  of  our  late  disasters,  and  it  will 
be  construed  as  the  convulsive  struggle  of 
a  drowning  man.  To  give  it  proper  weight, 
you  should  reserve  it  until  after  some  vic- 
tory." The  president  assented  to  Mr. 
Seward's  view,  and  held  the  document  in 
reserve.  It  appeared  to  the  president, 
that  Mr.  Seward's  opinion  was  of  great 
wisdom  and  force. 

Perhaps  no  account  of  this  most  memo- 
rable event  can  be  said  to  equal,  in  relia- 
bility and  graphic  interest,  that  which  is 
furnished  by  Mr.  F.  B.  Carpenter,  in  his 
reminiscences  of  "  Six  Months  at  the 
White  House,"  while   employed  there  in 


CQ_<xkK>^.<^iAyv  mXJa/vJ 


\yO'\'><^ 


executing  that  unrivaled  masterpiece  of 
American  historical  painting — the  Procla- 
mation of  Emancipation  —  which,  by  uni- 
versal consent,  has  placed  Mr.  Carpenter's 
name  second  to  none  on  the  roll  of  eminent 
modern  artists.  Enjoying,  too,  as  he  did, 
the  most  intimate  personal  relations  with 
the  author  of  that  proclamation,  the  infor- 
mation which  he  thus  obtained  from  the 
president's  own  lips,  as  to  its  origin,  dis- 
cussion, and  final  adoption,  must  forever 
be  the  source  from  which,  on  this  subject, 
all  historians  must  draw. 

As  already  stated,  the  opinion  of   the 


secretary  of  state  in  regard  to  the  effect  of 
issuing  such  a  proclamation  at  such  a  time, 
impressed  Mr.  Lincoln  very  strongly.  "It 
was  an  aspect  of  the  case  that" — said 
President  Lincoln  to  Mr.  Carpenter, — "in 
all  my  thought  upon  the  subject,  I  had 
entirely  overlooked.  The  result  was  that 
I  put  the  draft  of  the  proclamation  aside, 
as  you  do  your  sketch  for  a  picture,  wait- 
ing for  a  victory.  Prom  time  to  time  I 
added  or  changed  a  line,  touching  it  up 
here  and  there,  anxiously  watching  the 
progress  of  events.  Well,  the  next  news 
we  had  was  of  Pope's  disaster  at  Bvill  Run. 
Things  looked  darker  than  ever.  Finally, 
came  the  week  of  the  battle  of  Antietam. 
I  determined  to  wait  no  longer.  The  news 
came,  I  think,  on  Wednesday,  that  the 
advantage  was  on  our  side.  I  was  then 
staying  at  the  Soldiers'  Home  (three 
miles  out  of  Washington).  Here  I  fin- 
ished writing  the  second  draft  of  the  pre- 
liminary proclamation ;  came  up  on  Sat- 
urday ;  called  the  cabinet  together  to  hear 
it,  and  it  was  px;blished  the  following 
Monday."  At  the  final  meeting  of  Sep- 
tember 20th,  another  incident  occurred  in 
connection  with  Secretary  Seward.  The 
president  had  written  the  important  part 
of   the  proclamation  in  these  words  : — 

"  That,  on  the  first  day  of  January,  in 
the  year  of  our  Lord  one  thousand  eight 
hundred  and  sixty-three,  all  persons  held 
as  slaves  within  any  State  or  designated 
part  of  a  State,  the  people  whereof  shall 
then  be  in  rebellion  against  the  United 
States,  shall  be  then,  thenceforward,  and 
forever  Free  ;  and  the  Executive  Govern- 
ment of  the  United  States,  including  the 
military  and  naval  authority  thereof,  Avill 
recognize  the  freedom  of  such  persons,  and 
will  do  no  act  or  acts  to  repress  such  per- 
sons, or  any  of  them,  in  any  efforts  they 
may  make  for  their  actual  freedom." 

"  When  I  finished  reading  this  para- 
graph," resumed  Mr.  Lincoln,  "Mr.  Seward 
stopped  me,  and  said,  '  I  think,  Mr.  Presi- 
dent, that  you  should  insert  after  the  word 
"  recognize,"  in  that  sentence,  the  words 
"and  maintain.'"  I  replied  that  I  had 
already  considered  the  import  of  that  ex- 


810 


OUE  FIRST  CENTUEY.— 1776-1876. 


pression  in  this  connection,  but  I  had  not 
introduced  it,  because  it  was  not  my  way 
to  promise  what  I  was  not  entirely  sirre 
that  I  could  perform,  and  I  was  not  pre- 
pared to  say  that  I  thouglit  we  were 
exactly  able  to  '  maintain  '  this.  But 
Seward  insisted  that  we  ought  to  take  this 
ground,  and  the  words  finally  went  in.  It 
is  a  somewhat  remarkable  fact,"  he  subse- 
quently added,  "  that  there  were  just  one 
hundred  days  between  the  dates  of  the  two 
proclamations  issued  upon  the  22d  of  Sep- 
tember and  the  1st  of  January." 


bany,  IST.  Y.,  in  1864  ;  it  is  in  the  proper 
handwriting  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  excepting  two 
interlineations  in  pencil,  by  Secretary 
Seward,  and  the  formal  heading  and  end- 
ing, which  were  written  by  the  cliief  clerk 
of  the  state  department.  The  final  proc- 
lamation was  signed  on  New  Year's  Day, 
1863.  The  president  remarked  to  Mr. 
Colfax,  the  same  evening,  that  the  signa- 
ture appeared  somewhat  tremulous  and 
iineven.  "Not,"  said  he,  "because  of  any 
uncertainty  or  hesitation  on  my  part ;  but 
it  was  just  after  the  public  reception,  and 


f^y/AZyO?.UZ.(TUn^ 


The  original  draft  of  the  proclamation 
was  written  upon  one  side  of  four  half- 
sheets  or  official  foolscap.  "  He  flung  down 
upon  the  table  one  day  for  mo,"  continues 
Mr.  Carpenter,  "  several  sheets  of  the  same, 
saying,  '  There,  I  believe,  is  some  of  the 
very  paper  which  was  used — if  not,  it  Avas, 
at  any  rate  just  like  it.' "  The  original  draft 
is  dated  September  22,  1862,  and  was  pre- 
sented to  the  Army  Relief  Bazaar,  at  Al- 


three  hours' hand-shaking  is  not  calculated 
to  improve  a  man's  chirography."  Then 
changing  his  tone,  he  added  :  "  The  south 
had  fair  warning,  that  if  they  did  not 
return  to  their  duty,  I  should  strike  at 
this  pillar  of  their  strength.  The  promise 
must  now  be  kept,  and  I  shall  never  recall 
one  word." 

In  answer  to  a  question  from  Mr.  Car- 
penter, as  to  whether  the  policy  of  eman- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


811 


cipation  was  not  opposed  b}'  some  mem- 
bers of  tbe  cabinet,  the  president  replied: 
*' Nothing  more  than  I  have  stated  to  3011. 
Mr.  Bhiir  thouglit  we  should  lose  the  fall 
elections,  and  opposed  it  on  that  ground 
onl}'."  "  I  have  understood,"  said  Mr. 
Carpenter,  "that  Secretary  Smith  was  not 
in  favor  of  your  action.  Mr.  Blair  told  me 
that,  when  the  meeting  closed,  he  and  the 
secretary  of  the  interior  Avent  away  to- 
gether, and  that  the  latter  said  to  him, 
that  if  the  president  carried  out  that  pol- 
io}', he  might  count  on  losing  Indiana, 
sure  !  "  ''He  never  said  anything  of  the 
kind  to  me,"  responded  the  president. 
"  And  Avhat  is  Mr.  Blair's  opinion  now  ?  " 
I  asked.  "  Oh,"  was  the  j^rompt  reply, 
"  he  proved  right  in  regard  to  the  fall  elec- 
tions, but  he  is  satisfied  that  we  have  since 
gained  more  than  we  lost."  "  I  have  been 
told,"  I  added,  "  that  Judge  Bates  doubted 
the  constitutionality  of  the  proclamation." 
"  He  never  expressed  such  an  opinion  in 
my  hearing,"  replied  Mr.  Lincoln  ;  "no 
member  of  the  cabinet  ever  dissented  from 
the  polic}',  in  conversation  with  me." 

It  is  well  known  that  the  statement 
found  very  general  currency  and  credence, 
that,  on  the  proclamation  having  been 
read  to  the  cabinet,  Secretary  Chase  ob- 
jected to  the  appearance  of  a  document  of 
such  momentous  character  without  one 
word  beyond  the  dry  phrases  necessary  to 
convey  its  meaning,  and  finally  proposed 
that  there  should  be  added  to  the  presi- 
dent's draft,  the  sentence — 'And  upon  this 
act,  sincerely  believed  to  be  an  act  of  jus- 
tice, warranted  by  the  constitution,  I 
invoke  the  considerate  judgment  of  man- 
kind, and  the  gracious  favor  of  Almighty 
God.'  The  facts  of  the  case,  however,  as 
learned  by  Mr.  Carpenter  were  these : 
While  the  measure  was  pending,  Mr.  Chase 
submitted  to  the  president  a  draft  of  a 
proclamation  embodying  his  views  of  the 
subject,  and  which  closed  with  the  solemn 
and  appropriate  words  referred  to.  Mr. 
Lincoln  adopted  the  sentence  intact,  as 
Mr.  Chase  wrote  it,  excepting  that  he 
inserted  after  the  word  'constitution,'  the 
words  '  upon    military  necessity  ; '  and  in 


that  form  the  document  went  to  the  world, 
and  to  historv. 

Mr,  Carpenter  also  makes  an  interesting 
statement  touching  the  religious  aspect  of 
Mr.  Lincoln's  mind,  concerning  this  mo- 
mentous matter,  as  follows  :  Mr.  Chase 
told  me  that  at  the  cabinet  meeting,  imme- 
diately after  the  battle  of  Antietam,  and 
just  prior  to  the  September  proclamation, 
the  president  entered  upon  the  business 
before  them,  by  saying  that  "the  time 
for  the  annunciation  of  the  emancipation 
policy  could  be  no  longer  delayed.  Public 
sentiment,"  he  thought,  "would  sustain  it 
— many  of  his  warmest  friends  and  sup- 
porters demanded  it  —  cmd  he  had  prom- 
ised his  God  that  he  would  do  it/" 
The  last  part  of  this  was  uttered  in  a  low 
tone,  and  appeared  to  be  heard  by  no  one 
but  Secretary  Chase,  who  was  sitting  near 
him.  He  asked  the  president  if  he  had 
correctly  understood  him.  Mr.  Lincoln 
replied :  "  I  made  a  solemn  vow  before 
God,  that  if  General  Lee  was  driven  back 
from  Pennsylvania,  I  would  crown  the 
result  by  the  declaration  of  freedom  to  the 
slaves."  In  February,  1865,  a  few  days 
after  the  passage  of  the  Constitutional 
Amendment,  Mr.  Carpenter  went  to  Wash- 
ington, and  was  received  by  Mr.  Lincoln 
with  the  kindness  and  familiarity  which 
had  characterized  their  previous  inter- 
course. I  said  to  him  at  this  time,  (says 
Mr.  Carpenter,)  that  I  was  very  j)roud  to 
have  been  the  artist  to  have  first  conceived 
the  design  of  painting  a  picture  commem- 
orative of  the  Act  of  Emancii:)ation  ;  that 
subsequent  occurrences  had  only  confirmed 
my  own  first  judgment  of  that  act  as  the 
most  sublime  moral  event  in  our  history. 
"  Yes,"  said  he, — and  never  do  I  remem- 
ber to  have  noticed  in  him  more  earnest- 
ness of  expression  or  manner, — "as  affairs 
have  turned,  it  is  the  central  act  of  my 
administration,  and  the  great  event  of  the 
nineteenth  cent^iryT 

The  scope  of  this  most  important  state 
paper  ever  issued  since  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  was,  to  give  liberty  to  more 
than  three  millions  of  people, — a  number 
equal   to    the    whole    population    of   the 


812 


OUR  FIRST   CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVP^NTS. 


813 


United  States  when  tlie  revolutionary 
struggle  with  Great  Britain  commenced, 
and  about  four-tifths  of  the  whole  slave 
population.  The  work  of  emancipation 
throughout  all  the  borders  of  the  land  was 
completed  by  victories  in  the  field,  and  the 
adoption  of  the  Constitutional  Amendment, 
Article  XIII.,  by  which  slavery  was  for- 
ever and  entirely  swept  from  the  Republic. 

The  reception  of  the  proclamation  by 
the  millions  who  were  ranged  on  the  side 
of  their  country,  praying  and  fighting  for 
the  success  of  the  union  cause,  was  warm 
and  enthusiastic,  the  feeling  being  almost 
universally  prevalent  that  the  nation  had 
entered  upon  a  new  and  auspicious  era, 
and  that,  under  such  a  banner,  heaven 
would  crown  our  armies  with  victory,  and 
give  perpetuity  to  our  republic  among  the 
governments  of  the  earth.  Generally,  the 
great  document  was  the  theme  of  earnest 
and  eloquent  discourses  from  the  northern 
pulpits,  the  current  of  the  preachers' 
thoughts  showing  itself  in  the  various  sub- 
jects or  titles  under  which  the  event  was 
discussed,  such  as  '  The  Conflict  between 
Despotism  and  Libert}-,'  'The  duty  of 
uniting  with  our  whole  energies  in  execut- 
ing the  Emancipation  Edict  of  the  presi- 
dent, to  accomplish,  by  the  blessing  of 
God,  its  beneficent  results,  without  possi- 
bility of  failure,'  '  The  Jubilee  of  Free- 
dom,' 'The  Influence  of  Christianity  on 
the  Abolition  of  Slavery,' — these,  though 
but  a  few  among  thousands  elicited  by  the 
proclamation,  indicate  the  hearty  appreci- 
ation of  President  Lincoln's  course  in  issu- 
ing the  decree.  From  countless  pulpits, 
too,  the  momentous  document  was  simply 
read,  without  comment. 

Great  public  meetings  of  congratulation 
and  rejoicing  were  held  in  almost  every 
large  town  and  city  in  the  various  north- 
ern states.  At  the  Cooper  Institute,  New 
York,  a  grand  jubilee  came  off,  the  colored 
people  of  that  city  and  of  the  surrounding 
towns  for  many  miles,  gathering  together 
to  do  honor  to  so  great  a  boon  to  their 
race.  The  large  hall  was  completely 
packed,  long  before  the  hour  at  which  the 
proceedings  were  appointed  to  take  place. 


and  multitudes  had  to  be  turned  away 
from  the  feast  of  eloquence  and  music 
which  was  there  enjoyed  for  several  hours. 

Two  days  after  the  issue  of  the  procla- 
mation, a  large  body  of  people  assembled 
before  the  White  House,  in  Washington, 
with  a  band  of  music,  and  called  for  the 
president.  He  appeared,  and  made  an 
address  of  thanks  to  them  for  their  cour- 
tesy, in  which,  alluding  to  the  proclama- 
tion, he  said,  "  Wliat  I  did,  I  did  after  a 
very  full  deliberation,  and  under  a  heavy 
and  solemn  sense  of  responsibility.  I  can 
only  trust  in  God  I  have  made  no  mis- 
take." From  the  colored  people  of  Balti- 
more, Mr.  Lincoln  was  the  recipient  of  a 
superb  copy  of  the  Bible,  of  the  largest 
size,  and  bound  in  violet-colored  velvet. 
The  corners  were  bands  of  solid  gold,  and 
the  event  carved  upon  a  plate  also  of  gold, 
not  less  than  one-fourth  of  an  inch  thick. 
Upon  the  left-hand  cover,  was  a  design 
representing  the  president  in  a  cotton- 
field,  knocking  the  shackles  off  the  wrists 
of  a  slave,  who  held  one  hand  aloft  as  if  in- 
voking blessings  upon  the  head  of  his  ben- 
efactor,— at  whose  feet  was  a  scroll  upon 
which  was  written  "Emancipation ;  "  upon 
the  other  cover  was  a  similar  plate,  bear- 
ing the  inscription  :  ''  To  Abraham  Lin- 
coln, President  of  the  United  States,  the 
friend  of  Universal  Freedom.  From  the 
loyal  colored  people  of  Baltimore,  as  a 
token  of  respect  and  gratitude.  Baltimore, 
July  4,  1864." 

But  the  greatest  interest  necessarily 
attaches  to  the  reception  which  such  an 
amazing  document  met  with  on  the  part 
of  those  who  were  or  had  recently  been 
slaves.  Although  by  the  terms  of  the 
proclamation,  the  cities  of  Norfolk  and 
Portsmouth,  Va.,  were  excluded  from  its 
operation,  the  slaves  fully  believed  that 
'  Massa  Lincoln '  had  emancipated  them  all ; 
with  this  view,  they  refused  to  work  with- 
out wages,  and,  their  former  masters  ac- 
ceding to  this,  virtual  emancipation  was 
the  result  in  that  region.  On  New  Year's 
day,  the  slaves  of  Norfolk,  Portsmouth, 
and  Gosport,  with  the  African  strangers 
gathered   there,    to  the  number  of   some 


814 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


thousands,  turned  out  en  viasse,  and  by 
processions,  speeches,  hymns  and  songs  of 
jubilation,  and  by  other  demonstrations, 
celebrated  what  was  ever  afterward  to  be 
their  Fourth  of  July.  The  exultation  of 
the  slaves  was  great,  and  many  a  notice- 
able incident  presented  itself.  "Massa," 
said  an  old  woman  to  a  stranger  near  by, 
"  I  have  had  twenty  children.  My  Massa 
and  Missus  sole  'em  all  off;  one  of  my 
gals  was  sole  to  buy  young  Missus  her 
piano.  I  used  to  stop  my  ears  when  I 
heard  her  play  on  dat  ar;  I  thought  I 
heard  my  chile  a  crying  out  dat  it  was 
bought  wid  her  blood.  Dey  was  all  sole 
off, — I'se  not  got  one  left  to  bury  me. 
But  I'se  free  !  and  my  ole  heart  is  glad 
agin.  I'll  go  happy  to  my  grave."  In 
one  of  the  colored  churches  in  Norfolk,  the 
preacher  took  for  his  text,  "  Stand  fast, 
therefore,  in  the  liberty  wherewith  Christ 
has  made  you  free,"  and  with  great  inge- 
nuity, and  without  irreverence,  the 
preacher  showed  how  President  Lincoln, 
in  emancipating  them,  had  stood  in  Christ's 
stead  to  them,  and  how  it  was  now  their 
duty  to  stand  fast,  and  fight  for  the  liberty 
which  he,  under  God,  had  given  them. 
Singular  enough,  there  rose  from  the 
whole  congregation  a  cry,  as  if  with  one 
voice,  "Amen !  glory  be  to  God !  we'll 
fight  till  de  cows'  tails  drop  off!  " 

In  the  Department  of  the  South,  em- 
bracing Port  Royal,  S.  C,  and  other 
islands,  it  was  very  difficult  to  convince 
the  colored  people  that  they  were  free,  and 
that  the  government,  or  Yankees,  could  be 
in  earnest.  Christmas  was  to  most  of 
them  a  sad  day.  General  Saxton,  there- 
fore, who  spared  no  effort  to  disabuse 
their  minds  and  inspire  them  with  confi- 
dence, issued  his  proclamation  inviting  the 
people  to  assemble  at  the  head-quarters  of 
the  First  South  Carolina  Volunteers,  on 
the  first  of  January.  Missionaries,  min- 
isters, superintendents  and  teachers,  offi- 
cers and  privates,  joined  heartily  in  the 
gathering.  The  word  went  out  far  and 
near,  but  the  people  were  suspicious. 
Mischievous  ones  had  told  them  it  was  a 
trap   to  force  them  into  the  arm}' ;  others 


that  they  were  to  be  collected  on  steam- 
boats that  would  run  them  to  Cuba ;  oth- 
ers that  they  were  to  be  got  away  from 
their  homes  and  sent  into  exile.  But,  at 
an  early  hour  of  the  sublimely  beautiful 
da}',  the  people  began  to  arrive  at  the 
camping-ground,  and,  despite  their  fears, 
thousands  were  there.  The  proceedings 
opened  with  prayer  and  music,  after  which, 
Judge  Brisbane,  of  Wisconsin,  but  a  son 
of  South  Carolina  who,  twenty-five  years 
previously,  set  all  his  slaves  free,  read  the 
emancipation  act  amidst  the  jubilant 
shouts  of  the  vast  multitude ;  and  when, 
succeeding  this,  the  proclamation  of  Gen- 
eral Saxton  was  read,  declaring  that  the 
great  act  should  be  enforced,  twelve  deaf- 
ening cheers  burst  forth  from  the  thou- 
sands of  grateful  and  joyous  hearts  to 
whom  the  good  tidings  of  libert}'  and  pro- 
tection had  thus  come.  An  original  ode 
was  then  sung  to  the  tune  of  '  Scots  Avha' 
ha'  wi'  Wallace  bled,"  and  then  came  the 
crowning  feature  of  the  day,  the  presenta- 
tion by  the  Rev.  Mr.  French  of  a  splendid 
silk  flag,  with  the  embroidered  inscription: 

"  To  the  First  South  Carolina  Regiment. 
The  year  of  jubilee  has  come." 

It  was  a  very  elegant  flag,  a  gift  from 
Doctor  Cheever's  church  in  the  city  of 
New  York.  As  it  passed  from  the  hands 
of  Mr.  French,  the  negroes  struck  up  the 
national  air,  "  My  country,  'tis  of  thee," 
with  fine  effect.  Colonel  Higginson,  who 
had  received  the  flag,  stood  waiting  his 
time  to  reply,  with  the  golden  tassels  in 
his  hands.  After  an  eloquent  speech  by 
the  colonel,  he  called  the  sergeant  of  Com- 
pany A,  "Prince  Rivers,"  and  a  corporal 
of  another  company,  named  Sutton,  both 
black  men,  and,  handing  over  the  flag 
which  had  been  presented,  called  upon 
both  to  speak,  which  they  did  with  great 
acceptance.  Other  exercises  of  rejoicing 
took  place,  and  then  attention  was  paid  to 
the  physical  wants  of  the  happy  throng. 
For  this  purpose,  ten  beeves  had  been 
slaughtered  and  were  roasting  in  their 
pits ;  and  these,  with  several  hundred  gal- 
lons of  molasses  and  water, — a  favorite 
beverage  of  the  negroes, — and  a  full  supply 


GREAT  AND  MEMOEABLE  EVENTS. 


815 


of  hard  bread,  awaited  the  hungry  expect- 
ants. Thus  ended  the  grand  celebration 
of  the  emancipation  of  the  slaves  of  South 
Carolina. 

The  observance  of  the  event  in  other 
parts  of  the  south,  wherever  the  authority 
of  the  union  forces  was  present  to  permit 
it,  was  so  similar  in  its  character  and 
enthusiasm  to  what  has  already  been  nar- 
rated, that  it  is  unnecessary  here  to  extend 
the  descriptions.  By  the  army  and  its 
officers,  with  here  and  there  an  exception, 
the  proclamation  was  regarded  as  an  act  to 
which  things  had  long  been  tending,  and 
which,  under  the  circumstances  of  peril  in 
which  the  union  had  so  long  been  placed, 
was  inevitable.  Of  course,  no  such  proc- 
lamation, in  time  of  war,  could  have  any 
weight  in  the  section  of  country  at  which 
it  was  aimed,  excepting  as  the  union  mili- 
tary successes  made  it  effective.  Those 
successes  in  due  time  reached  every  por- 
tion of  the  south,  and  the  fetters  of  every 
bondman  on  American  soil  were  thus 
broken.  Congress  subsequently  passed  an 
amendment  to  the  constitution,  forever 
prohibiting  slavery  in  any  portion  of  the 
republic,  and  this  amendment,  on  being 
ratified  by  the  requisite  number  of  states, 
became  a  part  of  the  organic  law  of  the 
land. 

The  original  draft  of  the  emancipation 
proclamation,  in  the  president's  handwrit- 
ing, was  presented  by  Mr.  Lincoln  to  the 
great  Northwestern  Sanitary  Fair,  held  at 
Chicago,  in  the  autumn  of  18G3.  The  fol- 
lowing letter  accompanied  the  gift: 

Executive  Mansion, 
Washington,  October  26,  1863. 

To  the  Ladies  having  in  charge  the 
Northwestern  Fair  for  the  Sanitary  Com- 
mission, Chicago,  Illinois: — 

According  to  the  request  made  in  your 
behalf,  the  original  draft  of  the  emancipa- 
tion proclamation  is  herewith  enclosed. 
The  formal  words  at  the  top,  and  the  con- 
clusion, except  the  signature,  you  perceive, 
are  not  in  my  handwriting.  They  were 
written  at  the  State  Department,  by  whom 
I  know  not.     The  printed  part  was   cut 


from  a  cop}''  of  the  preliminary  proclama- 
tion and  pasted  on,  merely  to  save  writing. 
I  had  some  desire  to  retain  the  paper; 
but  if  it  shall  contribute  to  the  relief  or 
comfort  of  the  soldier,  that  will  be  better. 

Your  obedient  servant, 

A.  Lincoln. 

This  chief  treasure  of  that  great  fair  was 
purchased  for  three  thousand  dollars,  by 
the  Hon.  Thomas  B.  Bryan,  for  the  Chi- 
cago Soldiers'  Home,  of  which  he  was 
president.  Lithographic  copies  of  the  doc- 
ument were  also  sold  for  the  benefit  of  the 
same  institution,  and  netted  it  thousands 
of  dollars. 

One  of  the  most  important  results  of  this 
great  measure,  whether  considered  from  a 
moral,  political,  or  social  point  of  view, 
was  the  Fifteenth  Amendment  to  the  Con- 
stitution of  the  United  States,  by  which 
all  citizens  were  made  equal  before  the 
law. 

It  was  on  the  twenty-seventh  of  Febru- 
ary, 1869,  that  congress  passed  a  resolu- 
tion in  the  following  words : 

A  resolution  proposing  an  amendment 
to  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States. 

Eesolved,  By  the  Senate  and  House  of 
Representatives  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  in  Congress  assembled,  two- 
thirds  of  both  Houses  concurring,  that  the 
following  article  be  proposed  to  the  legis- 
latures of  the  several  States  as  an  amend- 
ment to  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States,  which,  when  ratified  by  three- 
fourths  of  the  said  legislatures,  shall  be 
valid  as  a  part  of  the  Constitution,  namely : 
— Article  15,  Section  1.  The  right  of 
citizens  of  the  United  States  to  vote  shall 
not  be  denied  or  abridged  by  the  United 
States,  or  by  any  State,  on  account  of  race, 
color,  or  previous  condition  of  servitude. 
Section  2.  Congress  shall  have  power  to 
enforce  this  article  by  approjiriate  legisla- 
tion. 

In  about  one  year's  time  from  the  pas- 
sage of  this  resolution,  proclamation  was 
made  by  the  secretary  of  state,  Hon.  Ham- 
ilton Fish,  that  the  proposed  amendment 
had  been  ratified  by  the  legislatures  of  the 


816 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


states  of  North  Carolina,  West  Virginia, 
Massachusetts,  Wisconsin,  Maine,  Louisi- 
ana, Michigan,  South  Carolina,  Pennsyl- 
vania, Arkansas,  Connecticut,  Florida, 
Illinois,  Indiana,  New  York,  New  Hamp- 
shire, Nevada,  Vermont,  Virginia,  Ala- 
bama, Missouri,  Mississippi,  Ohio,  Iowa, 
Kansas,  Minnesota,  Rhode  Island,  Ne- 
braska, and  Texas, — twenty-nine  in  all, 
and  constituting  three-fourths  of  the  whole 
number  of  states,  and  thus  becoming  valid, 
to  all  intents  and  purposes,  as  a  part  of 
the  constitution  of  the  United  States. 

Though  not  obligatory,  as  an  executive 
duty.  President  Grant  communicated  the 
fact  of  the  ratification  to  congress,  in  a 
special  message,  on  the  thirtieth  of  March, 
1870.  "The  measure" — said  the  presi- 
dent— "  which  makes  at  once  four  millions 
of  the  people  voters  who  were  heretofore 
declared  by  the  highest  tribunal  in  the 
land  not  citizens  of  the  United  States,  nor 
eligible  to  become  so,  with  the  assertion 
that  at  the  time  of  the  Declaration  of  In- 


dependence the  opinion  was  fixed  and  uni- 
versal in  the  civilized  portion  of  the  white 
race,  and  regarded  as  an  axiom  in  morals 
as  well  as  in  politics,  that  black  men  had 
no  rights  which  white  men  were  bound  to 
respect,  is,  indeed,  a  measure  of  grander 
importance  than  any  other  one  act  of  the 
kind  from  the  foundation  of  our  free  gov- 
ernment to  the  present  time.  Institutions 
like  ours,  in  which  all  power  is  derived 
directly  from  the  people,  must  depend 
mainly  upon  their  intelligence,  patriotism, 
and  industry.  I  call  the  attention,  there- 
fore, of  the  newly  enfranchised  race  to  the 
importance  of  their  striving,  in  every  hon- 
orable manner,  to  make  themselves  worthy 
of  their  new  privilege.  To  a  race  more 
favored  heretofore  by  our  laws,  I  would 
sa}^,  withhold  no  legal  privilege  of  advance- 
ment to  the  new  citizens."  So  great  an 
gvent  was  not  suffered  to  pass  without  pub- 
lic demonstrations  of  joy  commensurate 
with  its  grand,  beneficent,  and  elevating 
scope,  in  almost  all  parts  of  the  country. 


XCY. 

CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  YICKSBURG,  "  THE  GIBRALTAR  OF 
THE  MISSISSIPPI,"  BY  THE  UNION  FORCES.— 1863. 


The  Genius,  Valor,  and  Resources  of  Both  Armies  Tasked  to  their  Utmost. — Final  Capitulation  of  the 
City  by  General  Pemberton,  After  a  Prolonged  and  Brilliant  Siege. — Heaviest  Blow  Yet  Dealt  the 
Secession  Cause. — General  MoPiierson  Receives  the  Formal  Surrender. — Thirty-seven  Thousand 
Prisoners,  Fifteen  Generals,  Arms  and  Munitions  for  Sixty  Thousand  Men,  the  Trophies. — Geograph- 
ical Importance  of  Vicksburg — Its  Commanding  Fortifications. — Farragut's  Naval  Siege  Powerless. 
— Sherman's  Attack  Repulsed. — Grant  Assumes  Active  Command — Vigorous  Operations  Undertaken. 
— His  Series  of  Victorious  Battles. — Futile  Attempt  to  Storm  Vicksburg. — Hours  of  Terrific  Can- 
nonading.— A  Systematic  Siege  Begun. — Thorough  Investment  at  all  Points. — Federal  Sapping  and 
Mining. — They  Mine  and  Blow  up  Fort  Hill — Awful  Spectacle  of  Blood  and  Ruin. — Deadly  Strug- 
gle for  a  Foothold — Success  of  tlie  Forty-fifth  Illinois. — Their  Colors  Surmount  the  Work. — Pember- 
ton Sends  a  Flag  of  Truce. — His  Interview  with  Grant. — Grant's  Terms  :  "  Unconditional  Surrender." 
— The  Victors  Enter  the  City,  July  4th. — Curious  Reminiscences. 


"  No  thought  of  flight, 
None  of  retreat,  no  unbecoming  deed 
That  argued  tear;  each  one  himself  relitl 
As  only  in  his  arm  the  moment  lay 
Of  Victory  I " 


OPERATIONS  AT  VICK8BUBG. 

52 


OUAVES,  infantry,  cavalry,   artillery — offi- 
cers and  privates — picket,  scout,  and  spy, — 
brave  legions,  led  on  by  brave  generals  of 
rj^      heroic  purpose  to  noblest  deeds, — won  glo- 
rious honor  to  American  arms,  and  to  the 
still  more  sacred  cause  of  the  American   Union, 
by  the    capture   of   the  city   of   Vicksburg,    the 
stronghold  of  Mississippi,   with  all  its   defenses 
and  munitions,  and  its  valorous  army  ; — an  event 
which,  occurring  on  the  fourtli  of  July,  filled  the 
hearts  of  all  loyal  Americans  with  peculiar  joy, 
while  it  was  confessedly  the  heaviest  and  most 
disastrous    military  blow  which  the   confederate 
cause  had  yet  received  during  the  two  long  years 
of  most  eventful  struggle. 

Situated  on  the  Mississippi  river,  on  a  com- 
manding elevation,  four  hundred  miles  above  New 
Orleans,  and  fifty  miles  west  of  Jackson,  it  was  the  most 
important  point  on  the  river  between  Natchez  and  Memphis, 
and,  at  an  early  day,  was  strongly  fortified  by  the  confeder- 
ate authorities  of  the  state,  forts  being  erected  and  abundance 
of  artillery  supplied.     More    than  a  year  before   the  final 


81« 


OUK  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


capitulation  of  the  place  under  General 
Pemberton  to  General  Grant,  the  union 
forces  laid  siege  to  the  city,  and  Farragut 
demanded  the  surrender  of  the  forts ;  the 
silencing  of  the  confederate  batteries  at 
Grand  Gulf,  was  among  the  earlier  opera- 
tions of  the  union  gun-boats,  which  also 
shelled  the  city  for  several  weeks.  Farra- 
gut raised  the  naval  siege,  July  24,  1862. 
General  Grant  had  taken  command  of  the 
union  army  in  that  quarter  in  June,  of  the 
same  year,  and,  in  December,  organized 
his  army  into  four  grand  corj)s, — the  Thir- 
teenth, Fifteenth,  Sixteenth,  and  Seven- 
teenth, commanded  respectively  by  Gen- 
erals McCIernand,  Sherman,  Hurlbut,  and 
McPherson.  At  the  close  of  this  month, 
Sherman  started  from  Memphis,  passed 
down  the  Mississippi  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Yazoo,  some  ten  miles  above  Vicksburg, 
and  ascending  that  river,  advanced  upon 
Vicksburg  on  the  north  side,  but,  after 
three  days  of  severe  fighting,  was  com- 
pelled to  retire  with  heavy  loss.  For  a 
time,  the  attack  on  the  city  was  abandoned 
as  futile. 

Early  in  February,  1863,  General  Grant 
arrived  and  assumed  active  j^ersonal  com- 
mand of  military  operations,  which  he  con- 
ducted with  great  tact  and  vigor,  succes- 
sively defeating  his  opponents  in  engage- 
ments at  Port  Gibson,  Fourteen  Mile 
Creek,  Raymond,  Jackson,  Champion's 
Hill,  and  Big  Black  Bridge.  The  naval 
forces  co-operating  in  these  movements 
were  under  the  efficient  direction  of  Ad- 
mirals Farragut  and  Porter. 

After  thoroughly  investing  the  city  on 
all  sides,  the  union  troops  forming  a  semi- 
circle, with  both  flanks  resting  on  the 
river,  an  unsuccessful  assault  was  made, 
May  23d,  by  the  combined  land  and  naval 
forces.  The  attack  was  a  terrible  one. 
According  to  the  correspondent  of  the  Chi- 
cago Tribune,  it  was  characterized  by  the 
following  incidents:  During  the  night, 
the  gun-boats  and  mortars  lying  in  front  of 
the  city  kept  up  a  continual  fire,  and 
dropped  their  fiery  messengers  right  and 
left  without  distinction.  During  this  bom- 
bardment   several    buildings   were   set  on 


fire   by  the  exploding  shells,  and   lighted 
up  the  darkness,  revealing  strange  shapes 
and   wonderful   outlines,    standing  out  in 
relief  against  the  dark  sky,  which  added 
wonderful  interest  to  the  bombardment  as 
witnessed  by  the  distant  observer.     It  is 
impossible  to  estimate   the   damage   occa- 
sioned by   thus  dropping  into  Vicksburg 
those  heavy  eleven  and  thirteen  inch  shells. 
Imagination  falls  far  short  of  its  reality. 
Before   the   union  forces   approached  the 
city,   General  Pemberton  ordered  all  the 
women    and    children    for   miles    around 
Vicksburg  to  go  within  the  intrenchments, 
assuring  them  that  in  that  way  they  would 
escape  all  danger.     The  consequence  was, 
that  there  were  a  large   number  of  non- 
combatants  in  the  city,  exposed  to  all  the 
dangers   of  siege  and  bombardment.     At 
eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  cannon- 
ading began,  and  continued,  with  scarcely 
a  moment's  intermission,  along  the  entire 
line,  i;ntil  ten  o'clock.     From  every  hill- 
top  in   front   of   the    confederate    works, 
cannon  were  belching  forth,  and  the  fiery 
tempest  raged  fearfully.     Guns  were  dis- 
mounted,   embrasures    torn    up,    parapets 
destroyed,  and  caissons  exploded.     It  was 
a   fearful    demonstration.      For    two  long 
hours  did  this  cannonade    continue,  when 
a    general    charge    was    made.      Winding 
through  the  valleys,  clambering  over  the 
hills  everywhere,   subjected  to  a  murder- 
ous enfilading  and  cross-fire,  the  advance 
pressed  up  close  to  the  confederate  works 
— to  find  that  a  deep  ditch,  protected  by 
sharp   stakes    along   the    outer   edge,    lay 
between    them     and    the    intrenchments. 
They  planted  their  flag  directly  before  the 
fort,   and   crouched  down  behind  the  em- 
bankment,  out  of  range  of  the  confederate 
fire,  as  calmly  as  possible,  to  await  devel- 
opments.    The    soldiers   within  the  forts 
could  not  rise  above  the  parapet  to  fire  at 
them,  for  if  they  did,   a  hundred  bullets 
went  whizzing  through  the  air,  and  the 
adventurers  died.     The  confederates,  how- 
ever, adopted  another  plan  ;   taking  a  shell, 
they  cut  the  fuse  close  off,  lighted  it,  and 
rolled  it  over  the  outer  slope  of  the  em- 
bankment.    Subsequently,  with  picks  and 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


819 


shovels,  a  way  was  dug  into  one  fort,  and 
through  the  breach  the  boys  walked 
bravely  in.  The  lirst  fort  on  the  left  of 
the  railroad  was  stormed  by  a  portion  of 
General  Carr's  division,  and  gallantly 
taken ;  the  colonel  that  led  the  charge  was 
wounded.  On  the  center  the  fire  was  per- 
sistent and  terrible.  Many  brave  officers 
were  killed  and  many  more  wounded. 
Colonel  Dollins,  of  the  Eighty-first  Illinois, 
fell  dead  while  leading  his  men  to  the 
charge.  Later  in  the  afternoon.  General 
Ransom's  brigade  charged  the  works  oppo- 
site his  position,  with  heavy  loss.  Steele 
and  Tuttle,  on  the  right,  were  also  vigor- 
ously engaged,  the  loss  sustained  by  the 
former  being  considerable. 


GENERAL  J.  C.   PEMBERTON. 

The  result  of  this  assault  rendered  it 
quite  certain  that  Vicksburg  could  not  be 
taken  by  storm,  and  every  possible  appli- 
ance was  immediately  put  into  requisition 
by  General  Grant  to  accomplish  his  pur- 
pose by  systematic  siege,  and  sappers  and 
miners  performed  an  important  part  in 
this  great  undertaking.  The  details  of 
this  kind  of  work  are  well  understood  by 
all,  and  need  not  be  repeated  here.  Suf- 
fice it  to  say,  that  one  of  the  principal  con- 
federate forts  was  soon  reached  by  this 
subterranean  process, — the  miners  keeping 
incessantly  busy,  day  and  night,  until  they 
arrived  far  under  the  confederate  fortifica- 
tions, and  within  such  near  proximity  to 
the  enemy,  that  the  picks  and  shovels  of 
the  latter,  similarly  engaged  in  the  bowels 
of  the  earth,  could  frequently  be  heard, — 


necessitating,  above  all  things,  incessant 
wariness  and  the  utmost  possible  expedi- 
tion. How  the  matter  was  carried  through, 
the  following  account,  made  up  from  the 
admirable  dispatches  of  Messrs.  Keim  and 
Fitzpatrick,  of  the  New  York  Herald,  will 
abundantly  show : 

On  the  morning  of  June  25th,  the  work 
of  mining  (says  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,)  was  com- 
pleted, an  immense  quantity  of  gunpowder 
was  stored  in  the  cavity  prepared  to  re- 
ceive it,  and  the  fuse  train  was  laid.  At 
noon,  the  different  regiments  of  the  Sev- 
enteenth corps,  selected  to  make  the  assault 
on  the  breach  when  it  should  have  been 
effected,  were  marshaled  in  long  lines 
upon  the  near  slopes  of  the  hills  immedi- 
ately confronting  the  doomed  fortifications, 
where,  disposed  for  the  attack,  impatiently 
awaited  the  event.  The  confederates 
seemed  to  have  discovered  that  some  move- 
ment was  on  foot,  for,  from  the  moment 
the  federal  troops  came  into  position,  until 
the  explosion  took  place,  their  sharpshoot- 
ers kejDt  up  an  incessant  fire  from  the 
whole  line  of  their  works. 

At  length  all  was  in  readiness  ;  the  fuse 
train  was  fired,  and  it  went  fizzing  and 
popping  through  the  zigzag  line  of 
trenches,  until  for  a  moment  it  vanished. 
Its  disappearance  was  quickly  succeeded 
by  the  explosion,  and  the  mine  under  Fort 
Hill  was  sprung.  So  terrible  a  sjyectacle 
is  seldom  witnessed.  Dust,  dirt,  smoke, 
gabions,  stockades,  timber,  gun-carriages, 
logs — in  fact,  everything  connected  with 
the  fort — rose  hundreds  of  feet  into  the 
air,  as  if  vomited  forth  from  a  volcano.  It 
is  described  by  all  who  saw  it  as  an  awful 
scene. 

No  sooner  had  the  explosion  taken  place 
(writes  Mr.  Keim),  than  the  two  detach- 
ments acting  as  the  forlorn  hope  ran  into 
the  fort  and  sap.  A  brisk  musketry  fire 
at  once  commenced  between  the  two  par- 
ties, with  about  equal  effect  on  either  side. 
No  sooner  had  these  detachments  become 
Avell  engaged  than  the  rest  of  Leggett's 
brigade  joined  them  and  entered  into  the 
struggle.  The  regiments  relieving  each 
other  at  intervals,  the  contest  now  grew 


820 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


severe,  both  sides,  determined  upon  holding 
their  own,  were  doing  their  best.  Volley 
after  volley  was  fired,  though  with  less  car' 
nage  than  would  be  supposed.  The  Forty 
fifth  Illinois  now  charged  immediately 
up  to  the  crest  of  the  parapet,  and  here 
suffered  its  heaviest,  losing  many  officers 
in  the  assault.  After  a  severe  contest  of 
half  an  hour,  with  varying  results,  the 
flag  of  the  Forty-fifth  aji2>eared  vpon  the 
sumviit  of  the  icork  !  The  position  was 
gained.  Cheer  after  cheer  broke  through 
the  confusion  and  uproar  of  the  contest, 
assuring  the  troops  everywhere  along  the 
line  that  the  Forty-fifth  was  still  itself. 
The  colonel  was  now  left  alone  in  command 
of  the  regiment,  and  he  was  himself  badly 
bruised  by  a  flying  splinter.  The  regi- 
ment had  also  suffered  severely  in  the  line, 
and  the  troops  were  worn  out  by  excessive 
heat  and  hard  fighting.  Relief  was  nec- 
essary. Accordingly,  another  Illinois  reg- 
iment was  ordered  up,  and  the  Forty-fifth 
drawn  off;  this  was  at  six  o'clock  P.  M. 
After  this,  the  action  was  kept  up  briskly 
but  steadily  for  several  hours,  until  dusk, 
when  the  firing  lulled  and  the  men  took  a 
respite.  While  the  Forty-fifth  was  so 
p  hotly  engaged  in  the  fort,  the  Twenty-third 
Indiana  followed  its  first  detachment  into 
the  sap,  from  which  place  they  were  to 
[l  53  hold  the  confederates  at  bay  during  the 
contest  for  the  fort.  The  confederates 
fought  desperately,  as  well  at  this  point  as 
the  other ;  but  the  character  of  the  engage- 
ment was  different,  the  troops  firing  at 
each  other  over  breastworks  of  earth. 
This  regiment  did  excellent  service. 

The  explosion  of  the  mine  was  the  signal 
for  the  opening  of  the  artillery  of  the 
entire  line.  The  left  division  of  General 
McPherson's  Seventeenth  or  center  corps 
opened  first,  and  discharges  were  repeated 
along  the  left,  through  General  Ord's 
Thirteenth  corps  and  Herron's  extreme 
left  division,  until  the  sound  struck  the 
ear  like  the  mutterings  of  distant  thunder. 
General  Sherman,  on  the  right,  also  opened 
his  artillery  about  the  same  time  and  occu- 
pied the  enemy's  attention  along  his  front. 
Every  shell  struck  the  parapet,  and,  bound- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


821 


iiig  over,  exploded  in  the  midst  of  the 
opposing  forces  bej^ond.  The  scene  at  this 
time  was  one  of  the  utmost  sublimity. 
The  roar  of  artillery,  rattle  of  small 
arms,  the  cheers  of  the  men,  flashes  of 
light,  wreaths  of  pale  blue  smoke  over  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  field,  the  bursting  of 
shells,  the  fierce  whistle  of  solid  shot,  the 
deep  boom  of  the  mortars,  the  broadsides 
of  the  ships  of  war,  and,  added  to  all  this, 
the  vigorous  replies  of  the  confederates, 
set  up  a  din  which  beggared  all  powers  of 
description. 

After  the  possession  of  the  confederate 
fort  was  no  longer  in  doubt,  the  pioneer 
federal  corps  mounted  the  work  with  their 
shovels  and  set  to  throwing  up  earth  vig- 
orously, in  order  to  secure  space  for  artil- 
lery. A  most  fortunate  peculiarity — for 
the  union  army — in  the  explosion,  was  the 
manner  in  which  the  earth  was  thrown 
out.  The  appearance  of  the  place  was 
that  of  a  funnel,  with  heav}^  sides  running 
up  to  the  very  crest  of  the  parapet,  afford- 
ing admirable  protection  not  only  for  the 
union  troops  and  pioneers,  but  turned  out 
a  ready  made  fortification  in  the  rough, 
which,  with  a  slight  application  of  the 
shovel  and  pick,  was  ready  to  receive  the 
guns  to  be  used  at  this  point. 

The  capture  of  Vicksburg  was  now  a 
foregone  conclusion,  admitted  even  by  its 
devoted  defenders  themselves,  as  appeared 
from  the  contents  of  a  confederate  mail- 
bag,  captured  just  at  this  time.  At  about 
eight  o'clock,  therefore,  on  the  morning  of 
July  3d,  flags  of  truce  appeared  before 
General  Smith's  front,  when  General 
Bowen  and  Colonel  Montgomery  were  led 
blindfolded  into  the  union  lines.  They 
bore  a  sealed  communication  from  General 
Pemberton  to  General  Grant,  in  which  the 
former  proposed  an  armistice,  with  a  view 
to  arranging  terms  for  the  capitulation  of 
Vicksburg  —  three  commissioners  to  be 
appointed  from  each  army,  for  this  pur- 
pose. General  Pemberton  added  that  he 
made  this  proposition  to  save  the  further 
effusion  of  blood,  and  feeling  himself  fully 
able  to  maintain  his  position  for  a  yet 
indefinite  period. 


To  this  document.  General  Grant  made 
immediate  reply,  assuring  General  Pem- 
berton that  the  effusion  of  blood  could  at 
any  time  be  avoided  by  an  xinconditional 
surrender  of  the  city  and  garrison — that 
men  who  had  shown  so  much  endurance 
and  courage  as  those  in  Vicksburg  would 
be  treated  with  all  the  respect  due  them  as 
prisoners  of  war  by  their  adversary, — and 
concluded  by  informing  General  Pember- 
ton that  he  did  not  favor  the  appointment 
of  commissioners  to  arrange  for  a  capitula- 
tion, as  he  had  no  other  terms  than  those 
just  indicated. 

General  Pemberton  then  solicited  a  per- 
sonal interview,  which  was  acceded  to  by 
General  Grant,  and  appointed  for  three 
o'clock  p.  M.,  General  Pemberton's  mes- 
sengers returning  with  the  answer  at 
eleven  A.  M.  At  three  o'clock  precisely, 
one  gun,  the  prearranged  signal,  was 
fired,  and  immediately  replied  to  by  the 
confederates.  General  Pemberton  then 
made  his  appearance  on  the  works  in 
McPherson's  front,  under  a  white  flag, 
considerably  on  the  left  of  Fort  Hill. 
General  Grant  rode  through  the  union 
trenches  until  he  came  to  an  outlet,  lead- 
ing to  a  small  green  space,  which  had  not 
been  trod  by  either  army.  Here  the  party 
halted,  until  General  Pemberton  appeared, 
accompanied  by  General  Bowen  and 
Colonel  Montgomery.  Thousands  of  sol- 
diers looked  upon  this  strange  scene.  Two 
men,  who  had  been  lieutenants  in  the 
same  regiment  in  Mexico,  now  met  as  foes, 
with  all  the  world,  in  a  certain  sense, 
looking  upon  them.  When  they  had  ap- 
proached within  a  few  feet.  Colonel  Mont- 
gomery said — 

"General  Grant,  General  Pemberton." 

They  shook  hands  and  greeted  each, 
other  familiarly,  Pemberton  remarking, 
playfully,  "  I  was  at  Monterey  and  Buena 
Vista.  We  had  terms  and  conditions 
there." 

It  was  beneath  the  outspreading 
branches  of  a  gigantic  oak  that  the  confer- 
ence of  the  generals  took  place.  Here 
presented  the  only  space  which  had  not 
been   used  for  some  purpose  or  other  by 


822 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  contending  hosts.  The  gi-ound  was 
covered  with  a  fresh,  luxuriant  verdure ; 
here  and  there  a  shrub  or  clump  of  bushes 
could  be  seen  standing  out  from  the  green 
growth  on  the  surface,  while  several  oaks 
filled  up  the  scene,  and  gave  it  character. 
Some  of  the  trees  in  their  tops  exhibited 
the  effects  of  flying  projectiles,  by  the  loss 
of  limbs  or  torn  foliage,  and  in  their 
trunks  the  indentations  of  smaller  missiles 
plainly  marked  the  occurrences  to  which 
they  had  been  silent  witnesses.  The  party 
made  up  to  take  part  in  the  conference 
was  composed  as  follows :  Major-Generals 
Grant  and  McPherson,  and  Brigadier-Gen- 
eral Smith,  of  the  union  army;  and  Lieu- 
tenant-General  Pemberton,  Major-General 
Bowen,  and  Colonel  IVIontgomery,  of  the 
confederate  army.  It  was  not  long  before 
the  momentous  business  which  brought 
the  party  together  was  begun  by  General 
Pemberton  saying — 


GENERAL  J.   B.    MCPHERSON. 

"  General  Grant,  I  meet  you  in  order  to 
arrange  terms  for  the  capitulation  of  the 
city  of  Vicksburg  and  its  garrison.  What 
terms  do  you  propose  ?  " 

"  Unconditional  surrender^"  was  the 
reply. 

"Unconditional  surrender?"  repeated 
General  Pemberton;  "Never,  so  long  as  I 
have  a  man  left  nie  !     I  will  fight  rather." 

"  Then,  sir,"  rejoined  General  Grant, 
"  you  can  continue  the  defense.  My  army 
has  never  been  in  a  better  condition  for 
the  prosecution  of  the  siege." 

During  the  passing  of  these  few  prelim- 
inaries, General  Grant  manifested  all  his 


natural  self-possession,  and  evinced  not 
the  least  sign  of  embarrassment ;  and  after 
a  short  conversation  standing,  the  two 
generals,  as  by  a  kind  of  mutual  tendency, 
wandered  off  from  the  rest  of  the  party 
and  seated  themselves  on  the  grass,  in  a 
cluster  of  bushes,  where  alone  they  talked 
over  the  important  events  then  pending. 
Here  they  sat  more  than  an  hour.  Pem- 
berton played  with  the  grass  and  pulled 
leaves.  Grant,  as  usual,  talked  coolly, 
occasionally  giving  a  few  puffs  at  his  favor- 
ite companion — his  black  cigar.  Gener- 
als McPherson,  Smith,  and  Bowen,  and 
Colonel  Montgomery,  imitating  the  exam- 
ple of  the  commanding  generals,  seated 
themselves  at  some  distance  off,  while  the 
respective  staffs  of  the  generals  formed 
another  and  larger  group  in  the  rear. 
After  a  lengthy  conversation  the  generals 
separated.  General  Pemberton  did  not 
come  to  any  conclusion  on  the  matter,  but 
stated  his  intention  to  submit  the  matter 
to  a  council  of  general  officers  of  his  com- 
mand ;  and,  in  the  event  of  their  assent, 
the  surrender  of  the  city  should  be  made 
in  the  morning.  Until  morning  was  given 
him  to  consider  and  determine  upon  the 
matter,  and  send  in  his  final  reply.  The 
generals  then  rode  to  their  respective 
quarters.  It  was,  however,  agreed  that 
General  Grant  should  confer  with  his  offi- 
cers, and  transmit,  in  writing,  to  General 
Pemberton,  the  terms  he  would  accept. 
Promptly  the  note  was  sent  by  the  hands 
of  General  Logan  and  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Wilson.  It  demanded,  as  from  the  first, 
the  entire  surrender  of  the  place,  the  gar- 
rison, and  the  stores.  "  On  your  accepting 
the  terms  proposed,"  General  Grant's  note 
stated,  "  I  will  march  in  one  division  as  a 
guard,  and  take  possession  at  eight  o'clock 
to-morrow  morning.  As  soon  as  paroles 
can  be  made  out,  and  signed  by  the  officers 
and  men,  you  will  be  allowed  to  march  out 
of  our  lines,  the  officers  taking  with  them 
their  regimental  clothing,  and  staff,  field, 
and  cavalry  officers  one  horse  each.  The 
rank  and  file  will  be  allowed  all  their 
clothing,  but  no  other  property." 

Early  the   next   morning,    the    glorious 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


823 


Fourth  of  July,  Genei-al  Pemberton's  reply 
was  returned.  He  accepted  the  terms  on 
condition  that  his  troops  should  be  per- 
mitted to  march  out  with  their  colors  and 
arms,  stacking  them  outside  of  their  works. 
To  this,  Grant  made  no  objection. 

In  his  account  of  the  grand  closing 
scene  in  this  momentous  military  transac- 
tion, Mr.  Keim  states  that  it  \vas  about 
one  o'clock  p.  m.,  before  matters  had  as- 
sumed such  a  state  of  completion  as  would 
admit  of  the  entrance  of  the  city  by  the 
union  army.  To  General  McPherson  teas 
accorded  the  honor  of  form  ally  receiving 
the  stipulated  surrender.  He  met  Pem- 
berton  half  a  mile  within  the  lines,  where 
they  were  soon  joined  by  Grant,  and  all, 
after  a  few  minutes'  parley,  rode  together 
into  town.  Upon  arriving  at  the  court- 
house, the  troops  were  drawn  up  in  line, 
facing  the  building,  and  the  national  en- 
sign raised  from  its  towering  dome.  This 
done,  the  ceremony  of  possession  was  com- 
pleted by  the  display  of  the  flags  of  the 
Porty-fifth  Illinois  infantry,  and  of  the 
head-quarters  of  the  Seventeenth  corps. 
Upon  the  appearance  of  the  flags,  the 
troops  joined  in  singing  ''  Rally  Round 
the  Flag,''^  with  tumultuous  enthusiasm, 
and  cheered  vociferously — making  the  city 
ring  and  echo  to  its  very  suburbs.  In 
consideration  of  the  active  part  taken  by 
the    Seventeenth    corps  in   the  campaign 


which  culminated  in  the  capture  of  Vicks- 
burg,  that  command  was  designated  by 
General  Grant  to  take  possession  of  the 
city.  No  sooner  was  the  flag  thrown  to 
the  breeze  from  the  court-house,  than  the 
admiral's  glass  caught  sight  of  its  beauti' 
ful  folds,  and  in  due  time  his  vesseJ 
steamed  down  to  the  city,  followed  by  all 
the  gun-boats  in  the  neighborhood,  and 
took  possession  of  a  few  feet  of  river  front. 
All  this  was  duly  done,  after  the  authority 
of  the  army  of  the  United  States  was 
secured  be^'ond  doubt. 

Rarely  if  ever  before  was  such  a  Pourth 
of  July  celebrated  as  this  of  1863.  The 
tidings  of  the  victories  of  Gettysburg  and 
Vicksburg  mingled  together,  and  in  every 
part  of  the  loyal  north  enthusiastic  demon- 
strations of  joy  were  indulged  in.  On  the 
fifteenth  of  July,  President  Lincoln  issued 
a  proclamation  appointing  August  sixth  as 
a  day  of  national  thanksgiving. 

The  result  of  this  memorable  campaign 
and  siege,  as  stated  by  General  Grant, 
was,  '  the  defeat  of  the  confederates  in  five 
battles  outside  of  Vicksburg ;  the  occupa- 
tion of  Jai-kson,  the  capital  of  Mississippi ; 
a  loss  to  the  confederate  army  of  thirty- 
seven  thousand  prisoners,  among  whom 
were  fifteen  general  officers — and  at  least 
ten  thousand  killed  and  wounded,  and 
among  the  killed  Generals  Tracy,  Tilgh- 
man,   and   Green,  and  hundreds,  perhaps 


824 


OUR  PIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


thousands,  of  stragglers,  who  can  never  be 
collected  and  reorganized.  Arms  and 
munitions  of  war  for  an  army  of  sixty- 
thousand  men  have  fallen  into  our  hands ; 
besides  a  large  amount  of  other  public 
property,  consisting  of  railroads,  locomo- 
tives, cars,  steam-boats,  cotton,  etc'  The 
losses  of  the  union  army  were  about  one 
thousand  killed  and  a  little  more  than 
seven  thousand  wounded — about  one-half 
of  them  only  slightly,  and  between  five 
and  six  hundred  missing. 

In  all  respects,  the  campaign  resulting 
in  the  capture  of  Vicksburg  was  one  of  the 
most  skillful  in  the  annals  of  military 
strategy,  and  has  justly  been  pronounced 
unequaled  in  brilliancy  of  conception  and 
the  masterly  tact  with  which  it  was  exe- 
cuted. One  specially  grand  feature  in  the 
result  was,  that  by  silencing  the  confeder- 
ate batteries  that  had  so  long  controlled 
the  Mississippi,  that  most  majestic  river 
on  the  globe  was  again  thrown  open  for 
the  unrestricted  commerce  of  the  United 
States  from  Cairo  to  the  Gulf  —  or,  as 
President  Lincoln  expressed  it,  '  The 
Father  of  Waters  again  goes  unvexed  to 
the  sea.' 

One  of  the  most  interesting  chapters  in 
the  history  of  this  campaign  is  that  con- 
tained in  a  narrative  of  General  Grant's 
interview  with  his  friend  Mr.  Dubois,  of 
Illinois,  the  facts  of  which,  as  given  some 
time  after  in  the  public  journals,  were  as 
follows : 

Early  in  April,  1863,  Generals  Grant, 
Sherman,  and  Oglesby,  Secretary  of  State 
Hatch,  and  Auditor  Jesse  R.  Dubois,  of 
Illinois,  with  some  others,  were  on  board 
the  flagship  of  Commodore  Porter's  squad- 
ron, the  party  having  been  up  the  Yazoo 
river  to  Haines's  Bluff,  on  a  reconnoisance 
of  the  fortifications.  While  the  other 
gentlemen  were  in  the  cabin,  discussing 
public  questions.  General  Grant  and  his 
friend  Dubois  withdrew,  and  being  in 
company  together  on  the  deck,  the  follow- 
ing conversation,  in  substance,  ensued. 
General  Grant  said — 

"  Uncle  Jesse,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I 
have  come  to  my  wit's  end  as  regards  the 


capture  of  Vicksburg.  I  really  do  not 
know  what  next  move  to  make.  I  have 
tried  everything  I  could  think  of,  and  here 
we  are  yet.  I  have  been  advised  that  we 
go  back  to  Memphis,  and  commence  an 
overland  march  from  that  point." 

"  General  Grant,  you  cannot  do  that. 
If  you  take  this  army  back  to  Memphis, 
with  all  this  array  of  gun-boats  and  trans- 
ports and  all  your  material  of  war,  the 
effect  will  be  disastrous  on  the  country. 
.  .  .  .  If  you  can  do  no  better,  3'ou 
must  storm  Vicksburg.  If  it  costs  the 
lives  of  forty  thousand  men,  it  must  be 
taken.  It  is  a  terrible  thing  to  think  of, 
but  it  must  be  done." 

General  Grant  replied  that  he  would 
reflect  upon  the  matter  during  the  night, 
and  let  Mr.  Dubois  know  of  his  determin- 
ation in  the  morning.  When  the  morning 
came,  General  Grant  said — 

"  Uncle  Jesse,  you  are  going  home  to- 
day ;  tell  Governor  Yates  and  the  people 
of  Illinois  for  me,  that  I  will  take  Vicks- 
burg in  sixty  days." 

"  General  Grant,  I  am  glad  to  hear  you 
say  this  ;  but  all  I  ask  you  will  allow  me 
to  tell  them  is,  that  you  will  take  Vicks- 
burg,— I  don't  care  whether  in  sixty  days 
or  six  months." 

"  I  am  bound  to  take  it.  I  have  decided 
on  my  plans.  I  will  not  tell  you  what 
they  are.  Even  with  the  best  intentions, 
you  might  disclose  them  to  the  detriment 
of  the  movement." 

They  then  parted,  and  General  Grant 
detailed  his  plan  to  General  Sherman,  who 
protested  in  writing,  but  jilaced  himself 
under  the  general's  orders. 

Auditor  Dubois  went  home  and  told 
Governor  Yates  that  Grant  would  take 
Vicksburg ;  that  he  had  no  doubt  of  it ; 
that  General  Grant  told  him  to  tell  him 
so,  and  that  he  must  tell  it  to  the  people 
as  coming  from  General  Grant.  This 
promise  of  General  Grant  was  published 
in  the  papers  at  the  time,  and  Governor 
Yates  repeated  it  from  the  stump. 

Not  the  least  interesting  incidents  in 
connection  with  this  matter,  in  view  of  the 
final   result,   are,  the   written   protest   by 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


825 


General  Sherman  against  General  Grant's 
circuitous  march  around  Vicksburg,  and 
by  which  he  cut  himself  off  from  his  base 
of  supplies ;  General  Sherman's  direction 
that  the  protest  be  forwarded  to  Washing- 
ton, and  General  Grant's  never  so  forward- 
ing it;  and  afterward,  when  Vicksburg 
was  about  to  surrender,  the  tearing  up  of 
said  protest,  by  General  Grant,  in  General 
Sherman's  presence,  much  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  the  latter. 

A  more  humorous  incident,  and  which 
will  bear  to  be  repeated,  was  that  which 
transpired  in  the  presence    of   President 


Lincoln,  to  whom  complaint  had  been 
made  that  General  Grant  was  in  the  habit 
of  using  intoxicating  drinks  to  excess. 
"So  I  understand  Grant  drinks  whiskey  to 
excess  ? "  interrogatively  remarked  the 
president.  "  Yes,"  was  the  reply.  "  What 
whiskey  does  he  drink?"  inquired  Mr. 
Lincoln.  "  What  whiskey  ?  "  doubtfully 
queried  his  hearers.  "  Yes.  Is  it  Bour- 
bon or  Monongahela  ?  "  "  "Wliy  do  you 
ask,  Mr.  President?"  "Because,  if  it 
makes  him  win  victories  like  this  at  Vicks- 
burg, I  will  senvl  a  demijohn  of  the  same 
kind  to  every  general  in  the  army." 


XCYI. 

THREE  DAYS'  BATTLE  BETWEEN"  THE  CONCENTRATED 

ARMIES  OF  GENERALS  MEADE  AND  LEE,  AT 

GETTYSBURG,   PA.— 1863. 


Overwhelming  Invasion  of  Pennsylvania  by  the  Confederate  Forces. — The  Union  Army  Drives  Them 
with  Great  Slaughter  Across  the  Potomac. — Unsuccessful  Attempt  to  Transfer  the  Seat  of  War  from 
Virginia  to  Northern  Soil. — One  of  the  Most  Decisive  and  Important  Federal  Victories  in  the  Great 
American  Civil  Conflict. — Lee's  Army  Impatient  to  go  North — Order  of  March  at  Last. — Consterna- 
tion in  the  Border  States. — Call  for  One  Hundred  Thousand  More  Men — Advance  of  Meade's  Army. 
— Face  to  Face  with  the  Foe. — Engagement  Between  the  Vanguards. — Terrific  Artillery  Contests. — 
Movements  and  Counter  Movements.  —  Severe  Reverses  on  Both  Sides. —  Carnage  at  Cemetery 
Hill. — Longstreet's  Furious  Onset. — Most  Destructive  Cannonade. — Gettysburg  a  Vast  Hospital. — 
Crawford's  Grand  Charge — Standing  by  the  Batteries  ! — Hand-to-Hand  Conflict. — Following  the 
Battle-Flag. — Deadly  and  Im^ietuous  Fighting. — Forty  one  Confederate  Standards  Taken.  —  Un- 
bounded Joy  of  the  Victors. — President  Lincoln's  Announcement. 


"  this  day  hath  made 

Much  work  for  tears  in  many  a  hapless  mother. 
Whose  80UB  lie  scattered  on  the  bleeding  ground." 


EE'S  vast  and  powerful  army   liad  long  waited,  with   eager  and  restless 

expectation,  for  the   order  of   march  from   their  chieftain  which   should 

r  ,^  enable  them  to  transfer  the  seat  of  civil  war 

from  the  familiar  encampments  and  blood- 
stained battle-fields  of  Virginia  to  the  soil  of 
the  North.  The  plans  of  the  commanding 
general  were  in  due  time  arranged  with  this 
end  in  view,  and,  about  the  middle  of  June, 
1863,  he  began  to  move  his  troops  across  the 
Potomac,  an(^  soon  took  possession  of  Hagers- 
town,  Md.,  intending  immediately  to  move 
thence,  in  full  force,  direct  to  Pennsylvania. 
Such  a  movement,  on  the  part  of  the  con- 
federate army,  so  sudden  and  well  executed,  produced  great  consternation 
throughout  the  north.  President  Lincoln  issued  a  call  for  one  hundred  thousand  addi- 
tional men  from  the  loyal  states  nearest  the  theater  of  military  operations  ;  and  Gen- 
eral Meade,  who  had  just  succeeded  General  Hooker  in  command  of  the  army  of  the 
Potomac,  lost  no  time  in  advancing  his  army  northward,  as  far  as  Harrisburg,  Pa.,  the 
place  of  destination  of  Lee's  forces.  The  army  of  General  Meade  consisted  of  the  fol- 
lowing corps  :    First,  under  command  of  General  Reynolds,  and  subsequently  under 


MEADE'S  HEAD-Q0ARTERS. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


827 


General  Doubleclay ;  second,  under  Gen- 
eral Hancock;  third,  under  General  Sick- 
les ;  fifth,  under  General  Sykes  ;  sixth, 
under  General  Sedgwick  ;  eleventh,  under 
General  Howard  ;  twelfth,  under  General 
Slocum.  Total  number  of  men,  sixty  to 
eighty  thousand,  with  two  hundred  guns. 
The  army  of  General  Lee  consisted  of 
General  Hill's  corps,  General  Longstreet's, 
and  General  Ewell's ;  in  all,  about  ninety 
thousand  men,  and  two  hundred  guns. 

On  the  first  of  July,  the  advanced  corps 
of  the  union  army,  led  by  Rej'nolds  and 
Howard,  engaged  the  confederate  forces 
near  Gettysburg.  General  Reynolds  ap- 
proached the  town  from  the  south-east,  the 
confederates  evacuating  it  on  his  arrival. 
He  passed  through  and  out  (says  the 
account  of  a  writer  in  the  Philadelphia 
Age)  on  the  west  side  toward  Chambers- 
burg.  He  marched  several  miles,  was  met 
by  the  eneni}^  in  stronger  force,  and  after 
a  slight  contest  was  compelled  to  retire. 
The  confederates  pushed  him  very  hard, 
and  he  came  into  the  town  on  a  run,  his 
troops  going  along  every  available  road, 
and  rushing  out  on  the  east  side,  closely 
pursued.  One  of  his  brigades  with  a  con- 
federate brigade  on  each  side  of  it.  All 
three  were  abreast,  running  as  hard  as 
they  could, — the  two  outside  ones  pouring 
a  heavy  fire  into  the  center,  out  of  which 
men  dropped,  killed  or  wounded,  at  almost 
every  footstep.  This  federal  brigade,  in 
running  that  terrible  gauntlet,  lost  half  its 
men.  General  Reynolds  was  killed,  and 
Gettysburg  was  lost ;  but  the  federal 
troops  succeeded  in  mounting  the  Ceme- 
tery Hill,  and  the  confederates  ceased  pur- 
suing. At  night,  the  latter  encamped  in 
the  town,  and  the  union  troops  on  the 
hill.  During  Wednesday  night  and 
Thursday  morning,  the  two  armies  w^ere 
concentrating  on  the  two  ridges,  which 
were  to  be  the  next  day's  line  of  battle, 
and  by  noon  on  Thursday  each  general 
had  a  force  of  eighty  thousand  men  at  his 
disposal.  Then  began  the  great  artillery 
contest,  the  infantry  on  both  sides  crouch- 
ing behind  fences  and  trees  and  in  rifle- 
pits.     The  federal  soldiers  in  the  cemetery 


laid  many  of  the  tombstones  on  the  ground 
to  prevent  injury,  so  that  many  escaped. 
There  was  but  little  infantrj'  fighting  on 
Thursday,  and  neither  party  made  much  im- 
pression on  the  other.  The  confederates  in 
the  other  town  erected  barricades,  and  had 
their  sharpshooters  posted  in  every  availa- 
ble spot,  picking  off  federal  soldiers  on  the 
hills  to  the  north  of  the  cemetery.  The 
cannonade  was  fierce  and  incessant,  and 
shells  from  both  sides  flew  over  and  into 
the  devoted  town.  Beyond  killing  and 
wounding,  breaking  trees  and  shattering 
houses,  and  making  an  awful  noise,  how- 
ever, this  cannonade  had  but  little  effect 
on  the  result  of  the  battle.  Both  sides 
fought  with  great  ferocity,  and  neither 
could  drive  the  other  out  of  position. 

On  Thursday  night,  fearing  that  the 
enemy  had  flank  parties  which  might  turn 
his  rear.  General  Meade  had  serious  inten- 
tions of  a  change  in  his  plan  of  movements, 
and  he  called  a  council  of  war.  The  ad- 
vice of  some  of  his  generals,  however,  and 
the  capture  of  a  courier  with  dispatches 
from  Richmond,  from  which  it  was  learned 
that  the  confederates  could  receive  no 
re-enforcements,  made  him  decide  not  to 
alter  his  programme.  On  Friday  morning. 
General  Lee  did  not  desire  to  make  the 
attack.  He  saw  the  superiority  of  the 
federal  position,  and  wished  to  entice  them 
out  of  it  and  down  into  the  valley.  With 
this  design  in  view,  he  withdrew  all  his 
sharpshooters  and  infantry  from  Gettys- 
burg. The  deserted  town  lay  there  a  very 
tempting  bait,  but  General  Meade's  men 
hid  quietly  behind  the  fences  and  trees, 
and  the  banks  upon  the  hills.  They  could 
look  down  into  the  streets  and  see  every- 
thing that  was  in  progress.  They  saw  the 
confederates  march  out  and  retire  to  the 
seminary,  but  made  no  advance,  and  the 
confederates  gained  nothing  by  the  move- 
ment. A  parting  salute  of  musketry, 
however,  from  a  knoll  north  of  the  ceme- 
tery, accelerated  the  confederate  retreat. 
For  some  time  the  town  had  scarcely  a 
soldier  in  it.  Scores  of  dead  and  wounded 
men  and  horses,  with  broken  wagons, 
bricks,  stones,  timber,  torn  clothing,  and 


828 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


abandoned  accoutrements,  lay  there.  The 
frightened  inhabitants  peered  out  of  their 
windows  to  see  what  the  armies  were  doing 
to  cause  such  a  lull,  and,  almost  afraid  of 
their  own  shadows,  they  hastened  away 
and  crouched  in  corners  and  cellars  at  the 
sound  of    very  shot  or  shell. 

Of  the  :;tirring  scenes  that  so  soon  fol- 
lowed, the  same  correspondent  says  :  Gen- 
eral Lee's  evacuation,  however,  had  no 
effect.  Meade  was  neither  to  be  enticed 
into  the  town  nor  into  the  valley.  Enough 
dead  bodies  lay  in  the  fields  and  streets  to 
give  him  warning  of  what  happened  to 
poor  Reynolds  two  days  before,  and  he 
wisely  determined  to  stay  where  he  was 
and  let  events  shape  themselves.  The 
confederates  soon  became  impatient.  They 
could  wait  no  longer;  and  after  much 
solicitation  from  his  subordinates,  General 


Lee  permitted  General  Longstreet  to  send 
his  grand  division  on  a  charge  upon  the 
cemetery.  The  federal  soldiers  were  on 
the  alert.  They  were  hid  behind  their 
embankments,  some  kneeling,  and  some 
flat  on  the  ground.  The  confederate  artil- 
lery opened.  It  was  as  fierce  a  cannonade 
as  the  one  the  day  before,  but  instead  of 
being  spread  all  over  the  line,  every  shell 
was  thrown  at  the  cemetery.  Experienced 
soldiers  soon  divined  what  was  coming, 
and,  in  every  portion  of  the  federal  line, 
the  cannon  were  directed  toward  the  valley 
in  front  of  the  cemetery.  All  were  read}'. 
Amidst  the  furious  fire  from  the  confeder- 


ate cannon  scarcely  a  federal  shot  was 
heard.  The  artillerists,  implements  in 
hand,  crouched  in  the  little  ditches  dug 
behind  their  cannon.  With  arms  loaded, 
the  infantry  awaited  the  charge.  It  soon 
came.  From  the  woods  of  short,  scrubby 
timber  and  the  rocks  near  the  seminary, 
there  rose  a  yell.  It  ivas  a  long,  loud, 
unremitting,  hideous  screech,  from  tliou' 
sands  of  voices.  At  the  yell,  the  federal 
cannon  opened.  Soon  the  confederate  col- 
umns emerged  from  the  woods.  They 
came  on  a  rush  down  the  hill,  waving  their 
arms  and  still  screeching.  They  climbed 
the  fences  and  rushed  along,  each  one  bent 
upon  getting  first  into  the  cemetery.  The 
cannon  roared,  and  grape  and  canister  and 
spherical  case  fell  thick  among  them. 
Still  they  rushed  onward,  hundreds  falling 
out  of  the  line.  They  came  within  musket- 
shot  of  the  federal  troops.  Then  the  small 
arms  began  to  rattle.  The  confederates 
approached  the  outer  line  of  works.  They 
were  laboring  up  the  hill.  As  they 
mounted  the  low  bank  in  front  of  the  rifle- 
pits,  the  federal  soldiers  retreated  out  of 
the  ditch  behind,  turning  and  firing  as 
they  went  along.  It  was  a  hand-to-hand 
conflict.  Every  man  fought  for  himself 
and  by  himself.  Myriads  of  confederates 
pushed  forward  down  the  hill,  across  into 
the  works,  and  up  to  the  cemetery.  All 
were  shouting,  and  screaming,  and  swear- 
ing, clashing  their  arms  and  firing  their 
pieces.  The  confederate  shells  flew  over 
the  field  upon  the  federal  artillerists  on 
the  hills  above.  These,  almost  disregard- 
ing the  storm  which  raged  around  them, 
directed  all  their  fire  upon  the  surging 
columns  of  the  enemy's  charge.  Every 
available  cannon  on  Cemetery  Hill,  and  to 
the  right  and  left,  threw  its  shells  and 
shot  in  the  valley.  The  fight  was  terrible ; 
but,  despite  every  effort,  the  confederates 
])ushed  up  the  hill  and  across  the  second 
line  of  works.  The  fire  became  hotter. 
The  fight  swayed  back  and  forth.  One 
moment  the  confederates  Avould  beat  the 
railings  of  the  cemetery;  then  a  rush 
from  the  federal  side  would  drive  them 
down  into  the  valley.     Then,  with  one  of 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


829 


their  horrid  screeches,  they  would  fiercely 
run  up  the  hill  again  into  the  cemetery, 
and  have  a  fierce  battle  among  the  tomb- 
stones. It  was  the  hardest  fight  of  the 
day,  and  hundreds  were  slain  there.  Sev- 
eral attemi)ts  were  made  to  tal:c  the  place, 
but  they  were  not  successful,  and  late  in 
the  afternoon,  leaving  dead  and  v,-ounded 
behind  them,  the  confederate  forces  re- 
treated upon  their  own  hill  and  into  their 
woods  again.  They  were  not  routed. 
They  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  been 
driven.  They  made  an  attack  and  were 
repulsed,  and,  after  renewed  attempts, 
feeling  that  '■  was  useless  to  try  any  more, 
they  retreated.  It  was  now  General 
Meade's  turn  to  make  an  attack.  Though 
they  had  lost  heavily  they  felt  elated. 
They  saw  hopes  of  a  victory,  and  were 
ready  to  do  almost  anything  to  secure  it. 
Although  there  had  been  a  battle  in  the 
valley  below  Gettysburg,  yet  the  town  was 
as  quiet  and  as  much  deserted  as  ever. 
Shells  flew  over  it,  and  now  and  then  one 
of  its  houses  would  have  a  wall  cracked  or 
a  roof  broken,  but  neither  force  possessed 
it.  General  Meade  turned  his  attention 
there. 

The  day  was  waning  and  the  battle  had 
lulled,  and  Meade  determined,  if  possible, 
to  drive  the  confederates  out  of  the  semin- 
ary. This  was  done,  according  to  the 
writer  already  quoted,  as  follows :  His 
troops  were  placed  in  order,  and  charged 
down  the  hill  and  into  the  town.  They 
ran  along  every  street,  chasing  a  few  of 
the  enemy  still  hid  there,  before  them. 
They  came  out  upon  the  west  side,  along 
the  Emmettsburg  and  Chambersburg 
roads,  and  ascended  the  enem3''s  hills 
amidst  a  storm  of  grape  and  shell.  At 
the  seminary  the  confederates  were  not 
very  strong.  They  had  weakened  that 
portion  of  the  line  to  make  their  attack 
further  to  the  south  upon  the  cemetery. 
They  had  but  few  cannon ;  and  though 
they  resisted  some  time,  they  finally  re- 
treated from  the  edge  of  the  hill  and  aban- 
doned the  seminary.  The  federal  troops 
did  not  chase  them.  The  land  back  of  the 
seminary  was  rather  flat  and  cut  up  into 


grain  fields,  with  here  and  there  a  patch 
of  woods.  The  rifle-pits  on  the  brow  of 
the  hill  proved  an  effectual  aid  to  the  fed- 
eral soldiers  in  maintaining  their  ground; 
and  as  they  lay  behind  the  bank,  with  the 
ditch  in  front,  they  could  pick  off  the 
stragglers  from  the  retreating  enemy. 
There  was  but  little  serious  fighting  after 
that,  and  night  put  an  end  to  Friday's 
struggle,  the  confederates  having  retired 
about  a  mile  on  the  north,  near  the  semin- 
ary, and  half  a  mile  on  the  south,  at  a 
little  stream.  During  the  night,  the  dead 
in  the  streets  of  Gettysburg  were  buried, 
and  the  wounded  on  all  parts  of  the  field 
were  collected  and  carried  to  the  rear.  On 
the  next  morning,  General  Meade  expected 
another  attack ;  but,  instead  of  making  it, 
the  confederates  retreated  further,  aban- 
doning their  entire  line  of  battle,  and  the 
pickets  reported  that  they  were  intrench- 
ing at  the  foot  of  South  Mountain.  The 
federal  army  was  terribly  crippled  and 
sadl}'  m  need  of  rest,  and  no  advance  was 
made,  although  pickets  were  thrown  across 
the  enemy's  old  line  of  battle,  and  toward 
the  place  where  they  were  building  in- 
trenchments.  All  the  day  was  spent  in 
feeding  and  resting  the  men.  Gettysburg 
was  turned  into  a  vast  hospital,  and  im- 
promptu ones  were  made  at  a  dozen  places 
on  the  field.  The  rain  came,  too,  and  with 
it  cool  air  and  refreshment  both  from  wind 
and  rain.  No  one  could  tell  what  the  con- 
federates were  doing ;  every  picket  reported 
that  they  were  intrenching,  and  the  night 
of  the  fourth  of  July  closed  upon  the  field, 
the  federal  army  being  in  full  possession. 

The  gallant  charge  made  by  the  division 
under  Crawford's  command,  contributed 
very  materially  to  saving  the  left  of  the 
federal  army.  The  confederates  had 
massed  their  troops  on  Crawford's  left. 
The  third  corps,  Sickles's,  had  been  en- 
gaging the  enemy,  but  were  overpow- 
ered, and  several  guns  had  been  lost. 
Two  divisions,  of  the  fifth  corps,  Sykes's, 
had  been  also  engaged,  but  nothing  could 
withstand  the  confederate  pressure,  and 
their  troops  gave  way.  Several  thou- 
sand arms  had  been  lost.     On  came  the 


830 


OUR  FIEST  CENTURY.-1776-1876. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


831 


confederates  in  a  dark  mass,  across  the 
wheat  tield,  over  the  stone  wall,  and  across 
the  ravine.  At  this  moment,  while  the 
fugitives  were  rushing  through  Crawford's 
ranks,  he  ordered  a  charge.  He  was 
drawn  up  in  line  of  battle,  and  in  column 
of  division.  His  men,  with  loud  cheers, 
rushed  forward.  Crawford  himself  rode  to 
the  front,  and,  seizing  the  flag  of  the  lead- 
ing regiment,  encouraged  the  men.  They 
dashed  in ;  volley  after  volley  was  poured 
into  the  confederate  ranks.  The  federals 
got  ahead,  and  drove  the  confederates  back 
across  the  ravine,  over  the  stone  wall,  and 
through  the  wheat  field,  retaking  the 
unionists'  ground  and  an  immense  quantity 
of  arms.  The  left  of  the  federal  position 
was  saved  by  this  charge,  enabling  them 
to  remain  masters  of  the  field. 

A  fit  illustration  of  the  sanguinary  char- 
acter of  the  afternoon  struggle  already  de- 
scribed, is  that  given  by  Mr.  Whitelaw  Reid, 
one  of  the  gifted  correspondents  of  the  Cin- 
cinnati Gazette.  Mr.  Reid  says  that  some 
Massachusetts  batteries  —  Captain  Bige- 
low's.  Captain  Phillips's,  and  two  or  three 
more  under  Captain  McGilvry,  of  Maine 
— were  planted  on  the  extreme  left,  ad- 
vanced now  well  down  to  the  Emmettsburg 
road,  with  infantrj'-  in  their  front, —  the 
first  division  of  Sickles's  corps.  A  little 
after  five,  a  fierce  confederate  charge  drove 
back  the  infantry  and  menaced  the  batter- 
ies. Orders  were  sent  to  Bigelow  on  the 
extreme  left,  to  hold  his  position  at  every 
hazard  short  of  sheer  annihilation,  till  a 
couple  more  batteries  could  be  brought  to 
his  support.  Reserving  his  fire  a  little, 
then  with  depressed  guns  opening  with 
double  charges  of  grape  and  canister,  he 
smote  and  shattered,  but  could  not  break 
the  advancing  line.  His  grape  and  canis- 
ter became  exhausted,  and  still,  closing 
grandly  up  over  their  slain,  on  they  rushed. 
He  fell  back  on  spherical  case,  and  poured 
this  in  at  the  shortest  range.  On,  still 
onward,  came  the  artillery-defying  line, 
and  still  he  held  his  position.  They  got 
■within  six  paces  of  the  guns — he  fired 
again.  Once  more,  and  he  blew  devoted 
soldiers   from   their  very  muzzles.     And, 


still  mindful  of  that  solemn  order,  he  held 
his  place ;  they  spring  upon  his  carriages, 
and  shoot  his  horses !  And  then,  his 
Yankee  artillerists  still  about  him,  he 
seized  the  guns  by  hand,  and  from  the 
very  front  of  that  line  dragged  two  of  them 
off.  The  caissons  were  farther  back — five 
out  of  the  six  are  saved.  That  single  c<xnr 
pany,  in  that  half  hour's  fight,  lost  thirty- 
three  of  its  men,  including  every  sergeant 
it  had,  and  the  captain  himself  was 
wounded.  Yet  it  was  the  first  time  it  was 
ever  under  fire.  So  they  fought  along 
that  fiery  line !  The  confederates  now 
poured  ujDon  Phillijjs's  battery,  and  it,  too, 
was  forced  to  drag  off  the  pieces  by  hand 
when  the  horses  were  shot  down.  From  a 
new  position,  it  opened  again ;  and  at  last 
the  two  re-enforcing  batteries  came  up  on 
the  gallop.  An  enfilading  fire  swept  the 
confederate  line  ;  Sickles's  gallant  infantry 
charged,  the  confederate  line  swept  back 
on  a  refluent  tide — the  unionists  regained 
their  lost  ground,  and  every  gun  they  had 
just  lost  in  this  splendid  fight. 

Mr.  Reid,  as  an  eye  witness,  character- 
izes the  sanguinary  struggle  at  four  o'clock 
as  the  great,  desperate,  and  final  charge. 
The  confederates  seemed  to  have  gathered 
up  all  their  strength  and  desperation  for 
one  fierce,  convulsive  effort,  that  should 
sweep  over  and  wash  out  all  resistance. 
They  swept  up  as  before ;  the  flower  of 
their  army  to  the  front — victory  staked 
upon  the  issue.  In  some  places,  they  lit- 
erally lifted  up  and  pushed  back  the  union 
lines ;  but,  that  terrible  '  position '  of  the 
federals  ! — wherever  they  entered  it,  enfi- 
lading fires  from  half  a  score  of  crests 
swept  away  their  columns  like  merest 
chaff.  Broken  and  hurled  back,  they 
easily  became  prisoners ;  and  on  the  center 
and  left,  the  last  half  hour  brought  more 
prisoners  than  all  the  rest.  So  it  was 
along  the  whole  line ;  but  it  was  on  the 
second  corps  that  the  flower  of  the  confed- 
erate army  was  concentrated  ;  it  was  there 
that  the  heaviest  shock  beat  upon,  and 
shook,  and  even  sometimes  crumbled,  the 
federal  line.  The  federals  had  some  shal- 
low rifle-pits,  with  barricades  of  rails  from 


832 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  fences.  The  confederate  line,  stretch- 
ing away  miles  to  the  left,  in  magnificent 
array,  but  strongest  here, — Pickett's  splen- 
did division  of  Longstreet's  corps  in  front, 
the  best  of  A.  P.  Hill's  veterans  in  support 
— came  steadily,  and  as  it  seemed  resist- 
lessly,  sweeping  up.  The  federal  skir- 
mishers retired  slowly  from  the  Emmetts- 
burg  road,  holding  their  ground  tenaciously 
to  the  last.  The  confederates  reserved 
their  fire  till  they  reached  this  same  Em- 
mettsburg  road,  then  opened  with  a  ter- 
rific crash.  From  a  hundred  iron  throats, 
meantime,  their  artillery  had  been  thun- 
dering on  the  union  barricades.  Hancock 
was  wounded;  Gibbon  succeeded  to  the 
command — approved  soldier,  and  ready  for 


mere  machine  strength  of  their  combined 
action — swept  the  confederates  on.  The 
federal  thin  line  could  fight,  but  it  had  not 
weight  enough  to  oppose  to  this  momen- 
tum. It  was  pushed  behind  the  guns. 
Right  on  came  the  confederates.  They 
were  upon  the  guns — were  bayoneting  the 
gunners — were  waving  their  flags  above 
the  federal  pieces.  But  they  had  pene- 
trated to  the  fatal  point.  A  storm  of 
grape  and  canister  tore  its  way  from  man 
to  man,  and  marked  its  track  with  corpses 
straight  down  their  line  !  They  had  ex- 
posed themselves  to  the  enfilading  fire  of 
the  guns  on  the  western  slope  of  Cemetery 
Hill ;  that  exposure  sealed  their  fate.  The 
line   reeled   back — disjointed  already — in 


^\SJwa*/>^o 


the  crisis.  As  the  tempest  of  fire  ap- 
proached its  height,  he  walked  along  the 
line,  and  renewed  his  orders  to  the  men  to 
reserve  their  fire.  The  confederates — 
three  lines  deep — came  steadily  up.  They 
were  in  point-blank  range.  At  last  the 
order  came!  From  thrice  six  thousand 
guns,  there  came  a  sheet  of  smoky  flame, 
a  crash,  a  rush  of  leaden  death.  The  line 
literally  melted  away ;  but  there  came  the 
second,  resistless  still.  It  had  been  the 
unionists'  supreme  effort — on  the  instant, 
they  were  not  equal  to  another.  Up  to 
the  rifle-pits,  across  them,  over  the  barri- 
cades— the  momentum  of  their  charge,  the 


an  instant  in  fragments.  The  union 
troops  were  just  behind  the  guns.  They 
leaped  forward  upon  the  disordered  mass ; 
but  there  was  little  need  for  fighting  now. 
A  regiment  threw  down  its  arms,  and, 
with  colors  at  its  head,  rushed  over  and 
surrendered.  All  along  the  field,  smaller 
detachments  did  the  same.  Webb's  bri- 
gade brought  in  eight  hundred ;  Gibbon's 
old  division  took  fifteen  stand  of  colors. 
Over  the  fields,  the  escaped  fragments  of 
the  charging  line  fell  back — the  battle 
there  was  over.  A  single  brigade,  Har- 
row's, came  out  with  fifty-four  less  officers, 
and  seven  hundred  and  ninety-three  less 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


833 


men  (the  Seventh  Micliigan  regiment  was 
of  this  brigade,)  than  it  took  in.  So  the 
■whole  cor[)s  fought — so  too  they  fought 
farther  down  the  hue.  It  was  fruitless 
sacritice.  They  gathered  up  their  bi'oken 
fragments,  formed  their  lines,  and  slowly 
marched  away.  It  was  not  a  rout,  it  was 
a  bitter,  crushing  defeat. 

Among  the  individual  instances  of  brav- 
ery narrated  of  this  terrible  combat  be- 
tween the  two  great  armies,  that  of  Henry 
Shaler,  of  Indianapolis,  will  bear  repeti- 
tion, for  he  seems  to  have  more  than 
equaled  the  self-told  mythical  performance 
of  the  Irishman  who  'surrounded'  a  half- 
dizen  of  the  enemy  and  bagged  them 
plump.  Shaler  took  more  prisoners  in 
this  battle  than  any  other  man  in  the 
army — in  all,  twenty-five  men,  including 
one  lieutenant  and  eighteen  privates  at 
one  swoop.  He  took  them  by  strategy  of 
the  most  undoubted  kind ;  that  is,  he  sur- 
rounded them,  and  they  had  to  give  up. 
On  the  morning  of  the  fourth,  he  went  out 
with  his  'poncho'  over  his  shoulders,  so 
that  the  confederates  couldn't  see  his  coat, 
and  thus  they  thought  he  was  one  of  their 
own  men.  He  went  up  and  told  them  to 
lay  down  their  arms  and  come  and  help 
carry  some  wounded  off  the  field  ;  they 
did  so.  When  he  got  them  away  from 
their  arms,  he  rode  up  to  the  lieutenant 
and  told  him  to  give  up  his  sword.  The 
lieutenant  refused  at  first,  but  Shaler  drew 
his  revolver,  and  the  lieutenant  yielded 
without  a  shot,  and  the  whole  squad  were 
then  escorted  by  their  gallant  captor  into 
camp. 

The  heroism  of  General  Kilpatrick — 
like  that  of  Couch,  Geary,  Biiford,  Birney, 
Newton,  Gregg,  Mcintosh,  Neil,  and  oth- 
ers— was  conspicuous  from  first  to  last. 
On  the  thirteenth,  some  ten  days  after  the 
close  of  the  conflict.  General  Kilpatrick 
was  anxious  to  make  an  advance,  but 
could  not  obtain  orders.  Some  of  the 
Pennsylvania  militia  having  been  placed 
at  his  disposal,  he  thought  he  would  try 
one  regiment  under  fire.  The  Philadel- 
phia Blues  were  selected,  and,  accompa- 
nied by  the  First  Vermont  cavalry,  a  dem- 
53 


onstration  was  made  on  the  right — the 
confederates  then  occupying  a  fortified 
position.  The  militia  were  now  deployed, 
the  general  desiring  them  to  move  to  the 
crest  of  a  knoll,  where  the  bullets  were 
flying  pretty  lively.  There  was  some  hes- 
itancy at  first,  whereupon  a  battle-flag  pre- 
sented to  the  division  by  the  ladies  of 
Boonsboro'  was  sent  to  the  front.  Ser- 
geant Judy,  bearer  of  the  flag,  cried  out — 

"  17iis  is  General  Kilpatrick's  battle- 
flag  ;  folloiv  it !  " 

The  militia  obeyed  the  summons 
promptly,  and  fell  some  distance  in  front 
of  the  line,  and  it  was  supposed  for  some 
time  that  the  enemy  had  captured  the  flag; 
but  at  night,  when  Judy  was  brought  in 
on  a  litter,  he  proudly  waved  the  battle- 
flag.  The  novelty  of  being  thus  under 
fire  for  the  first  time  was  keenly  felt  by 
the  militia.  About  the  first  man  touched 
had  the  top  of  his  head  grazed  just  close 
enough  to  draw  blood.  He  halted — threw 
down  his  musket  —  truly  an  astonished 
man !  One  or  two  officers  and  a  dozen  or 
more  privates  ran  hurriedly  to  see  what 
tlie  matter  was.  Running  both  hands  over 
his  pate,  and  seeing  blood,  he  exclaimed, 
"A  ball !  a  ball  !  " — while  the  others  stood 
on  agape  with  astonishment,  until  the 
shrill  voice  of  the  general  sounded  in  their 
ears  :  "  Moiie  on  there  !  " 

On  the  opening  movement  being  made 
to  baffle  Lee's  march  toward  Pennsylva- 
nia, the  spirit  which  animated  those  who 
had  gone  forth  in  defense  of  tire  American 
Union — "  man's  last,  best  \\o\)e,  of  free 
government," — was  conspicuously  mani- 
fest. At  a  distance  of  fifteen  miles  from 
Gettj'sburg,  where  the  armies  were  mass- 
ing, were  first  caught  the  murmurs  of  the 
opening  battle,  and  from  that  time  the 
scene  was  all  enthusiasm  among  the  wear}', 
foot-sore  federals,  who  counted  as  nothing 
all  the  pains  of  a  march  of  nearly  two  hun- 
dred miles,  now  that  they  were  within 
striking  distance  of  the  foe.  Most  of  the 
way,  the  ambulance  train  had  been  crowded 
with  both  officers  and  men,  weary,  worn, 
and  haggard ;  but  the  cannon's  rattle,  as 
it  became  more  and  more  distinct,  changed 


834 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


them  in  a  twinkling  into  new  creatures. 
The  New  Jersey  brigade,  in  Sedgwick's 
corps,  was  of  this  body.  At  about  three 
o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of  July  3d,  the 
head  of  the  column  arrived  on  the  battle- 
ground.    As  it  came  to  a  halt,  a  poor  fel- 


80LDIER8*  MONUMENT  AT  GETTYSBURG. 

low,  who  looked  the  very  image  of  death, 
hobbled  out  of  the  ambulance  in  which  he 
had  been  lying,  and,  shouldering  his 
musket,  was  just  starting  forward,  when 
the  surgeon  stopped  him  with — 
"  Where  are  you  going,  sir  ?  " 
"  To  the  front,  doctor," — and  the  brave 
fellow  tried  hard  to  stand  firm  and  speak 
boldly  as  he  saluted  the  surgeon. 

"To  the  front!     What !  a  man  in  your 
condition  ?      Why,  sir,   you  can't  march 


half  a  mile ;  you  haven't  the  strength  to 
carry  yourself,  let  alone  your  knapsack, 
musket,  and  equipments.  You  must  be 
crazy,  surely." 

'•  But,  doctor,  my  division  are  in  the 
fight,"  (here  he  grasped  the  wheel  of  an 
ambulance  to  support  himself,)  "and  I  have 
a  younger  brother  in  my  company.  I 
must  go." 

"  But  I  am  your  surgeon,  and  I  forbid 
you.  You  have  every  symptom  of  ty- 
phoid fever;  a  little  over-exertion  will  kill 
you." 

"W^ell,  doctor,  if  I  must  die,  I  would 
rather  die  in  the  field,  than  in  an  ambu- 
lance." 

The  doctor  saw  it  was  useless  to  debate 
the  point,  and  the  soldier  went  as  he  de- 
sired. But  on  the  evening  of  the  next 
daj'  he  was  buried  where  he  fell — for  fall 
he  did — his  right  arm  blown  off  at  the 
elbow,  and  his  forehead  pierced  by  a  minie 
ball. 

The  impetuous  bravery  with  which  the 
confedei-ate  troops  fought  is  illustrated  by 
the  fact  that  every  brigadier  in  Pickett's  di- 
vision was  killed  or  wounded  ;  out  of  twen- 
ty-four regimental  officers,  only  two  escaped 
unhurt;  the  colonels  of  five  Virginia  reg- 
iments were  killed;  the  ninth  Virginia 
went  in  with  two  hundred  and  fifty  men, 
and  came  out  with  only  thirty-eight. 
These  data  show  that  the  total  casualties 
of  the  confederate  army,  though  never 
officially  published,  must  have  been  im- 
mense— greater,  probablj^,  than  those  of 
the  victorious.  The  latter,  as  given  by 
General  Meade,  Avere  as  follows :  two 
thousand  and  eight  hundred  and  thirty- 
four  killed;  thirteen  thousand  and  seven 
hundred  and  nine  wounded ;  six  thou- 
sand and  six  hundred  and  forty-three 
missing.  The  union  army  took  forty- 
one  standards,  nearly  twenty-five  thou- 
sand small  arms,  and  about  fourteen 
thousand  prisoners. 

So  great  was  the  joy  throughout  the 
loyal  states,  as  the  tidings  of  victory 
flashed  across  the  wires,  that,  on  the  fore- 
noon of  July  4th,  President  Lincoln  offi- 
cially telegraphed  as  follows : 


GREAT  AND  MEMOEABLE  EVENTS. 


835 


"The  President  announces  to  the  ooun- 
tr}'  that  news  from  tlie  Army  of  tlie  Poto- 
mac, up  to  10  p.  M.  of  tlie  3(1,  is  such  as  to 
cover  that  army  with  the  liighest  honor ; 
to  promise  a  great  success  to  the  cause  of 
the  Union,  and  to   chiim  the   condolence 


of  all  for  the  many  gallant  fallen ;  and 
that  for  this  he  especially  desires  that 
on  this  day,  He,  whose  will,  not  ours, 
should  ever  be  done,  be  everywhere  re- 
membered and  reverenced  with  profound- 
est  gratitude." 


XCVII. 

ORATORICAL  CHAMPIONSHIP  OF  AMERICA'S  CAUSE  IN 
ENGLAND,  BY  REV.  H.  W.   BEECHER.— 18G3. 


His  Olympian  Speeches,  in  Defiance  of  British  Sentiment,  in  the  Great  Cities  of  the  Kingdom  — His 
Eloquence  Rises  to  the  Very  C^rown  of  the  Occasion. — Superb  Exhibition  of  Forensic  Power  in  Liv- 
erpool.—He  Wrestles,  Single  Handed  and  Triumphantly,  for  Three  Hours,  with  a  Vast  and  Tumul- 
tuous Mob  in  that  City. — Reception  at  Exeter  Hall,  London. — Mr.  Beecher's  Tour  Undertaken  for  His 
Health.— Reaches  England,  Homeward  Bound.  —  Civil  Conflict  Raging  in  America — Mr.  Beecher 
Urged  to  Speak  on  United  States  Affairs.  —  Opening  Speech  in  Manchester. — Great  Au<lience  of 
Seven  Thousand. — Attempts  to  Silence  Him. — Powerlessness  of  the  Opposition  — Splendid  Qualities 
as  an  Orator  — Discussions  in  Glasgow  and  Edinburgh. — Battle  Waged  by  Mr.  Beecher  in  Liverpool. 
— Violent  KfTorts  to  Gag  Him.  —  A  Maddened  Sea  of  Insult.  —  Taunts,  Curses,  Hisses,  Fury. — 
Stampings,  Hootings,  Yellings. — Beecher's  Pluck,  and  Good  Humor. — He  Triumphs  Over  the  Wild 
Tempest  — A  Spectacle  Never  Before  Witnessed. — Grand  Closing  Scene  in  the  British  Capital. — 
Vast  and  Excited  Assembly. — He  Carries  the  House  by  Storm. — Plaudits  and  Congratulations. 


"  A  more  remarkable  embassy  than  any  envoy  who  has  represented  us  in  Europe  since  Franklin  pleaded  the  cause  of  the  young  Repub- 
ic  at  the  Court  of  VeroaiUes." — lua  "Atlaxtic  Monthlv." 


ECIDEDLY  the  most  memorable  oratorical  success  ever  achieved  by  an  Amer- 
ican citizen  abroad,  in  behalf  of  the  name  and  honor  of  his  country,  was  that 

by   the    Rev.   Henry  Ward    Beecher,   in   England 
during  the  great  conflict  of  arms  then  raging  in 
the  United   States.     Leaving  his  great  parish  in 
the    city  of  Brooklyn,  N.   Y.,  in   the    summer  of 
1863,  for  a  tour    in  Europe,  with  a   view   to  the 
restoration  of  his  health,  it  was  not  until  October 
following,  soon  after  reaching  England,  with  his  face  set 
homeward,  that  he  was  prevailed  upon  to  address  a  jjublic 
audience,  as  the  champion  of  the  American   Union,  and  de- 
fender of  the  national  government. 

Beginning  at  Manchester,  October  9th,  Mr.  Beecher  de- 
livered five  great  speeches  in  the  great  cities  of  the  king- 
dom—  Manchester,  Glasgow,  Edinburgh,  Liverpool,  and 
London, — each  speech  being  devoted  to  some  special  train  of 
thought  and  argument  bearing  upon  the  issues  involved  in 
the  momentous  contest ;  and  the  whole  series,  taken  together, 
did  more  for  the  Union  cause  in  Great  Britain  than  all  that 
had  before  been  said  or  written.  Possessing  the  faculty, 
beyond  any  other  American  orator,  of  combining  close, 
rapid,  powerful,  practical  reasoning,  with  intense  passion, — his  mind 
always  aglow  with  his  subject, — the  effect  of  Mr.  Beecher's  speaking 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


837 


is  to  kindle  sympathy,  even  if  it  does  not 
flash  conviction.  It  is  this  quality,  ac- 
cording to  the  opinion  of  those  who  are 
best  acquainted  witl;  ]Mr.  Boecher's  oratory, 
which,  combined  with  his  marvelous  power 
of  illustration  —  marvelous  alike  for  its 
intense  vividness  and  unerring  pertinency 
— and  his  great  flexibility,  whereby  he 
adapts  himself  completely  to  the  exigency 
of  the  instant,  gives  him  a  rare  command 
over  a  popular  assemblage. 

Free  Trade  Hall  was  the  place  selected 
for  !Mr.  Eeecher's  appearance  in  Man- 
chester. Though  capable  of  holding  seven 
thousand  persons,  the  hall  Avas  densely 
crowded,  and  the  speaker  received  a  wel- 
come such  as,  in  point  of  enthusiasm,  had 
rarely  fell  to  the  lot  of  any  other  man. 
On  this  occasion,  he  gave  a  history  of  that 
series  of  political  movements,  extending 
through  half  a  century,  the  logical  and 
inevitable  end  of  wdiich  was  open  conflict 
between  the  tw^o  opposing  forces  of  free- 
dom and  slavery.  There  were  in  the 
meeting  a  few  hundred  opponents  who 
frequently  interrupted  Mr.  Beecher,  but 
these  checks  only  served  to  show  how 
powerless  was  the  opposition,  and  how 
forcible  was  the  impression  made  by  the 
speaker.  His  pointed  remarks  were  fre- 
quently greeted  with  rounds  of  applause, 
and  when,  at  the  close  of  his  address,  he 
read  a  telegram  just  received  from  Liver- 
pool, that  the  "  broad  arrow  "  of  the  British 
government  had  that  day  been  placed  upon 
the  suspected  steam-rams  in  the  Mersey, 
the  enthusiasm  reached  its  climax.  The 
whole  audience  rose,  vociferously  cheering, 
and  waving  hats  and  handkerchiefs. 

Not  to  dwell  upon  the  scenes  character- 
izing Mr.  Beecher's  efforts  in  Glasgow. 
and  Edinburgh,  it  may  be  remarked  that, 
in  Liverpool,  he  waged  such  a  battle  with 
the  vast  and  tumultuous  throng  assembled 
there  to  gag  and  stifle  him,  as,  perhaps, 
no  other  public  speaker  in  the  world  could 
have  fought,  in  a  strange  land,  and  not 
been  utterly  vanquished.  He  here,  in  this 
great  center  of  commercial  and  manufac- 
turing interests,  labored  to  show  how 
those  interests  are  injured  by  slavery, — 


that  the  attempt  to  cover  the  fairest  por- 
tion of  the  earth  with  a  slave  population 
that  buys  nothing,  and  a  degraded  white 
population  that  buys  next  to  nothing, 
should  array  against  it  the  sympathy  of 
every  true  political  economist  and  every 
thoughtful  and  far-seeing  manufacturer,  as 
tending  to  strike  at  the  vital  want  of  com- 
merce, namelj',  not  the  want  of  cotton,  but 
the  want  of  customers.  Amidst  the  most 
violent  attempts  to  drown  his  voice  and 
shut  his  lips,  Mr.  Beecher  remained 
master  of  the  platform,  abundantly  prov- 
ing to  the  mob  the  truth  of  his  asser- 
tion, "  I  am  born  without  moral  fear.  I 
have  expressed  my  views  in  any  audience, 
and  it  never  cost  me  a  struggle.  I  never 
could  help  doing  it."  So,  too,  in  answer 
to  the  taunts  and  sarcasm  of  those  who 
wished  ill  to  the  Union  and  looked  with 
satisfaction  upon  the  evidences  of  its  ap- 
proaching dismemberment,  came  the  dec- 
laration : 

"  Standing  by  my  cradle,  standing  by 
my  hearth,  standing  by  the  altar  of  the 
church,  standing  by  all  the  places  that 
mark  the  name  and  memory  of  heroic  men 
who  poured  their  blood  and  lives  for  prin- 
ciple, I  declare  that  in  ten  or  twenty  years 
of  war  we  will  sacrifice  everything  we 
have  for  principle.  If  the  love  of  popular 
liberty  is  dead  in  Great  Britain,  you  will 
not  understand  us ;  but  if  the  love  of 
liberty  lives  as  it  once  lived,  and  has 
worthy  successors  of  those  renowned  men 
that  were  our  ancestors  as  much  as  yours, 
and  whose  example  and  principles  we 
inherit  to  make  fruitful  as  so  much  seed- 
corn  in  a  new  and  fertile  land,  then  j'ou 
will  understand  our  firm,  invincible  deter- 
mination— deep  as  the  sea,  firm  as  the 
mountains,  but  calm  as  the  heavens  above 
us — to  fight  this  war  through  at  all  hazards 
and  at  every  cost.  " 

Throughout  all  the  tumultuous  demon- 
strations on  the  part  of  his  Liverpool 
audience,  his  pluck  and  good  humor  never 
for  a  moment  forsook  him.  His  perfect 
self-possession,  his  readiness,  his  jovial 
wit,  gave  him  the  mastery  in  the  fearful 
odds    against    which    he   had    to    battle 


838 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Another  orator  might  have  withered  the 
mob  with  invective,  but  lie  conquered  them 
with  liumor.  He  turned  tlie  laugh  against 
them.  He  parried  their  blows,  and  at  the 
same  time  struck  home,  so  that  the  recoil 
made  them  wince  in  spite  of  their  bravado. 
It  was  a  grand  spectacle,  in  St.  George's 
Hall,  Liverpool,  when  he  struggled  for 
nearly  three  livelong  hours  against  that 
raging  sea  of  insult,  taunt,  iron}'',  imper- 
tinent questioning,  blackguardism,  curses, 
hisses,  cat-calls,  stampings,  hootings,  jell- 
ings — every  possible  manifestation  of  hate, 
every  possible  form  of  disorder  ;  but  this 
strong-winged  bird  of  the  storm  matched 
his  might  against  it — now  soaring  up  to 


In  the  course  of  this  great  and  exciting 
discussion,  the  orator  touched  upon  a  point 
or  question  frequently  asked  and  honestly 
entertained  by  those  not  acquainted  with 
the  structure  of  the  American  government. 
''  It  is  said,  '  Why  not  let  the  South  go  ?  ' 
[Hear,  hear,  and  cheers.]  *  Since  they 
won't  be  at  peace  with  you,  wh}'^  do  you 
not  let  them  separate  from  you  ?  '  Because 
they  would  be  less  peaceable  separated 
than  they  are  together.  [Hear,  hear.] 
Oh,  if  the  South  only  would  go !  [Laugh- 
ter.] The}"  are  determined  to  stay — that 
is  the  trouble.  [Hear,  hear.]  We  would 
furnish  free  passage  to  every  mother's  son. 
of  them,  if  they  would  go.     [Laughter.] 


RKV.   H.  W.   BEECHEK  DEFENDING   THE  AMEKICAN   UMON,  IN  EXETER  HALL,  LONDON. 


overcome  it — now  sinking  down  to  under- 
mine it — now  dashing  in  its  teeth — now 
half-choked  in  the  gust  of  its  fury,  but 
always  moving  onward,  and  in  the  end  rid- 
ing triumphant  on  the  very  crest  of  its 
wildest  billows.  There  was  not  a  more 
heroic  achievement  on  any  field  of  battle 
during  the  Great  American  Conflict,  than 
the  successful  delivery  of  Mr.  Beecher's 
speech  against  the  tempest  of  odds  which 
opposed  it.  This  is  the  testimony  which 
the  loyal  American  press  universally  bore 
to  the  value  of  Mr.  Beecher's  efforts  in 
vindicating  the  national  cause  80  courage- 
ously and  ably. 


But  we  say,  *  That  territor]/  is  ours  / ' 
[Cheers.]  Let  them  go,  and  leave  the 
nation  its  territory,  and  they  will  have  our 
unanimous  consent.  [Renewed  cheers.] 
But  I  do  not  wish  to  discuss  this  even  in 
in  this  ad  captamhun  way.  I  wish — 
because  this  seems  to  me  the  very  marrow 
of  the  matter — I  wish  to  ask  you  to  stand 
in  our  place  for  a  little  time,  and  see  this 
question  as  we  see  it,  then  afterwards 
make  up  your  judgment  as  you  think  best. 
[Hear,  hear.]  And  first,  this  war  began 
by  the  act  of  the  South — firing  at  that 
old  flag  that  had  covered  both  sections 
with    glory  and  protection.     [Applause.] 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


839 


(Some  gentleman  on  the  platform  here 
offered  Mr.  Beecher  a  glass  of  water.) 
No,  thank  you  (said  Mr.  Beecher)  ;  I 
■want  neitlier  water  nor  lozenges.  [Laugli- 
ter.]  Time,  patience,  and  my  own  good 
lungs,  will  make  me  heard.  I  expect  to 
be  hoarse  ;  I  am  w^illing  to  be  hoarse.  I 
think  that  if  I  might  but  bring  the  mother 
aad  the  daughter  heart  to  heart  and  hand 
to  hand  [loud  applause],  I  would  be  will- 
ing to  be  silent  for  a  twelvemonth  in  so 
good  a  work  as  that.  [Cheers.]  The  war 
began  under  circumstances  that  obliged 
the  North  to  join  issue  in  order  to  prevent 
actual   humiliation  and  subjugation. 

And  for  the  North  to  have  lain  down 
like  a  spaniel — to  have  given  up  the  terri- 
tory that  every  child  in  America  is  taught, 
as  every  child  in  Britain  is  taught,  to 
regard  as  his  sacred  right  and  his  trust — 
to  have  given  that  territory  up  without  a 
thought,  without  a  blow,  would  have 
marked  the  North  to  all  eternity  as  craven 
and  mean  beyond  expression."  [Loud 
cheers  and  some  hisses.] 

Equally  forcible  and  felicitous  was  the 
manner  in  which  Mr.  Beecher  met  his  oppo- 
nents on  another  point.  "  But  I  hear," 
said  Mr.  Beecher,  "  a  loud  protest  against 
war.  [Hear,  hear.]  Ladies  and  gentle- 
men, Mr.  Chairman  :  There  is  a  small 
band  in  our  country  and  in  3'ours — I  wish 
their  number  were  quadrupled — who  have 
borne  a  solemn  and  painful  testimony 
against  all  wars,  under  all  circumstances  ; 
and  although  I  differ  with  them  on  the 
subject  of  defensive  warfare,  j^et  when 
men  that  rebuked  their  own  land,  and  all 
lands,  now  rebuke  us,  though  I  cannot 
accept  their  judgment,  I  bow  with  pro- 
found respect  to  their  consistency.  [Hear, 
hear,  and  cheers.]  But  excepting  them, 
I  regard  this  British  horror  of  the  Ameri- 
can war  as  something  wonderful.  [Re- 
newed cheers  and  laughter.]  Why,  it  is 
a  phenomenon  in  itself  !  On  what  shore 
has  not  the  prow  of  your  ships  dashed  ? 
[Hear,  hear.]  What  land  is  there  with  a 
name  and  a  people  where  your  banner 
has  not  led  your  soldiers  ?  [Hear, 
hear.]     And  when  the  great  resurrection 


reveille  shall  sound,  it  will  muster  British 
soldiers  from  every  clime  and  people  under 
the  whole  heaven.  [Cheers.]  Ah,  but  it 
is  said  this  is  a  war  against  your  own 
blood.  [Hear,  hear.]  How  long  is  it 
since  you  poured  soldiers  into  Canada,  and 
let  all  your  yards  work  night  and  day  to 
avenge  the  taking  of  two  men  out  of  the 
Trent?  [Loud  applause.]  Old  England 
shocked  at  a  war  of  principle  !  She  gained 
her  glories  in  such  a  w^ar.  [Cheers.] 
Old  England  ashamed  of  a  war  of  princi- 
ple !  Her  national  ensign  symbolizes 
her  history  —  the  ci'oss  in  a  field  of 
blood.  [Cheers.]  And  will  ijou  tell  us — 
who  inherit  your  blood,  your  ideas,  and 
your  pluck  [cheers] — that  we  must  not 
fight  ?  "     [Cheers.] 

Exeter  Hall,  London,  was  the  scene  of 
Mr.  Beecher's  last  and,  perhaps,  greatest 
oratorical  effort,  in  defense  of  the  Ameri- 
can Union — the  undivided  nationality  of 
the  American  Republic.  This  speech  was 
delivered  under  the  auspices  of  the  Eman- 
cipation Society,  October  20th,  and  the 
meeting  was  one  of  the  most  enthusiastic 
ever  held  in  the  English  metropolis.  The 
admission  was  by  tickets,  the  lowest 
charge  for  which  was  one  shilling,  and  for 
the  reserved  seats,  of  w'hich  there  were 
four  hundred,  the  charge  was  two  shillings 
and  sixpence.  More  than  an  hour  before 
the  time  for  the  proceedings  to  commence, 
the  main  entrance  in  the  Strand  was 
besieged  by  crowds  of  persons  anxious  to 
obtain  egress,  and,  soon  after  the  doers 
were  opened,  the  vast  hall  was  filled  to 
suffocation,  and  thousands  were  outside 
seeking  but  unable  to  obtain  admission. 

Outside,  the  scene  was  of  a  most  extraor- 
dinary description.  The  speech,  as  adver- 
tised, was  to  begin  at  seven  o'clock,  and  it 
w^as  announced  that  the  doors  would  be 
opened  at  half-past  six.  The  crowd,  how- 
ever, began  to  assemble  as  early  as  five 
o'clock,  and,  before  six,  it  became  so  dense 
and  numerous,  as  completely  to  block  up 
not  only  the  footway  but  the  carriage-way 
of  the  Strand,  and  the  committee  of  man- 
agement determined,  therefore,  to  throw 
open  the  doors   at  once.     The  rush  that 


840 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


took  place  was  of  the  most  tremendous 
character,  and  the  hall,  in  every  available 
part,  became  filled  to  overflowing,  in  a 
few  minutes.  But,  notwithstanding  this, 
no  perceptible  diminution  was  made  in  the 
crowd  outside,  and,  at  half-past  six,  there 
were  thousands  of  well-dressed  persons 
struggling  to  get  in,  despite  the  placards 
exhibited,  announcing  the  hall  to  be 
"quite  full." 

The  policemen  and  hall-keepers  were 
powerless  to  contend  against  this  immense 
crowd,  who  ultimately  filled  the  spacious 
corridors  and  staircases  leading  to  the  hall, 
still  leaving  a  prodigious  multitude  both 
in  the  Strand  and  Burleigh  street.  At  ten 
minutes  before  seven  o'clock,  Mr.  Scott, 
the  city  chamberlain,  and  the  chairman  of 
the  meeting,  accompanied  by  a  large  body 
of  the  committee  of  the  Emancipation 
Society,  arrived,  but  were  unable  to  make 
their  way  through  the  crowd,  and  a  mes- 
senger was  dispatched  to  the  Bow  street 
police  station,  for  an  extra  body  of  police. 
About  thirty  of  the  reserve  men  were 
immediately  sent,  and  these,  aided  by  the 
men  already  on  duty,  at  last  succeeded  in 
forcing  a  passage  for  the  chairman  and  his 
friends.  Mr.  Beecher  at  this  time  arrived, 
but  was  himself  unable  to  gain  admit- 
tance to  the  hall  until  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
after  the  time  appointed  for  the  commence- 
ment of  his  address.  The  reverend  gen- 
tleman bore  his  detention  in  the  crowd 
with  great  good  humor,  and  was  received 
with  a  perfect  ovation,  the  crowd  pressing 
forward  in  all  directions  to  shake  hands 
with  him.  He  ions  at  last  fairly  carried 
into  the  hall  on  the  shoulders  of  thej)olicc- 
men,  and  the  doors  of  the  hall  were  at 
once  closed  and  guarded  by  a  body  of 
police,  who  distinctly  announced  that  no 
more  persons  would  be  admitted,  whetlier 
holding  tickets  or  not.  This  had  the  effect 
of  thinning  to  some  extent  the  throng  out- 
side, but  thousands  yet  remained  there, 
eager  to  seize  any  chance  for  admission 
that  arose. 

At  a  quarter-past  seven  o'clock,  a  tre- 
mendous burst  of  cheering  from  within 
the  building,  plainly  proclaimed  that  Mr. 


Beecher  had  made  his  appearance  on  the 
platform.  The  cheering  w'as  taken  up  by 
the  outsiders,  and  re-echoed  again  and 
again.  The  bulk  of  the  crowd  had  now 
congregated  in  Burleigh  street,  which  was 
completely  filled,  and  loud  cries  were  raised 
for  some  members  of  the  emancipation 
committee  to  address  them,  but  the  call 
was  not  responded  to.  Several  impromptu 
speakers,  mounted  upon  the  shoulders  of 
some  workingmen  and  addressed  the  peo- 
ple in  favor  of  the  policy  of  the  federal 
government,  their  remarks  being  received 
with  loud  cheering  from  the  large  majority 
of  those  present. 

One  or  two  speakers  raised  their  voices 
in  opposition  to  the  views  which  had  been 
advocated  by  ]\Ir.  Beecher,  but  they  were 
speedily  dislodged  from  their  position  by 
the  mass  of  the  crowd,  whose  sympathies 
were  thus  unmistakably  exhibited.  Every 
burst  of  cheering  that  resounded  from 
within  the  hall  was  taken  up  and  as 
heartily  responded  to  by  those  outside. 
This  scene  continued  without  intermission, 
until  the  close  of  the  meeting.  A^  hen 
]\Ir.  Beecher  and  his  friends  issued  from 
the  hall,  thoj'  Avere  again  received  with 
loud  cheers  ;  and,  a  call  being  made  for  a 
cheer  for  Abraham  Lincoln,  a  response 
went  up  from  thousands  of  voices,  like  the 
noise  of  many  waters,  deeji  answering  unto 
deep.  A  strong  body  of  j)olice  were  sta- 
tioned in  the  Strand  and  Burleigh  street, 
but  no  breach  of  the  peace  occurred  calling 
for  their  interference. 

In  this  London  speech,  Mr.  Beecher 
gave  a  j^^ssing  resvme  of  his  discussions 
of  the  American  question  during  the  last 
few  weeks  ;  At  Miinchester,  he  attempted 
to  give  the  history  of  the  external  polit- 
ical movements  for  fifty  years  past,  so  far 
as  was  necessary  to  elucidate  the  fact  that 
the  war  was  only  an  overt  form  of  the  con- 
test between  liberty  and  slavery  which  had 
been  going  on  politically  for  half  a  cen- 
tury. At  Glasgow,  he  undertook  to  show 
that  the  condition  of  work  and  labor  ne- 
cessitated by  any  profitable  system  of 
slavery  was,  that  it  brought  labor  into 
contempt,  affixing  to  it  the  badge  of  deg- 


GREAT  A^D  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


841 


radation,  and  that  tlie  struggle  to  ex- 
tend servile  labor  across  the  American 
continent  interested  every  fi-ee  working- 
man  on  the  face  of  the  globe — the  southern 
cause  being  the  natural  enemy  of  free 
labor  and  the  laborer  all  over  the  world. 
In  Edinburgh,  he  endeavored  to  sketch 
how,  out  of  separate  colonies  and  states, 
intensely  jealous  of  their  individual  sover- 
eignty, there  grew  up  a  nation,  and  how 
in  that  nation  of  the  United  States  there 
grew  up  two  distinct  and  antagonistic 
systems  of  development,  striving  for  the 
possession  of  government  and  for  the  con- 
trol of  the  national  policy,  in  which  the 
north  gained  the  control,  and  that  the 
south  joined  the  Union  simply  and  only 
because  it  believed  the  government  would 
be  in  the  hands  of  men  who  would  give 
their  whole  influence  against  the  cause  of 
freedom.  In  Liverpool,  he  labored  to 
show  that  slavery  was,  in  the  long  run, 
hostile  to  commerce  and  manufactures  all 
the  world  over,  as  it  was  to  every  other 
interest  of  human  society  ;  that  a  slave 
nation  must  be  a  poor  customer,  buying 
the  smallest  quantity  and  the  pooi'est 
goods,  at  the  lowest  profit,  and  that  the 
interest  of  every  manufacturing  nation 
was  to  promote  freedom,  intelligence,  and 
wealth,  among  all  nations  ;  and  that  the 
attempt  to  cover  the  fairest  portion  of  the 
earth  with  a  slave  population  which  buys 
nothing,  and  a  degraded  white  population 
which  buys  next  to  nothing,  should  array 
every  political  economist,  every  far-seeing 
manufacturer,  against  it,  as  striking  at  the 
vital  interest  of  the  manufacturer,  not  by 
want  of  cotton,  but  by  want  of  customers. 
From  beginning  to  ending,  the  orator's 
address  was  a  clear,  forcible,  and  thoroughly 
earnest  exposition  of  the  principles  under- 
lying the  great  conflict,  the  course  of 
policy  that  led  to  it,  and  the  tremendous 
issues  at  stake  in  its  decision.  Many  of 
the  points  specially  dwelt  upon — such  as 
the  legal  position  of  slavery  in  the  South 
under  the  constitution,  as  a  state  and  not 
a  Union  question,  a  matter  of  local  juris- 
diction, with  which  the  national  govern- 
ment had  nothing  to  do — were   presented 


by  Mr.  Beechor  with  such  happy  illustra- 
tions, accurate  logii;,  and  fervent  zeal,  as  to 
render  them  more  broadly  intelligible  to 
the  jiopular  mind  than  ever  they  had  been 
made  before,  and  showed  the  orator  to  be 
not  onlj'  a  practiced  and  powerful  speaker, 
but  remarkably  skilled  in  the  management 
of  large  audiences,  so  that,  by  a  happy 
mixture  of  sterling  sense,  good  humor,  and 
downright  earnestness,  combined  with  a 
rare  talent  for  effective  retort,  he  suc- 
ceeded in  carrying  his  entire  audience,  foes 
as  well  as  friends,  along  with  him. 

As  an  instance  of  the  speaker's  last 
named  faculty,  nothing  could  be  more 
apposite  than  his  plump  and  dexterous 
retort  to  an  indignation  cry  from  someone 
in  the  audience  about  the  feting  of  the 
Russian  naval  officers  at  New  York, — Mr. 
Beecher's  sarcasm  at  the  attentions  paid 
by  the  English  to  Mr.  Mason,  the  southern 
commissioner,  being  in  his  best  vein.  "A 
gentleman  asks  me,"  said  Mr.  Beecher, 
"  to  say  a  word  about  the  Russians. 
[Hear,  hear.]  Well,  what  about  the 
Russians  in  New  York  harbor  ?  [Cheers.] 
The  fact  is,  that  that  is  a  little  piece  of 
coquetry.  Don't  you  know  that  when  a 
woman  thinks  her  suitor  is  not  attentive 
enough,  she  picks  out  another,  and  flirts 
with  him  in  her  lover's  face  ?  "Well, 
New  York  is  in  the  same  way  flirting  with 
Russia  at  this  moment,  but  she  has  her 
eye  on  Russia,  3'ou  may  depend.  [Hear.] 
When  I  hear  men  say,  this  is  a  piece  of 
national  folly,  which  is  not  becoming  in  a 
people  reputed  wise  and  under  the  solemn 
circumstances  in  which  America  is  now 
placed  ;  when  I  hear  it  said,  that  while 
Russia  is  actually  engaged  in  treading 
down  the  liberties  of  Poland — [Hear, 
hear,] — it  is  not  even  decent  of  a  free 
country  like  the  Northern  States  of  Amer- 
ica to  make  believe  to  flirt  with  her 
—[Hear,  hear,  and  "  That  is  true,"]— 
well,  I  think  so  too,  and  now  you  know 
how  we  fdt  tvhen  you  flirted  with  3Iason 
at  your  Lord  Mayor''s  banquet  !  " 

Mr.  Beecher's  justification  of  the  presi- 
dent's proclamation  of  emancipation,  as  at 
once  a  war  necessity  and  a  philanthropic 


842 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


act,  told  with  admirable  effect  upon  his 
hearers.  He  said:  "The  great  conflict 
between  the  north  and  the  south  when  we 
began  this  war  was,  which  should  control 
the  government  of  the  territories — slave 
institutions,  or  free  institutions.  That 
was  the  conflict.  It  was  not  emancipation 
or  no  emancipation — the  government  had 
no  business  with  the  question.  The  only 
thing  the  government  could  join  issue  on 
was,  shall  the  national  policy  be  free  or 
slave.  ...  It  was  for  this  the  north 
went  to  war.  It  produced  emancipation  ; 
but  she  went  to  war  to  save  national  insti- 
tutions, to  save  territories,  to  save  those 
laws  wliich,  if  allowed  to  act  through  a 
series  of  years,  would  infallibly  first  cir- 
cumscribe, then  suffocate,  and  finally  de- 
stroy   slavery.     This   is    the    reason  why 


MR.   BEECIIER'S  church,   BROOKLYN,  ^EW    YORK. 

that  truly  honest,  just,  and  conscientious 
magistrate,  Mr.  Lincoln — [the  remainder 
of  the  sentence  was  lost  amid  tumultuous 
cheering,  the  people  rising  and  waving 
their  liats].  How  did  the  matter  pass  to 
a  conflict  with  the  south,  in  place  of  a 
direct  attack  upon  the  institution  of 
slavery  itself  ?  Because,  in  an  ill  advised 
hour,  according  to  the  foreshadowing  of  the 
wisest  men  of  the  south,  they  mixed  the 
national  government  and  nation.'il  life  with 
the  institution  of  slavery,  and  obliged  the 
people  and  obliged  the  president,  who  was 
under  oath  to  defend  the  constitution  and 
the  national  government,  to  take  their 
choice  between  the  safety  of  the  life  of  the 
government  itself  and  slavery.     We  were 


content  to  wait  the  issue,  as  one  of  policy, 
but  when  they  threw  drown  the  gauntlet, 
and  said  that  slavery  shall  be  established 
and  extended,  we  could  not  do  any  other- 
wise than  accept  the  challenge.  [Cheers.] 
The  police  have  no  right  to  interfere  with 
you  so  long  as  you  keep  the  law,  but  when 
you  violate  the  law  they  have  a  right. 
And  so  in  constitutional  government,  it 
has  no  right  to  attack  slavery  when  slavery 
is  merely  a  state  institution ;  but  when 
that  state  institution  comes  out  of  its  own 
limits  and  attacks  other  states,  it  becomes 
a  national  enemy.  [Cheers.]  But  it  is 
said  the  president  issued  his  proclamation 
for  political  effect,  and  not  from  humanity. 
[Hear,  hear.]  Why,  the  act  of  issuing 
the  proclamation  was  political,  but  the 
disposition  to  do  it  was  not.  [Cheers.] 
Mr.  Lincoln  is  an  officer  of  the  state,  and 
in  the  presidential  chair  has  no  more  right 
to  follow  his  private  feelings,  than  any 
one  of  your  judges  has  a  right  to  follow  his 
private  feelings  on  the  bench.  A  judge  is 
bound  to  administer  the  law,  but  when  he 
sees  that  a  rigid  administration  of  the  law 
goes  with  purity  of  justice,  with  human- 
ity, and  with  pity,  he  is  all  the  more  glad, 
because  his  private  feelings  go  with  his 
public  duties." 

But  the  most  striking  and  important 
parts  of  Mr.  Beechcr's  address  were  his 
noble  and  earnest  efforts  to  promote,  to  the 
utmost  of  his  ability,  that  supremo  inter- 
national object  of  his  oratorical  efforts — a 
good  understanding  between  England  and 
America,  in  which  all  the  higher  interests 
of  civilization,  freedom,  and  progress,  are 
so  directly  involved.  In  discussing  this 
great  and  vital  question,  he  rose  to  a  pitch 
of  moral  enthusiasm  and  elevation  which 
— stranger,  as  he  was,  in  the  midst  of  his 
country's  reputed  enemies,  and  stnnding, 
as  he  did,  the  solitary  s[)okesman  for  that 
country,  in  the  presence  of  a  surging  and 
excited  multitude — presented  a  spectacle 
of  moral  and  forensic  sublimity,  rarely 
witnessed  in  any  country. 

As  the  sequel  of  his  series  of  public 
addresses  in  the  various  cities  of  the  king- 
dom,  this  at   London   completed  the  dis- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


843 


ciission  of  the  ^^•holo  round  of  points  in 
American  affairs  wliicli  the  British  fount! 
it  most  (litficult  to  understand.  That  the 
address  excited  a  prodigious  degree  of 
attention  in  Great  Britain  was  evident  on 
all  sides.  Its  great  effectiveness  con- 
sisted in  its  being  an  American's  present- 
ation of  tlie  American  question,  and  never 
before  did  an  orator  make  such  triumph- 
ant use  o^  his  opportunity.  There  had 
been  symptoms  of  an  attempt  to  pack  the 
meeting — if  possible  to  till  the  hall  with 
an  opposition  which  should  prevent  a 
hearing  for  the  speaker,  or  at  least  disturb 


him  by  unmannerly  interruptions  as  at 
Liverpool.  To  this  end,  the  walls  of  the 
city  were  placarded  with  enormous  posters, 
designed  to  excite  ill  feeling  against  Mr. 
Beecher,  and  hand-bills  of  a  similar  char- 
acter were  distributed  to  all  who  entered 
the  hall.  But  all  such  effort  to  disparage 
the  speaker  with  his  audience  was  entirely 
overwhelmed,  chiefly  by  the  hearty  enthu- 
siasm with  which  he  was  greeted  by  the 
great  majority,  while  his  good  nature,  fine 
tact,  resoluteness,  and  easy  address,  quite 
conquered  the  remaining  malcontents  and 
reduced  them  to  silence. 


XCYIII. 

ERECTION"  AND  INAUGURATION  OF  THE  GREAT  ORGAN 
IN  THE  BOSTON  MUSIC   HALL.— 1863. 


Most  Majestic  and  Perfect  Instrument  of  the  Kind  in  America. — Almost  Without  an  Equal  in  the 
Whole  World. — Height,  Sixty  Feet;  Width,  Forty-eight  Feet;  Depth,  Twenty-four  Feet;  Weight, 
Seventy  Tons  ;  Cost,  $60,000. — Its  Vast  and  Enchanting  Harmonies  and  Wondrous  Frame  of  Archi- 
tectural Beauty. — The  Masterpiece  of  Musical  Art  — Origin  of  the  Enterprise. — Dr  Upham's  Grand 
Conception. — Full  Powers  Conferred  Upon  Him. — His  Seven  Years'  Labor  and  Care. — America  and 
Europe  Explored. — A  Colossal  Instrument  Decided  On. — Object  and  Influence  of  Such. — Contract 
for  Its  Construction  in  Germany. — Unrivaled  Mechanism  of  the  Work. — Completed,  and  Shipped 
for  Boston — Three  Months'  Tempestuous  Voyage — Enshrinement  of  the  Organ  in  a  Case. — Its 
Towers,  Domes,  and  Sculptures. — Wind  Pipes,  Thirty-two  Feet  Long. — Eighty-nine  Full  Registers. 
— Total  Number  of  Pipes,  Five  Thousand  Four  Hundred  and  Seventy-four. — Capacity  of  the  Organ, 
Six  Thousand  Voices. — Ease  with  which  it  is  Performed  — Marvelous  Lights  and  Shades  of  Tone. — 
First  Exposition  to  the  Public. — Enthusiasm  and  Joy  on  the  Occasion. — Music,  Poetry,  Art,  Beauty. 


* Loud  was  the  peal :  so  loud 

As  would  have  quite  o'erwhelnied  the  human  eenBCS 

But  80011  it  came  n  genile.  lieav^-nly  s-tiain, 
Like  sotleec  uote  breathed  from  .iSolian  lute." 


STATUE  OP  BKETHOVEN,  IJf  BOSTON. 


ELIGHTFUL  and  self-gratulatory  as  were  the  sensations 
with  which  the  citizens  of  the  metropolis  of  New 
England  justly  contemplated  the  completion  of  their 
incomparable  Music  Hall,  the  enthusiasm  of  their  satis- 
faction was  intensified  to  the  highest  degree  when,  in 
November,  1863,  there  was  added  to  the  attractions  of 
that  magnificent  edifice,  and  of  the  city  itself  as  well, 
the  mightiest  and  most  superb  organ  on  the  American 
continent,  and  equaled  in  its  vast  dimensions  and  won- 
derful musical  capacity  by  only  two  or  three  in  the 
whole  world. 

The  acquisition  of  this  great  instrument — so  much 
the  object  of  pride  and  enjoj'ment  on  the  part  rf  Boston- 
ians,  and  scarcely  less  on  the  part  of  all  lovers  of  the 
divine  art  of  music,  who  have  come  in  throngs  from  every 
part  of  the  Union,  to  witness  its  form  of  beauty  and 
listen  to  its  marvelous  sounds  of  enchantment, — is  due 
to  the  large  conception  of  Dr.  J.  Baxter  Upham,  for 
man}'  years  the  accomplished  president  of  the  IMusic 
Hall  Association.  From  his  deej)  thought,  comprehen- 
sive plans,  severe  labor,  and  constant  care,  came  forth 
this  splendid  embodiment  of  musical  science  and  artistic 
construction. 


GREAT  AND  IMEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


845 


At  an  early  period  in  tlie  history  of  the 
association,  (the  official  report  of  the 
enterprise  is  here  followed,)  a  committee 
was  appointed  for  the  study  and  investi- 
gation of  all  matters  relating  to  the  fu- 
ture procurement  of  an  appropriate  in- 
strument for  the  hall.  After  a  sufficient 
time  spent  in  understanding  the  theory 
and  philosophy  of  the  subject,  the  com- 
mittee betook  themselves  to  more  practi- 
cal inquiries,  by  a  personal  examination 
of  the  best  productions  to  be  found  in 
this  department  of  mechanical  and  artistic 
achievement,  in  different  sections.  But 
no  one  state,  or  country,  or  continent, 
could  furnish  the  sum  of  that  knowledge 
which  was  requisite  for  the  full  under- 
standing of  the  matter,  and  the  bringing 
to  pass  of  that  perfection  of  results  at 
which  they  aimed.  In  the  summer  and 
autumn  of  1853,  the  committee  extended 
their  researches  in  Great  Britain,  France, 
Switzerland,  and  Germany,  collecting  such 
written  works  and  specimens  of  mechani- 
cal structure  in  the  niceties  of  the  art,  as 
they  could  obtain  in  the  countries  visited. 
On  their  return,  the  facts  and  experiences 
in  the  art  of  organ-building  thus  gained 
were  compared,  patiently  and  candidlj^, 
with  the  conditions  that  obtained  at  home, 
and,  without  any  disparagement  of  the 
skill  and  ingenuity  of  American  manufac- 
turers, the  committee  concluded  that  the 
vantage  ground  lay  unmistakably  in  the 
acquisitions  which  the  accumulated  experi- 
ence of  centuries  had  given  to  the  handi- 
craft of  the  old  world. 

After  the  subject  had  been  considered 
and  discussed  at  various  meetings  held 
from  time  to  time,  a  subscription  paper 
was  directed  to  be  opened,  it  being  pro- 
posed thereby  to  obtain  an  organ  of  the 
first  class,  one  that  should  rival  in  power, 
in  magnitude,  and  in  excellence,  the  most 
famous  instruments  of  Europe, — those 
which  have  for  so  many  years  excited  the 
wonder  and  admiration  of  travelers  on 
that  continent.  "Just  such  an  instru- 
ment," says  the  official  report  of  the  direc- 
tors, "  the  capacity  of  our  hall  allows  and 
requires.     Without  it,  its  beautiful  archi- 


tecture will  always  be  incomplete,  and  its 
acoustic  qualities  fail  to  reach  their  full 
perfection.  Of  the  influence  of  such  an 
instrument  upon  the  Association,  the  value 
can  hardly  be  estimated.  It  would  place 
this  hall  at  once,  in  point  of  attraction, 
immeasurably  above  that  of  any  other 
institution  of  the  kind  in  the  land ;  and 
every  year,  and  at  all  seasons  of  the  year, 
we  see  no  reason  to  doubt,  would  draw  as 
many  pilgrims  to  its  shrine  as  do  the 
world-renowned  organs  at  Haarlem,  at 
Hamburg,  at  Ulm,  and  in  the  Church  of 
St.  Nicholas  at  Freyburg.  To  the  city 
and  to  New  England  it  would  be  an  object 
of  just  pride,  and  to  the  public  would 
prove  a  source  of  the  purest  enjoyment,  an 
inculcator  of  a  taste  for  music  in  its  high- 
est and  holiest  forms,  for  man}^  generations 
to  come.  And  in  the  consideration  of  a 
matter  so  important,  it  seems  particularly 
desirable  to  set  our  standard  of  excellence 
high, — to  be  satisfied  with  nothing  infe- 
rior to  tlie  greatest  and  the  best,  since  w'e 
are  providing  for  a  work  that  shall  stand, 
it  is  to  be  hoped,  not  for  decades  only,  but 
for  centuries  of  years."  The  cost  of  such 
an  instrument  was  estimated  at  twenty- 
five  thousand  dollars,  but  the  total  expen- 
diture proved  in  the  end  to  be  only  a  little 
short  of  sixt}^  thousand. 

The  next  step  taken  by  the  directors 
was  to  delegate  Doctor  Upham,  as  chair- 
man of  the  organ  committee,  to  proceed  to 
Europe  and  complete  the  investigation  of 
the  subject,  make  choice  of  a  builder,  and 
execute  a  contract.  To  this  end,  that 
eminent  gentleman  critically  examined  the 
principal  organs  and  organ  factories  in 
Great  Britain,  Holland,  Belgium,  France, 
and  Germany;  and,  finally,  Herr  E.  Fr. 
Walcker,  of  Ludwigsburg,  in  Germany, — 
a  name  long  famous  in  the  annals  of  organ- 
building  throughout  the  continent  of  Eu- 
rope, and  whose  recent  colossal  structures 
at  Stuttgard  and  in  the  cathedral  at  Ulm 
had  given  to  him  a  world-wide  reputation, 
— was  selected  as  the  builder.  The  con- 
tract was  a  document  covering  forty  pages 
of  manuscript. 

An  emphatic  condition  of  this  contract 


846 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


was  that  the  character  of  the  construction 
of  the  instrument  should  represent  all  the 
resources  and  jiossibilities  of  the  art  up  to 
the  time  of  its  completion,  and  this  was 
strictly  fulfilled.  The  brilliant  trumpets 
in  the  swell,  for  instance,  are  fashioned 
like  orchestral  trumpets  of  brass,  and  jjol- 
ished  and  burnished  with  the  greatest 
care,  although  hidden  forever  from  view. 
Its  bassoons  and  oboes  are  tuned  and 
voiced  in  strictest  imitation  of  the  instru- 
ments of  their  kind.     Its  traverse  flute  is 


and  the  difficulties  arising  from  sudden 
atmospheric  changes  are  almost  wholly 
counteracted.  The  swell  organ  includes 
within  its  walls  a  portion  of  the  pedal,  and 
is  an  instrument  complete  in  itself. 
Added  to  this  is  an  apparatus  attached  to 
some  of  the  individual  stops,  by  which  to 
effect  the  increase  or  diminution  of  the 
sound  at  pleasure  ;  besides  all  which  is  the 
grand  crescendo  and  diminuendo  to  the 
whole  work.  By  means,  also,  of  an  exten- 
sive  application  of  the  pneumatic  lever. 


THE  GREAT  ORGAN  IN  BOSTON  MUSIC  HALL. 


of  choice  wood,  in  shape  like  actual  flutes, 
turned  and  varnished,  and  fitted  with  em- 
bouchures of  brass ;  its  concert  flute,  too, 
is  of  wood,  of  choicest  selection  and  finest 
grain.  So,  likewise,  with  the  accessory 
parts  of  the  instnmient ;  the  wind-<diests 
are  constructed  after  a  new  and  admirable 
invention  of  the  builder,  by  which  the 
faults  that,  under  the  common  system  of 
sliders,  have  been  for  centuries  justly  com- 
j)lained  of  in  the  best  works,  are  avoided, 


lightness  is  given  to  the  touch  ;  and  by  a 
combination  of  ingenious  contrivances,  the 
whole  resources  of  the  instrument  are 
brought  within  easy  reach  and  control  of 
the  player. 

On  the  completion  of  the  instrument,  its 
qualities  were  tested  at  the  factory,  in 
presence  of  the  most  competent  and  criti- 
cal judges  that  could  be  found  in  England 
and  on  the  continent,  .and  pronounced 
incomparable;  and  in  due  time,  namely, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


847 


in  Decem"ber,  1862,  tlie  great  work  was 
slii[)i)ed  on  board  the  Dutch  brig  I'resto, 
for  Boston,  at  whicli  place  she  arrived  after 
a  tempestuous  and  perilous  winter's  voyage 
of  three  months. 

No  slight  task  presented  itself  in  deter- 
mining what  should  be  the  architectural 
form  and  enshrinement  of  the  instrument, 
and  it  was  only  after  years  of  patient  effort 
and  trial  that  the  present  wondrous  frame 
of  beauty  for  the  noble  instrument  was 
obtained.  The  gem  of  the  structure  is  a 
design  by  Hammatt  Billings.  But  the 
finally  adopted  plan,  in  its  artistic  and 
elaborate  beauty  and  grandeur,  belongs  to 
the  brothers  Gustave  and  Christian  Herter, 
of  New  York,  and  the  character  of  the 
work  executed  by  them  has  justly  immor- 
talized their  name  in  this  sublime  enter- 
prise. 

This  great  organ  has  been  fitly  described 
as  being  a  choir  of  nearly  six  thousand 
throats.  Its  largest  wind  pipes  are  thirty- 
two  feet  in  length,  and  a  man  can  crawl 
through  them.  Its  finest  tubes  are  too 
small  for  a  baby's  whistle.  The  instru- 
ment may  fairly  be  said  to  consist  of  fi\e 
distinct  organs,  or  systems  of  pipes,  which 
are  capable  of  being  played  on  alone,  or  in 
connection  with  each  other.  Four  of  these 
are  played  upon  by  manuals  or  hand  key- 
boards and  the  other  by  pedals  or  a  foot 
key-board.  The  lowest  of  the  former  con- 
trols the  swell  organ,  the  pipes  of  which, 
as  in  other  instruments,  are  enclosed  in  a 
box. — in  this  case,  itself  as  large  as  many 
complete  organs, — and  so  arranged  that  it 
may  be  open  or  perfectly  tight  at  the  will 
of  the  performer,  thus  giving  opportunity 
for  light  and  shade  in  endless  variety. 
This  organ  contains  eighteen  registers,  or 
stops,  with  which  are  drawn  on  or  shut  off 
an  equal  number  of  ranks  or  series  of 
pipes,  all  of  which,  or  any  of  them  sepa- 
rately or  in  combination,  may  be  made  to 
speak  through  the  swell  manual.  Next 
above  this  is  placed  the  key-board  of  the 
'great  organ,'  as  it  is  technically  called. 
Here  there  are  twenty-five  registers,  all  of 
which  connect  with  pipes  on  a  large  scale, 
and  are   the  loudest  voiced  pii)es  in   the 


wliole  organ.  Here  are  tlie  grand  diapa- 
sons which  form  the  foundation  of  the 
whole  sound  superstructure,  and  the  im- 
mense trumpets  and  clarions  wliich  ring 
out  like  a  call  to  battle.  Above  the  great 
organ  manual  comes  that  of  the  choir 
organ,  which  has  fifteen  registers,  and  is 
in  many  respects  the  'great  organ'  on  a 
softer  scale,  but  without  the  harsher  reed 
stops.  The  last  and  upper  manual  belongs 
to  the  solo  organ,  which  also  answers  for 
the  echo  organ,  containing  eleven  stops, 
and  among  them  the  famous  vox  humana. 
The  pedals  are  the  only  remaining  key- 
board, and  in  connection  with  them  are 
twenty  distinct  stops,  fifteen  loud  and  the 
rest  soft.  The  total  number  of  speaking 
stops  is  eighty-nine,  which  may  all  be 
combined ;  and  the  grand  total  of  pipes  is 
five  thousand  four  hundred  and  seventy- 
four.  The  breath  to  these  pipes  Avas  at 
first  furnished  by  twelve  pairs  of  bellows, 
moved  by  water-power  derived  from  the 
city  reservoirs,  —  steam,  however,  being 
subsequently  used  for  this  purpose. 

Not  only  is  this  wonderful  instrument 
different  from  others  in  size  and  w^onder- 
ful  variety  of  stops,  but  it  excels  them  in 
almost  every  detail  that  can  be  mentioned. 
The  dip  of  the  kej's  of  ordinary  organs  is 
three-eighths,  or  at  most  three-eighths  and 
a  six';eentli  of  an  inch,  while  the  keys  of 
this  organ  dip  no  less  than  five-eighths  of 
an  inch.  But  the  difficulties  which  would 
arise  from  such  a  vast  amount  of  mechan- 
ism connecting  with  the  keys,  asking  of 
an  organist's  finger  the  strength  of  a 
blacksmith's  arm,  are  overcome  with  ease 
by  the  delicate  pneumatic  action  which  is 
provided.  The  arrangement  of  the  stops 
is  controlled  to  a  great  extent  by  the  feet, 
there  being  twelve  separate  pedals  for  this 
purpose,  so  that  the  most  beautiful  and 
changeful  effects  can  be  made  without 
removing  either  hand  from  the  key-board. 
There  is  also  the  pedal,  already  alluded  to, 
by  which  all  the  stops  of  the  organ  may  be 
gradually,  one  by  one,  or  instantaneously, 
drawn  on  or  shut  off,  thus  producing  the 
most  magnificent  crescendo  and  diminu- 
endo, as  well  as  explosive  effects.     Thus  a 


848 


OUE  FIEST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


tone  which  is  scarcely  heard  at  first  can  be 
augmented  by  degrees  until  it  makes  the 
air  quiver  with  its  thunders,  and  then 
slowly  sink  again  to  hushed  repose. 

This  great  instrument  is  placed  upon  a 
low  platform,  the  outlines  of  which  are  in 
accordance  with  its  own.  Whole  height 
of  the  organ,  about  sixty  feet ;  breadth, 
forty-eight  feet;  average  depth,  twenty- 
four  feet ;  weight,  sixty  to  seventy  tons. 
The  beauty  of  its  exterior  is  such  as  to 
call  forth  the  highest  enthusiasm  of  the 
beholder.  Doctor  Holmes,  in  an  article  such 
as,  perhaps,  no  other  pen  could  produce,  says 
of  it :  ''  The  structure  is  of  black  walnut, 
and  is  covered  with  carved  statues,  busts, 
masks,  and  figures,  in  the  boldest  relief. 
In  the  center,  a  richly  ornamented  arch 
contains  the  niche  for  the  key-boards  and 


colossal    mask    of    a    singing 


GENIUS  OF  MUSIC  AND  ART. 

stops.     A 

woman  looks  from  over  its  summit.  The 
pediment  above  is  surmounted  b}^  the  bust 
of  Johann  Sebastian  Bach.  Behind  tliis 
rises  the  lofty  central  division  containing 
pipes;  and  crowning  it  is  a  beautiful  sit- 
ting statue  of  St.  Cecilia,  holding  her  lyre. 
On  each  side  of  her  a  griffin  sits  as  a 
guardian.  This  center  is  connected  by 
harp-shaped  compartments  filled  with 
pipes,  to  tlie  two  great  round  towers,  one 
on  each  side,  and  each  containing  three 
colossal  pipes.  These  magnificent  towers 
come   boldly   forward   into   the    hall,    be- 


ing the  most  prominent,  as  they  are  the 
highest  and  stateliest  part  of  the  facade. 
At  the  base  of  each,  a  gigantic  half-carya- 
tid, in  the  style  of  the  ancient  hermse,  but 
finished  to  the  waist,  bends  beneath  the 
superincumbent  weight,  like  Atlas  under 
the  globe.  These  figures  are  of  wonderful 
force,  the  muscular  development  excessive, 
but  in  keeping  with  their  superhuman 
task.  At  each  side  of  the  base,  two  lion- 
hermae  share  in  the  task  of  the  giant. 
Over  the  base  rise  the  round  pillars  which 
support  the  dome,  and  enclose  the  three 
great  pipes  already  mentioned.  Graceful 
as  these  look  in  their  positions,  half  a 
dozen  men  might  creep  into  one  of  them 
and  be  hidden.  The  three  great  pipes  are 
crowned  with  a  heavily  sculptured,  ribbed 
round  dome;  and  this  surmounted  on  each 
side  by  two  cherubs,  whose  heads  almost 
touch  the  lofty  ceiling.  This  whole  por- 
tion of  the  sculpture  is  of  eminent  beauty. 
All  the  reliefs  that  run  around  the  lower 
portion  of  the  dome  are  of  singular  rich- 
ness. The  whole  base  of  the  instrument, 
in  the  intervals  of  the  figures  described, 
is  also  covered  with  elaborate  carvings. 
Groups  of  musical  instruments,  standing 
out  almost  detached  from  the  background, 
occupy  the  panels.  Ancient  and  modern, 
clustered  with  careless  grace  and  quaint 
variety,  from  the  violin  down  to  a  string 
of  sleigh  bells,  they  call  up  all  the  echoes 
of  forgotten  music,  such  as  the  thousand- 
tongued  organ  blends  together  in  one 
grand  harmony.  As  we  return  to  the 
impression  produced  by  the  grand  facade, 
we  are  more  and  more  struck  with  the 
subtle  art  displayed  in  its  adaptations  and 
symbolisms.  Never  did  any  structure  we 
have  looked  upon  so  fully  justify  Madame 
de  Stal'l's  definition  of  architecture, — 
'  frozen  music'  The  outermost  towers, 
their  pillars"  and  domes,  are  all  square, 
their  outlines  thus  passing  without  too 
sudden  transition  from  the  sharp  square 
angles  of  the  vaulted  ceiling,  and  the  rec- 
tangular lines  of  the  walls  of  the  hall  itself, 
into  the  more  central  parts  of  the  instru- 
ment, where  a  smoother  outline  of  harmony 
is  predominant.     For  in  the  great  towers, 


GREAT  AXD  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


849 


which  step  forward,  as  it  were,  to  repre- 
sent the  ineaiiiiig  of  the  entire  structure, 
tlie  lines  are  all  curved,  as  if  the  slight 
discords  which  give  sharpness  and  variet}^ 
to  its  less  vital  jwrtions  were  all  oresolved 
as  we  approach  its  throbbing  heart." 

It  devolved  upon  Doctor  Upham,  as 
chairman  of  the  committee  under  whose 
direction  the  organ  \vas  built,  to  make 
formal  transfer  of  the  instrument  to  the 
Music  Hall  Association,  and  this  happy 
ceremony  took  place  on  the  evening  of 
October  31st.  At  about  eiglit  o'clock, 
strains  of  sweet  music  were  for  the  first 
time  heard  from  the  great  instrument, 
which  was  completely  hidden  from  the 
gaze  by  a  screen  of  green,  extending  from 
floor  to  ceiling.  So  thoroughly  rapt  were 
the  audience  in  the  rich  swelling  notes  of 
the  organ,  that  they  hardly  observed  the 
dimness  of  the  light,  which  seemed  to 
throw  a  veil  of  solemnity  over  the  whole 
scene.  For  nearly  twenty  minutes  the 
audience  sat  thus;  then  the  music  ceased; 
the  gas-lights  flashed  forth  in  all  their 
brilliancy,  and  the  huge  curtain  began  to 
descend.  Not  a  whisper  broke  the  charmed 
spell.  All  eyes  were  riveted  on  the  opeii- 
ing  space.  First  appeared  the  little  cher- 
ubs that  surmount  the  domes  of  the  main 
towers  of  the  structure,  then  the  domes 
themselves,  and  the  triple  columns  of  great 
pipes,  and  quickly  upon  this  the  full 
breadth  of  the  wondrous  instrument,  re- 
splendent with  its  burnished  columns  and 
golden  reliefs,  and  grand  and  majestic  in 
the  symmetry  of  its  massive  and  beautiful 
architecture,  burst  upon  the  view. 

And  now  the  silence  was  broken  by  one 
universal  cheer,  given  with  genuine  enthu- 
siasm. The  audience  rose  to  their  feet, 
positively  enraptured,  and  cheers  i;pon 
cheers  marked  the  auspicious  moment. 
The  scene,  so  grandly  impressive,  was 
worthy  an  occasion  so  memorable.  After 
three  rousing  clieers  for  Doctor  Upham, 
and  after  the  tumult  of  applause  had 
subsided,  ]\[r.  Morgan,  the  organist  of 
Grace  church,  New  York,  was  introduced, 
and  performed  the  William  Tell  overture 

(Rossini),  at  the  conclusion  of  which  he 

.^4 


retired  amid  hearty  applause.  Doctor 
Upham  then  stepped  forward  and  read  the 
report  of  the  seven  years'  labor  of  the 
building  committee.  After  this,  Mr.  Lang 
was  introduced  and  played  some  beautiful 
light  music,  giving  a  choice  extract  from 
Mendelssohn  and  a  bit  of  Rink's  flute  con- 
certo ;  to  him  succeeded  Mr.  Paine,  Avho 
gave  Bach's  Toccata  in  D  minor;  Mr. 
Thayer,  of  Worcester,  who  played  a 
Marclie  Triumphale,  of  his  own  composi- 
tion ;  and  INIr.  Wilcox,  who  chose  several 
selections,  nicely  adapted  for  displaying 
the  solo  stops  and  ingenious  adaptations. 

The  public  inauguration  of  this  most 
magnificent  elaboration  of  artistic  genius 
and  beauty  was  fixed  for  the  evening  of 
November  2,  1SG3,  and  the  event  took 
place  at  that  time,  in  the  presence  of  an 
aiulience  which,  for  numbers  and  distinc- 
tion, has  seldom  if  ever  been  matched  in 
this  countr}',  so  remarkable  for  its  popular 
gatherings.  The  programme  for  tlie  occa- 
sion was  prepared  with  great  care,  with  a 
view  to  represent,  so  far  as  time  and  oppor- 
tunity admitted,  the  principal  worthy 
schools  of  organ  music  ;  above  all,  to  reveal 
something  of  the  proper  grandeur  and 
beauty  of  the  organ  in  its  impersonality. 

The  vast  hall  was  crowded  to  overflow- 
ing, ever}'  foot  of  space  being  occupied  by 
men  and  women  renowned  in  intellectual, 
scientific,  and  artistic  attainments.  The 
exercises  of  the  evening  commenced  with 
an  original  ode,  written  for  the  occasion 
by  Mrs.  James  T.  Fields,  and  recited  by 
Miss  Charlotte  Cushman,  who  paused  in 
her  route  to  Rome  to  assist  at  this  festival. 
Then  followed  the  musical  part  of  the  pro- 
gramme, the  opening  performance  being 
appropriately  delegated  to  Herr  Fricdrich 
Walcker,  son  of  the  eminent  organ-builder, 
E.  Fr.  Walcker,  of  Ludwigsburg,  kingdom 
of  Wurtemburg.  And  then  followed  per- 
formances by  Messrs.  Paine,  Tbayer,  Mor- 
gan, Lang,  Tuckerman,  and  "Wilcox, .the 
whole  concluding  with  Handel's  magnifi- 
cent Hallelujah  Chorus.  The  music  ended, 
there  was  a  general  flocking  of  the  com- 
pany toward  the  stage,  for  a  nearer  exam- 
ination of  the  beautiful  details  of  the  work. 


850 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


They  seemed  a  crowd  of  worshipers  going 
up  to  a  cathedral;  and  the  bronze  Beetho- 
ven, looking  down  benignly  in  the  very 
focus  of  all  that  architectural  beauty, 
seemed  like  the  idol  of  their  homage.  All 
mouths  were  warm  in  praise  of  Doctor  Up- 
ham,  for  his  original  conception  of  the  enter- 
prise, his  admirable  wisdom  in  devising 
means  for  carrying  it  into  execution, — in 
a  word,  for  his  intelligent,  enthusiastic 
direction  and  oversight  of  the  work  in 
general  and  in  detail,  from  its  beginning 
to  its  successful  completion. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  portray  the 
effect  produced  upon  the  audience  by  the 
grand  harmonies  of  this  majestic  instru- 
ment, when  thus  handled  by  the  masters 
of  musical  science.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that, 
in  all  that  brilliant  multitude,  composed 
largely  of  musical  performers,  critics,  and 
connoisseurs,  there  was  no  dissenting  opin- 
ion in  regard  to  the  qualities  of  the  instru- 
ment, all  agreeing  as  to  its  vast  volume  of 
tone — so  evenly  balanced  through  its  en- 
tire compass,  so  full  and  rich  in  eA'ery 
part,  and  supported  and  sustained  by 
the  pedale  of  twenty  stops  ;  all  agreeing, 
too,  as  to  the  beauty  of  tone  of  such 
stops  as  could  be  displayed  on  an  occasion 
like  this,  and  as  to  the  jierfection  of 
the  mechanism  which  j^ermitted  a  first 
performance  marked  by  no  accident  and 
no  failure. 

One  of  the  most  intelligent  critics  con- 
nected with  the  New  York  press,  in  writ- 
ing an  account  of  this  instrument,  spoke 
of  it  as  the  last  best  gift  of  the  O'.d  World 
to  the  New.  "There  is  nothing  on  the 
continent  comparable  with  it ;  and  I  should 


hold  it  not  a  sin  to  worship  it, — or  rather 
worship  at  its  sacred  shrine.  The  case 
has  been  minutely  described,  but  not  ade- 
quately ;  it  never  can  be.  Seen  last  night, 
in  the  mingled  gas  and  electric  light,  it 
was  like  a  vision.  The  full  scope  of  the 
design  is  known  only  by  careful  study,  and 
the  perfection  of  it  is  no  less  wonderful 
than  the  instrument  itself."  Another  cor- 
respondent of  the  press  of  that  city  wrote, 
in  relation  to  the  same  point :  "  As  I 
looked  at  it  again  and  again,  during  the 
evening,  I  found  new  beauties.  In  the 
softened  gas-light  and  the  dazzling  glare 
of  the  electric  light,  burning  on  the  pol- 
ished pipes,  I  hardly  thought  of  its  being 
real.  But  on  ascending  the  stage  after- 
wards, and  standing  by  the  two  figures 
which  support  the  two  groups  of  large 
pipes,  I  saw  the  majesty  of  the  design.  It 
is  only  by  standing  close  by,  that  an  idea 
of  the  scope  and  marvelous  creation  in  it 
can  be  fully  attained;  for  this  facade  is  a 
creation, — a  thing  of  perfect  beauty.  In 
itself  alone  we  might  behold  art  enshrined ; 
but  when  there  is  behind  all  this,  as  its 
lord  and  occasion,  a  thousand-tongued  soul, 
we  may  be  reverently  glad  at  having  on 
American  soil  what  is  at  least,  if  not  the 
largest,  as  perfect  an  organ  as  any  in  the 
world."  Such,  indeed,  was  the  involuntary 
and  enthusiastic  testimony  borne  by  all 
those  whose  good  fortune  it  was  to  be 
present  on  this  occasion,  and  such,  too,  has 
been  the  verdict  of  the  great  public,  who, 
in  ceaseless  throngs  and  untold  numbers, 
have  from  that  day  to  the  present,  made 
the  GuEAT  Organ  the  object  of  their  glad 
pilgrimage. 


XCIX. 

COMBAT  BETWEEN   THE  ALABAMA,  CAPTAIN   SEMMES, 
AND    THE    KEARSARGE,    CAPTAIN   WINSLOW, 
OFF    CHERBOURG.— 1864. 


The  Alabama  is  Sunk  after  an  Hour's  EngRgement,  in  Sight  of  the  Two  Great  Maritime  Powers  of 
Europe — Semmes  Throws  His  Sword  Away,  Jumps  Overboard,  and  Escapes. — Relative  Equality,  in 
Size  and  Armament,  of  the  Two  Vessels — The  Previous  Destructive  Career  of  the  Alabama  against 
Northern  Commerce  — Causeless  Raid  on  Marine  Property. — Fault  in  the  Law  of  Nations. — British 
Origin  of  tiie  Alabama — Her  Unmistakable  Character. — Peculiar  Model  and  Equipment — Adiipteil 
to  Destroy,  Fight,  or  Run. — Adroit  Shipment  of  Stores  and  Guns. — Ready  for  a  Start. — All  Hands 
Mustered  Aft. — Semmes  Reads  Aloud  His  Commission  — Cheers  for  Davis,  Semmes,  etc. — Salute 
Fired  :  Hoisting  the  Flag. — A  Long  Cruise  Terrible  Ravages  — Puts  in,  at  Cherbourg,  France. — 
The  United  States  Ship  Kearsarge  on  His  Track. — Semmes  Boldly  Offers  to  Fight — Preliminary 
Maneuvers  of  the  Ships — Seven  Circles  Round  Each  Other — Semmes's  Rapid  and  Furious  Fire. — 
Superior  Gunnery  of  the  Kearsarge.— Its  Fatal  Effect  on  the  Alabama. — Incidents  of  this  Renowned 
Fight. 


"  Sink,  bum,  and  destroy  everything  which  flies  the  ensign  of  the  so-called  United  States."— Semmes's  Commission  fbom  Jefferson 
Davis. 


USTICE,  reason,  and  law,  will  eventually  unite,  in 

all   the  states   of  Christendom,  in   exempting  the 

merchant  vessels  of  belligerent  nations,  engaged  in 

^^^^^"^^^^    the  transport  of  goods  on  the  high  seas,  not  contra- 

J  K^^j^^^^^    band  of  war,from  capture  by  privateers.     Had  this 

gg|-ff7^^y^^    wise  and  equitable  principle  prevailed  during  the 


^^^^^^M  four  years  of  the  American  Civil  Conflict,  the 
commerce  of  the  United  States  would  not  have  been 
swept  from  the  ocean  b}-  a  few  j-redator}'  cruisers 
like  the  Sumter,  the  Florida,  the  Georgia,  and 
chief  of  all  the  Alabama,  the  latter  commanded  by 
Captain  Eaphael  Semmes,  formerly  an  ofiHcer  of 
MERc^^^^ssELirruN^mr'TnE^LABAS.^  the  United  States  nav}--,  and  a  man  of  acknowledged 
professional  abilities.  No  feature  in  the  devastations  which  accompanied  that  sanguin- 
ary conflict  appears  now,  at  this  remote  view  of  the  period  when  it  occurred,  more 
causeless  and  deplorable  than  this  indiscriminate  destruction  of  merchant  shipping,  the 
hapless  crews  of  which  were  composed  largely  of  natives  of  other  countries,  and  there- 
fore in  no  wise  involved  in  or  responsible  for  the  war. 

On  this  account,  the  devastations  of  the  Alabama — so  famous  for  its  successful  career 
as  "  the  scourge  of  the  seas,"  as  well  as  for  the  grave  complications  between  England 
and  America  to  which  her  career  subsequently  gave  rise,  and  especially  for  the  sum- 


852 


OUE  FIKST  CENTUEY.— 1776-1876. 


mary  doom  which  at  last  overtook  her  in 
an  engagement  with  the  United  States 
gun-boat  Kearsarge,  commanded  by  Capt. 
John  A.  Winslow,  U.  S.  K,  will  here 
form  the  subject  of  a  few  pages.  The 
engagrement  which  at  last  sealed  her  doom, 
took  place  Sunday  forenoon,  June  19, 
1864,  off  Cherbourg,  in  the  English  chan- 
nel, in  plain  sight  of  the  two  great  mari- 
time powers  of  Europe. 

Originally  known  as  the  "290,"  this 
vessel  was  built  by  Mr.  Laird,  the  eminent 
ship-builder,  at  Liverpool,  or  Birkenhead, 
and  presented  the  following  peculiarities 
in  her  make,  appointments,  and  manage- 
ment :  Of  about  twelve  hundred  tons  bur- 
den ;  draught  some  fourteen  feet ;  engines 
by  Laird  and  Sons,  Birkenhead,  1862.  She 
was  a  wooden  vessel,  propelled  by  a  screw, 
copper  bottom,  two  hundred  and  ten  feet 
length  on  water-line,  rather  narrow,  painted 
black  outside  and  drab  inside  ;  had  a  round 
stern,  billet  head,  very  little  shear,  flush 
deck  fore  and  aft ;  a  bridge  forward  of  the 
smoke-stack  carried  two  large  black  boats 
on  cranes  amidships  forward  of  the  main 
rigging;  two  black  quarter-boats  between 
the  main  and  mizzen  masts,  one  small 
black  boat  over  the  stern,  on  cranes  ;  the 
spare  spars,  on  a  gallows  between  the 
bridge    and   foremast,   showed   above  the 


rail 


In  respect  to  armament,  she  carried  three 
long  thirty-two  pounders  on  a  side,  and 
was  pierced  for  two  more  amidships  ;  had 
a  one  hundred  pound  rifled  pivot  gun  for- 
ward of  the  bridge,  and  a  sixty-eight  j)0und 
pivot  on  the  main  deck  ;  also,  a  pivot  bow- 
gun,  and  a  pivot  stern  chaser.  This  was 
her  armament  when  she  began  hor  career, 
her  guns  being  of  the  well-known  Blakely 
pattern,  manufactured  in  Liverpool,  in 
1862. 

She  was  bark-rigged ;  had  very  long, 
bright  lower  masts,  and  black  mast-heads  ; 
yards  black,  long  yard-arms,  short  poles — 
al)()ut  one  to  two  feet — with  small  doer- 
vanes  on  each,  and  a  pendant  to  the  main  ; 
stuilding-sail  booms  on  the  fore  and  main, 
and  wire  rigging.  Carried  on  her  fore- 
mast a  square  foresail  ;  large  try-sail  with 


two  reefs,  and  a  bonnet  top-sail  with  two 
reefs,  top-gallant  sail  and  royal.  On  the 
mizzen-mast  a  very  large  spanker  and  a 
short  three-cornered  gaff  top-sail ;  a  fore 
and  foretop-mast  stay-sail  and  jib ;  no 
stay-sail  to  the  main  or  mizzen  mast  bent 
or  royal  yards  aloft.  On  the  mainmast  a 
large  try-sail  with  two  reefs  and  a  bonnet. 
No  square  main-sail  bent,  top-sail  two 
reefs,  top-gallant  sail  and  royal. 

Of  her  appearance  and  management  at 
sea,  she  was  rated,  in  respect  to  speed,  at 
thirteen  knots  under  canvas  and  fifteen 
under  steam  ;  could  get  steam  in  twenty 
minutes,  but  seldom  used  it  except  in  a 
chase  or  emergency.  Had  all  national 
flags,  but  usually  set  the  St.  George's 
cross  on  approaching  a  vessel.  Her  com- 
plement of  men  varied  from  one  hundred 
to  considerably  more  than  that  number. 
A  man  Avas  kept  at  the  mast-head  from 
daylight  until  sunset.  Her  sails  were  of 
hemp  canvas,  made  very  reaching;  the 
top-sails  had  twenty  cloths  on  the  head 
and  thirty  on  the  foot.  The  general 
appearance  of  the  hull  and  sails  was  de- 
cidedly English.  She  was  generally  un- 
der two  top-sails,  fore  and  main  trj'-sails ; 
fore  and  foretop-mast  stay-sails ;  some- 
times top-gallant  sails  and  jib,  but  seldom 
any  sails  on  the  mizzen  except  while  in 
charge  of  a  vessel.  She  Avas  very  slow  in 
stays;  generally  wore  ship.  Being  built 
exjiressly  for  a  privateer,  she  was  adapted, 
in  all  respects,  to  destroj',  fight,  or  run, 
according  as  the  character  of  her  opponent 
might  be. 

She  left  Birkenhead,  towards  the  end  of 
July,  ostensibly  on  a  trial  trip,  having  on 
board  a  large  party  of  ladies  and  gentle- 
men. On  getting  out  of  the  Mersey,  this 
party  was  sent  back  in  a  tug-boat,  and  the 
290,  as  had  been  previously  arranged, 
neglected  to  return  to  Birkenhead,  but 
steamed  direct  for  the  island  in  the  Atlan- 
tic Avhere  she  Avas  to  take  in  her  guns, 
ammunition,  etc. 

On  leaving  England,  the  privateer  had 
a  crew  of  ninety-three  men,  for  the  most 
part  belonging  to  the  English  naA'al  re- 
serve, all  being  trained  gunners,  and  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


853 


majority  old  men-of-war's  men.  She  was 
temftorarily  coinniandiHl  by  Captain  Bul- 
lock, who  liad  umh'r  him  the  proper  coni- 
pleuK'ut  of  couuuissioned  and  petty  officers. 
Captain  Bullock  having  learned  that  the 
Tuscarora,  a  United  States  war  vessel,  lay 
in  wait  for  him  in  St.  George's  channel, 
took  his  departure  by  what  is  known  as 
the  north  channel,  thus  eluding  pursuit; 
thougli,  even  had  he  been  intercepted,  the 
Tuscarora  would  have  found  herself  in  a 
dilemma,  as  the  escaped  vessel  had  a  set 
of  English  papers,  and  other  j)resuniptive 
proofs  of  her  neutrality,  in  the  face  of 
which,  interference  might  have  been  diffi- 
cult. At  this  time,  she  carried  no  guns, 
uor   any    warlike    stores,    but    consisted 


^^^o^^'Z^a^ 


merely  of  the  hull,  spars,  and  engines,  with 
sufficient  coal  and  other  requisites  to  ena- 
ble her  to  reach  her  destination,  which  was 
Tarissa,  one  of  the  Azores,  or  Western 
Islands,  belonging  to  Portugal.  This  des- 
tination the  vessel  duly  reached,  after  a 
favorable  run  of  eight  days,  nothing  of  any 
moment  having  occurred  to  break  the  usual 
monotony  of  a  sea  voyage. 

Some  time  before  her  departure  from 
the  Mersey,  a  large  bark  left  the  Thames, 
— clearing  for  Demerara,  West  Indies, — 
to  meet  the  privateer  at  Tarissa,  and  there 
transfer  to  the  latter  vessel  the  guns  and 
stores  destined  for  her,  and  which  formed 
the  cargo  of  the  bark.  Some  reason  re- 
quired to  be  assigned  to  the  Portuguese 
authorities  for  the  290  having  anchored  in 


this  way,  in  their  bay,  and  accordingly  the 
excuse  furnished  them  was  that  her  en- 
gines had  broken  down.  This  plea  was 
accepted  as  valid^  and,  during  the  week 
that  intervened  betwixt  the  arrival  at 
Tarissa  of  the  privateer  and  the  bark,  the 
crew  of  the  former  vessel  were  engaged 
ostensibly  in  repairing  her  engines,  but 
really  in  preparing  her  to  receive  her  guns, 
etc.  About  the  lapse  of  a  week  from  tlie 
arrival  of  the  290,  the  bark  above  men- 
tioned sailed  in  and  anchored,  her  captain 
alleging  as  a  reason  to  the  Portuguese  offi- 
cials that  his  vessel  had  sprung  a  leak, 
which  would  require  to  be  repaired  ere  she 
could  resume  her  voyage ;  and  on  this 
understanding,  the  Portuguese  at  once 
placed  her  in  quarantine,  which  in 
the  Azores  lasts  three  days. 

On  the  day  after  the  bark's  arrival. 
Captain    Bullock,    being    anxious    to 
get  his  guns  on  board,  hauled  altJng- 
side   of  the  bark,  and  erected  a  pair 
of  large  shears  to  effect  the  transfer 
of  her  cargo  from  the  bark's  hold  to 
the  privateer's  deck.      This   brought 
off  the  Portuguese  in  a  furj-,  that  their 
rules  should  have  been  broken  by  the 
290    having    dared    to    communicate 
with  a  vessel  that  had  still  quarantine 
time    to   run,  and    they    angrily    de- 
manded   to    know    the     reason    why 
their  regulations  had  been  infringed. 
They  were  told  that  the  bark  was    in    a 
sinking    state,    and   the    erection    of    the 
shears  was   accounted  for  by  urging   the 
necessity  of  an  immediate  transfer,  tempo- 
rarily, of  her  cargo,  that  the  leak  might 
be  reached  and  stopped;  and  Captain  Bul- 
lock finally  succeeded  in  bearing  down  all 
opposition  by  feigning  to  get  into  a  pas- 
sion, saying  that  he  was  doing  no  more  for 
the  bark  than  any   Englishman  would  do 
for   another  in  distress.     The  Portuguese 
were  content  to  leave  the  vessel,  and  the 
transhipment    proceeded    without   further 
hindrance  from  those  on  shore. 

About  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day, 
and  when  the  transfer  was  nearly  comjilete, 
the  British  screw-steamer  Bahama  came 
in,  having  on  board  Captain  Semmes  and 


854 


OUK  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


other  late  officers  of  the  privateer  Sumter 
(cut  short  in  lier  career),  besides  the  re- 
mainder of  the  290's  armament,  and  an 
addition  of  twenty  or  more  men  to  her 
crew.  On  the  Bahama's  arrival  and  an- 
chora<]fe,  on  a  somewliat  similar  pretext  to 
those  given  by  her  two  predecessors,  the 
Portuguese  apparently  lost  all  patience, 
and  peremptorily  insisted  on  the  instant  de- 
parture of  all  three  vessels.  The  Baliama 
at  once  communicated  with  the  290,  and 
having  handed  over  to  the  latter  everything 
destined  for  her,  got  up  steam  and  left, 
followed  by  the  290,  towing  the  now  empty 
bark. 

All  three  went,  not  to  sea,  as  they  had 
been  ordered  to  do,  but  to  Angra  Ba^' — a 
bay  in  the  same  island,  and  only  a  few 
leagues  distant  from  Tarissa  Roads.  Here 
they  remained  unmolested  until  noon  of 
the  following  day,  Sunday,  when,  for  the 
second  time,  all  three  vessels  were  ordered 
out  of  Portuguese  waters.  All  the  290's 
guns  being  now  mounted,  and  the  vessel 
otherwise  ready  for  a  cruise,  the  order  was 
obeyed,  and  all  took  their  departure,  the 
bark  as  before  in  tow  of  the  290,  which, 
having  convoyed  her  well  out  to  sea,  cast 
her  off,  and,  with  a  favoring  breeze,  she 
steered  for  Cardiff,  to  bring  out  a  further 
supply  of  coal  for  the  290's  future  use. 

The  privateer  and  the  Bahama  now 
steamed  around  the  island,  and  Captain 
Semmes,  coming  out  of  his  cabin,  ordered 
his  first  lieutenant  to  muster  the  crew  aft. 
This  having  been  done,  and  all  the  officers 
assembled  on  the  poop  in  their  full  uni- 
form, name!}",  the  confederate  gray  frock- 
coat  and  trousers,  Captain  Semmes  en- 
joined silence,  and  read  his  commission  as 
post-captain  in  the  confederate  navy.  It 
was  a  document  duly  attested  at  Rich- 
mond, and  bore  the  signature  of  '•  Jeff 
Davis,  President  Confederate  States  of 
America."  He  then  opened  and  read  his 
sealed  orders  from  Mr.  Davis,  directing 
him  to  assume  command  of  the  confederate 
sloop-of-war  Alabama,  liitherto  known  as 
the  290,  in  Avhich,  having  been  duly  com- 
missioned, he  was  to  hoist  the  confederate 
ensign  and  pennant,  and  "sink,  hum,  and 


destroy  everything  which  flew  the  ensign 
of  the  so-called  United  States  of  America  J' 

CajDtain  Semmes  then  ordered  the  first 
lieutenant  to  fire  a  gun  and  run  up  the 
confederate  flag  and  pennant.  The  gun 
was  fired  by  the  second  lieutenant,  and, 
ere  its  smoke  had  cleared  away,  the  stars 
and  bars  of  tlie  southern  confederacy  were 
floating  on  the  breeze,  and  the  ceremony 
was  complete,  —  Semmes  declaring  the 
vessel,  henceforth  to  be  known  as  the  Ala- 
bama, to  have  been  duly  commissioned. 

The  next  step  was  formally  to  engage 
the  crew  to  serve  and  fight  under  the 
southern  flag,  which  having  been  done,  the 
men  were  addressed  b}'  their  captain  in  a 
stirring  speech,  in  the  course  of  which  he 
said  there  were  only  four  vessels  in  the 
United  States  navy  that  were  more  than  a 
match  for  the  Alabama;  but,  he  added,  in 
an  English-built  heart  of  oak  as  the  Ala- 
bama was,  and  surrounded  as  he  then  saw 
himself  by  British  hearts  of  oak,  he 
wouldn't  strike  his  newlj- -hoisted  flag  for 
any  one  of  the  four.  This  elicited  a  hearty 
burst  of  applause  for  Davis,  the  confeder- 
acy, and  Semmes,  and,  when  it  had  sub- 
sided, the  captain  said  that  the  Bahama 
was  on  the  point  of  leaving  for  England, 
and  intimated  that  if  any  of  his  crew 
repented  of  the  step  they  had  taken,  they 
were  free  to  return  in  her.  This  alterna- 
tive none  would  accept,  and  Captain  Bul- 
lock and  a  few  of  the  other  officers  who 
had  taken  the  290  from  England  to  the 
Azores  finding  their  occupation  gone, 
through  the  arrival  of  those  who  had  held 
similar  appointments  in  the  Sumter,  haA'- 
ing  gone  on  board  the  Bahama,  that  vessel 
and  the  Alabama,  amid  heart}^  cheering 
from  the  crews  of  both,  parted  compan}-, 
the  former  pursuing  her  course  back  to 
England,  and  the  latter  making  chase  for 
an  American  whaler,  which  she  soon  caj)- 
tured  and  burned. 

Tl)is  vas  the  first  prize  tahen  ly 
Semmes,  in  that  long  and  successful  career 
in  the  Soutli  Atlantic  ami  Indian  oceans, 
during  which  he  inflicted  almost  untold 
damage  upon  the  merchant  marine  service 
of   the    United   States,    and    successfully 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


855 


eluding  the  most  diligent  pursuit  and  the 
best-laid  plans  of  capture. 

Nor  is  it  possible  to  conjecture  how 
much  longer  this  prosperous  career  of  the 
Alabama  would  have  continued,  but  for  the 
fortuitous  circimistance  Avhich  suddenly 
arose,  and  which  as  suddenly  terminated 
in  her  complete  destruction. 

Making  good  her  escape  from  the  United 
States  naval  vessels  at  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope  and  Stx'aits  of  Sunda,  and  after  com- 
mitting sundry  devastations,  the  Alabama 
returned  westward,  in  June,  1864,  and 
took  refuge  under  the  guns  of  Fort  Du 
Romet,  off  Cherbourg,  a  French  port.  At 
the  same  time,  the  United  States  gun-boat 
Kearsarge,  Captain  Wiuslow,  was  lying  at 


Flushing,  Holland,  when  a  telegram  came 
from  Mr.  Dayton,  the  American  ambassa- 
dor at  Paris,  stating  that  the  Alabama  was 
at  Cherbourg.  The  Kearsarge  immedi- 
ately put  to  sea,  and  arrived  at  Cherbourg 
in  quick  time,  taking  the  Alabama  quite 
by  surprise  by  so  sudden  an  aj^pearance  on 
her  track.  Through  the  consular  agent,  a 
8ort  of  challenge  was  received  by  Captain 
Winslow  from  Captain  Semmes,  the  latter 
stating  that  he  would  like  to  measure  the 
strength  of  his  vessel  with  that  of  the 
Kearsarge, —  that  if  the  latter  remained 
off  the  port  he  would  come  out  and  fight 
her, — and  that  he  would  not  detain  the 
vessel  long. 

After    cruising    off    the   port   for   five 


days,  until  Sunday,  June  19th,  at  about 
half-past  ten  o'clock,  in  the  forenoon.  Cap- 
tain Winslow  descried  the  starry  ensign 
of  the  Alabama  floating  in  the  breeze,  as 
she  came  boldly  out  of  the  western  en- 
trance, accompanied  by  the  French  iron- 
clad steamer  Couronne  and  the  English 
yacht  Deerhound,  the  latter  having  on 
board  its  owner,  Mr.  Lancaster — a  member 
of  the  Royal  Yacht  Club — together  with 
his  wife  and  family.  The  Couronne  re- 
tired into  port,  after  seeing  the  combatants 
outside  of  French  waters.  Captain  Wins- 
low had  previously  had  an  interview  with 
the  admiral  of  Cherbourg,  assuring  him 
that,  in  the  event  of  an  action  occurring 
with  the  Alabama,  the  position  of  the 
vessels  should  be  so  far  off  shore  that  no 
question  would  be  advanced  about  the  line 
of  jurisdiction.  When  the  Alabama  was 
first  descried,  the  Kearsarge  Avas  about 
three  miles  from  the  entrance  of  the  har- 
bor, and,  to  make  certain  that  none  of  the 
maneuvers  of  battle  took  place  within  the 
French  waters,  as  Avell  as  to  draw  the  Ala- 
bama so  far  off  that,  if  disabled,  she  could 
not  flee  in  to  the  shore  for  protection  from 
her  French  allies  or  sympathizers,  the 
Kearsarge  stood  to  seaward  until  she  had 
attained  the  distance  of  about  seven  miles 
from  the  shore. 

At  ten  minutes  before  eleven,  the  Kear- 
sarge came  quick  about  and  approached 
the  Alabama.  AVhen  within  about  three- 
quarters  of  a  mile,  the  Alabama  opened 
her  guns  with  her  starboard  broadside. 
The  Kearsarge  made  no  reply  for  some 
minutes,  but  ranged  up  nearer,  and  then 
opened  her  starboard  battery,  fighting  six 
guns,  and  leaving  only  one  thirty-two 
pounder  idle.  The  Alabama  fought  seven 
guns,  working  them  with  the  greatest 
rapidity,  sending  shot  and  shell  in  a  con- 
stant stream  over  her  adversary.  Both 
vessels  used  their  starboard  batteries,  the 
two  being  maneuvered  in  a  cii-cle  about 
each  other  at  a  distance  of  from  five  hun- 
dred to  one  thousand  j'ards.  Seven  com- 
plete circles  were  made  during  the  action, 
which  lasted  a  little  over  one  hour.  At 
the  last  of  the  action,  when  the  Alabama 


S5G 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


would  have  made  off,  she  was  near  five 
miles  fi'Oin  the  shore ;  and,  had  the  action 
continued  from  the  first  in  2>iii'a,llel  lines, 
with  her  head  in  shore,  the  line  of  juris- 
diction would,  no  doubt,  have  been  reached. 

From  the  first,  the  firing  of  the  Ala- 
bama was  rapid  and  wild ;  toward  the 
close  of  the  action,  the  firing  became  bet- 
ter. The  Keai'sarge  gunners,  who  had 
been  cautioned  against  firing  rapidly,  with- 
out direct  aim,  were  much  more  deliberate  ; 
and  the  instructions  given  to  point  the 
heavy  guns  below  rather  than  above  the 
water-line,  and  clear  the  deck  with  lighter 
ones,  was  fully  observed. 

Captain  Winslow  had  endeavored,  with 
a  port  helm,  to  close  in  with  the  Alabama; 
but  it  was  not  until  just  before  the  close 
of  the  action,  that  he  was  in  position  to 
use  grape.  This  was  avoided,  however,  by 
the  Alabama's  surrender.  The  effect  of 
the  training  of  the  Kearsarge's  men  was 
evident ;  nearly  every  shot  from  their 
guns  told  fearfully  on  the  Alabama,  and  on 
the  seventh  rotation  in  the  circular  track, 
she  winded,  setting  fore-trysail  and  two 
jibs,  with  head  in  shore.  Her  speed  was 
now  retarded,  and  by  winding  her  port 
broadside  was  presented  to  the  Kearsarge, 
Avith  only  two  guns  bearing,  not  having 
been  able  to  shift  over  but  one.  Caj>tain 
Winslow  now  saw  that  she  was  at  his 
mercy,  and  a  few  more  guns  brought  down 
her  flag,  though  it  was  difficult  to  ascer- 
tain whether  it  had  been  hauled  down  or 
shot  away ;  but  a  white  flag  having  been 
dis[)layed  over  the  stern,  the  fire  of  the 
Kearsarge  was  reserved. 

Two  minutes  had  not  more  than  elapsed 
before  the  Alabama  again  opened  fire  on 
the  Kearsarge,  with  the  two  guns  on  the 
port  side.  This  drew  Ca{)tain  Winslow's 
fire  again,  and  the  Kearsarge  was  immedi- 
ately steamed  ahead  and  laid  across  her 
bows  for  raking.  The  white  flag  was  still 
flying,  and  the  Kearsarge's  fire  was  again 
reserved.  Shortly  after  this,  her  boats 
were  to  be  seen  lowering,  and  an  officer  in 
(■ne  of  them  came  alongside  and  stated  that 
the  ship  had  surrendered,  and  was  fast 
sinking.     In    twenty   minutes    from    this 


time  the  Alabama  went  down,  her  main- 
mast, which  had  been  shot,  breaking  near 
the  head  as  she  sank,  and  her  bow  rising 
high  out  of  the  water,  as  her  stern  rapidly 
settled. 

At  precisely  twenty-four  minutes  past 
twelve,  twenty  minutes  after  her  furnace 
fires  went  out,  the  Alabama  being  on  the 
point  of  making  her  final  plunge,  the  word 
went  forth  for  ever}'  man  to  take  care  of 
himself,  which  they  did  by  jumping  over- 
board, Semmes  throwing  his  sword  into  the 
ocean  and  then  taking  a  swim  himself, 
making  for  the  Deerhound,  which  rescued 
him  and  thirteen  other  officers.  None  of 
the  men  who  had  been  killed  were  left  to 
sink ;  of  the  twenty-one  wounded,  some 
were  in  the  quarter-boats  with  the  boj'S, 
and  others  on  board  the  Kearsarge ;  the 
rest  of  the  crew  were  all  afloat,  and  some 
of  them  drowning.  Every  available  boat 
of  both  vessels  was  now  employed  in  their 
rescue  ;  and  besides  these,  the  Deerhound 
and  a  French  pilot-boat  shared  in  this 
humane  service.  In  this  way,  one  hun- 
dred and  nineteen  were  saved,  the  greater 
number  b}'^  the  boats  of  the  Kearsarge. 
Semmos's  three  waist-boats  had  been  torn 
to  shreds  in  the  fight,  and  he  had  left  only 
two  quarter-boats  ;  these  Avere  filled  with 
the  wounded  and  wi'.h  boys  unable  to 
swim. 

The  chances  of  this  conflict,  estimated 
from  the  relative  strength  and  sjx'cd  of 
the  two  vessels,  were  nearl}'  equally  bal- 
anced. Thus,  the  length  over  all,  of  the 
Alabama,  was  two  hundred  and  twenty 
feet,  and  of  the  Kearsarge,  two  hundred 
and  fourteen ;  the  Alabama's  length  on 
water-line,  two  hundred  and  ten  feet,  and 
of  the  Kearsarge,  one  hundred  and  ninety- 
eight  ;  the  Alabama's  beam  was  thirty-two 
feet,  being  one  less  than  the  Kearsarge's; 
depth  of  the  Alabama,  seventeen  feet,  or 
one  more  than  the  Kearsarge;  the  two 
engines  of  the  Alabama  were  of  three  hun- 
dred horse-power  each,  while  the  horse- 
power of  the  Kearsarge  was  four  hundred. 
Tonnage  of  the  Alabama,  eleven  hundred 
and  fifty ;  of  the  Kearsarge,  one  thousand 
and  thirty. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


857 


The  complete  armament  of  the  Alabama 
consisted  of  one  seven-inch  Bhikely  rifle, 
one  eight-inch  smooth  bore  sixty-eight 
pounder,  and  six  thirty -two  pounders. 
The  armament  of  the  Kearsarge  consisted 
of  two  eleven-inch  smooth  bore  guns,  one 
thirty-pounder  rifle,  and  four  thirty-tw^o 
pounders.  In  the  combat,  the  Kearsarge 
used  but  five  guns ;  the  Alabama,  seven. 
The  Kearsarge  had  one  hundred  and  sixty- 


from  the  Alabama  struck  these  chains,  and 
fell  harmlessly  into  the  water.  The  Ala- 
bama, it  was  estimated,  discharged  three 
hundred  and  seventy  or  more  shot  and 
shell,  but  inflicted  no  serious  damage  on 
the  Kearsarge  ;  some  thirteen  or  fourteen 
took  effect  in  and  about  the  hull,  and  six- 
teen or  seventeen  about  the  masts  and 
rigging.  The  Kearsarge  fired  one  hun- 
dred   and    seventy-three     projectiles,    of 


NAVAL  CONTEST   IiETVVEEN  THE   KEARSARGE   AND  ALABAMA. 


two  men,  including  officers  ;  the  Alabama, 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty. 

For  five  days  the  Alabama  had  been  in 
preparation.  She  had  taken  in  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty  tons  of  coal,  which  brought 
her  down  in  the  water.  The  Kearsarge 
had  only  one  hundred  and  twenty  tons  in  ; 
but,  as  an  offset  to  this,  her  sheet-chains 
were  stowed  outside,  stopped  up  and  down, 
as  an  additional  preventive  and  protection 
to  her  more  empty  bunkers.     Two  shots 


which  one  alone  killed  and  wounded  eight- 
een of  the  Alabama's  men,  and  disabled 
one  of  her  guns. 

On  board  the  Kearsarge,  three  men 
were  badly  wounded,  one  of  them — Wil- 
liam Gowin,  of  Michigan  —  mortally. 
Though  struck  quite  early  in  the  action, 
by  a  fragment  of  a  shell,  which  badly  shat- 
tered his  leg,  near  the  knee-pan,  Gowin 
refused  assistance,  concealed  the  extent  of 
his  injury,  and  dragged  himself  from  the 


858 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


after  pivot  gun  to  the  fore-liatcli,  unwilling 
to  take  any  one  from  his  station.  During 
tlie  progress  of  the  action,  lie  comforted 
his  suffering  comrades  by  assuring  them 
that  "  Victory  is  ours  !  *'  "Whenever  the 
guns'  crews  cheered  at  the  successful  effect 
of  their  shot,  Gowin  waved  his  hat  over 
his  head  and  joined  in  the  shout.  "When 
brouglit  at  length  to  the  sui-geon,  he  ap- 
peared with  a  smile  on  his  face,  though 
suffering  acutely  from  his  injur3^  He 
said,  "  It  is  all  rrght,  and  I  am  satisfied, 
for  we  are  whipping  the  Alabama.  I  wil- 
lingly will  lose  my  leg  or  life,  if  it  is  nec- 
essarj-."  In  the  hospital,  he  was  calmly 
resigned  to  his  fate,  repeating  again  and 
again  his  willingness  to  die,  since  his  ship 
had  won  a  glorious  victory. 

The  following  conversation  with  one  of 
the  crew  of  the  Alabama,  as  given  in  the 
London  "Cornhill  Magazine,"  furnishes 
some  interesting  memorabilia  concerning 
this  remarkable  encounter : 

"But  I  thought  you  had  been  in  the 
confederate  navy." 

*' I  was,"  said  Aleck.  "I  was  with 
Semmes  everywhere  he  went.  I  was  in 
the  naval  brigade  and  blockade-running, 
and  on  the  Alabama  all  the  while  he  com- 
manded her." 

"But  not  when  she  sank,  I  suppose." 

"  JValf,  I  was,  and  was  picked  up  with 
him  by  the  Deerhound." 

"  It  was  a  pretty  sharp  light,  wasn't 
it?" 

"  It  was  that !  " 

"  I  suppose  it  was  the  eleven-inch  shells 
that  did  her  business  ?  " 

"Oh,  no;    we  never  had   any  chance. 


"We  had  no  gunners  to  compare  with  the 
Kearsarge's.  Our  gunners  tired  by  rou- 
tine, and  when  they  had  the  gun  loaded, 
fired  it  off  blind.  They  never  changed  the 
elevation  of  their  guns  all  through  the 
fight,  and  the  Kearsarge  was  working  up 
to  us  all  the  while,  taking  advantage  of 
every  time  she  was  hid  by  smoke  to  work 
a  little  nearer,  and  then  her  gunners  took 
aim  for  every  shot." 

"  Then  it  isn't  true  that  the  Alabama 
tried  to  board  the  Kearsarge  ?  " 

"No,  sir/  She  did  her  best  to  get 
away  from  her  from  the  time  the  fight 
commenced.  We  knew  well  that  if  we 
got  in  range  of  her  Dahlgren  howitzers 
she  would  sink  us  in  ten  minutes." 

"  But  don't  you  believe  that  Semmes 
supposed  he  would  whip  the  Kearsarge 
when  he  went  out  to  fight  her  ?  " 

"No;  he  was  bullied  into  it,  and  took 
good  care  to  leave  all  his  valuables  on 
shore,  and  had  a  life  preserver  on  through 
the  fight.  I  saw  him  put  it  on,  and  I 
thought  if  it  was  wise  in  him  it  wouldn't 
be  foolish  in  me,  and  I  put  on  one  too. 
"When  Semmes  saw  that  the  ship  was 
going  down,  he  told  us  all  to  swim  who 
could,  and  was  one  of  the  first  to  jump 
into  the  water,  and  we  all  made  for  the 
Deerhound.  I  was  a  long  way  ahead  of 
Semmes,  and,  when  I  came  up  to  the 
Deerhound's  boat,  they  asked  me  if  I  was 
Semmes,  before  they  would  take  me  in.  I 
said  I  wasn't,  and  then  thej'  asked  me 
what  I  was  on  the  Alabama.  Said  I,  No 
matter  Avhat  I  wns  on  the  Alabama,  I  shall 
be  a  dead  man  soon  if  you  don't  take  me 


m 


)) 


0. 


ADMIRAL    FARRAGUT'S   ACHIEVEMENTS    AT    NEW    OR- 
LEANS IN  1802,  AND  AT  MOBILE  BAY  IN  18G4  ;  AND 
ADMIRAL    l^ORTER'S    CROWNING    VICTORY 
IN    1805,  AT    FORT    FISHER.— 1804. 


His  Astonishing  Feat  of  Running  Past  the  Confederate  Batteries  — Fierce  and  Sanguinary  Contest 
between  tlie  Admiral's  Flagslilp,  tlie  Hartford,  and  Admiral  Buchanan's  Monster  Ham,  the  Ten- 
nessee.— The  Latter  Proves  Herself,  for  a  Time,  a  Match  lor  the  Whole  Union  Fleet. — Farragut's 
Overwhelming  Victory. — Farragut  Pressed  to  Join  the  South. — His  Unswerving  Fidelity  to  the  Old 
Flag. — High  Trust  Committed  to  Him. — Sailing  of  His  Great  Fleet. — Bold  and  Successful  Plan  of 
Battle. — .Admiral  Porter's  Splendid  Services — Forts  Jackson  and  St.  Philip  Wrecked. — New  Orleans 
Again  Under  the  United  States  Flag. — Another  Tlieater  of  Naval  Operations. — Forts,  Rams,  Iron- 
Ciads,  etc.,  to  Fight — Powerful  Build  of  the  Tenne.«see. — Makes  for  Her  Antagonist  at  Full  Speed. — 
Intended  Running  Down  of  the  Hartford. —  Farragut's  Masterly  Maneuvers — Unexpecteii  Feature  in 
His  Tactics. — Deailly  Contact  of  the  Various  Oaft — Tremendous  Cannonade. — The  "Glory"  and 
Horrors  of  War. — Stuhhorn  Bravery  of  the  Great  Ram — Crippled  at  Last:  The  White  Flag. — The 
Stars  and  Stripes  on  Her  Staff. — Buchanan  Yields  His  Sword. 


"Admiral  for  admiral— flagship  for  flagship— I'll  fight  him!"— Farragut,  os  the  Approach  of  the  Tennessee. 


EARS  before  the  breaking  out  of  the  civil  war  between  the  national  govern^ 

^3=.    ment  and  the  Southern  states,  in  the  spring  of  1861,  the  name  of  David  G. 

.  Farragut  was  one  of  the  most  illustrious   on  the  roll  of  the  United  States 

Navy,  for  those  sterling  qualities,  both  as  a 
man  and  officer,  whicli  command  universal 
respect.  Having  in  mind,  therefore,  his  South- 
ern birth,  and  liis  presumed  sympatliy  with 
the  disunion  movement  for  a  Southern  confed- 
eracy^, he  was  invited  by  those  representing  the 
latter  cause  to  join  his  fortune  to  theirs.  He 
promptly  declined.  The  effort  to  change  his 
purpose  was  repeated.  He  was  urged  by  every 
consideration  that  it  was  supj^osed  could  influ- 
ence his  action,  to  side  with  his  native  south  ; 
he  still  refused.  The  men  who  made  these 
proposals  well  knew  Farragut.  They  knew 
him  better  than  his  own  government  then  did, 
— knew  the  lion-like  qualities  that  slumbered 
beneath  his  modest  and  habitually  retiring 
demeanor,  and  the  achievements  of  which  he 
was  capable  when  the  latent  powers  of  the 
man  should  be  roused  to  active  energy.  As  a 
last  effort  to  win  him  over,  they  offered  him 
any  position  which  he  should  be  pleased  to 
name.     This  mercenary  assault  upon  his  loy- 


FARRAGCT'S  FLAG-SUif  "  HAltlFORD. 


860 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


alty  was  more  than  liis  nature  could  endure, 
and,  with  a  sudden  and  sailor-like  burst  of 
indignation,  he  replied,  as  he  pointed  to 
the  emblem  of  the  republic,  which  floated 
near  him, — 

"  Gentlemen,  your  efforts  are  useless. 
I  tell  you  I  would  see  every  man  of  you 

,  before  I  would  raise  my  arm  against 

that  flag  ! " 

That  flag  he  nobly  upheld  in  more  than 
one  fierce  conflict,  daring  the  ensuing 
four  years,  conferring  the  brightest  and 
widest  luster  on  his  country's  renown, 
and  sharing,  with  his  eminent  colleagues, 
Porter,  Foote,  Dupont,  Gillmore,  Golds- 
borough,  Bailey,  Boggs,  Worden,  Wins- 
low,  and  others,  the  honors  of  a  grateful 
country. 

Before  presenting  the  narrative  of  his 
superb  achievements  in  Mobile  harbor,  in 
1864,  some  account  of  the  brilliant  and 
terrible  operations  on  the  Mississippi,  in 
the  spring  of  1862,  will  be  interesting. 
Knowing  the  qualifications  of  Farragut, 
the  government  put  him  at  the  head  of 
the  great  naval  expedition  which,  in  con- 
junction with  General  Butler's  army,  was 
to  undertake  the  capture  of  New  Orleans. 
This  task  he  prosecuted  in  a  manner 
which  fully  justified  the  confidence  reposed 
in  his  indomitable  heroism  and  splendid 
executive  abilities,  and  the  prize  obtained 
M^as  one  of  the  richest  and  most  important 
ever  presented  by  a  victorious  chieftain  to 
a  grateful  and  admiring  countiy. 

It  was  on  the  17th  of  April,  1862,  that 
the  mortar  fleet  of  Commodore  Porter — 
one  of  the  bravest  captains  that  ever  trod 
a  man-of-war's  deck — began  the  bombard- 
ment of  Forts  Jackson  and  St.  Philip, 
and,  on  the  24th,  Commodore  Farragut, 
with  his  entire  fleet,  ran  past  the  forts, 
encountering  a  fire  almost  unparalleled  in 
severity,  a  fleet  of  gun-boats,  including 
several  iron-clads,  fire-rafts,  obstructions 
and  torpedoes  innumerable.  The  mortar 
fleet  rained  down  shells  on  Fort  Jackson, 
to  try  and  keep  the  men  from  the  guns, 
whilst  the  steamers  of  the  mortar  fleet 
poured  in  shrapnel  uj)on  the  water-battery 
commanding  the  approach,  at  a  short  dis- 


tance, keeping  them  comparatively  quiet. 
The  squadron  was  formed  in  three  lines  to 
pass  the  forts,  the  divisions  being  led, 
respectively,  by  Farragut,  Bailey,  and 
Bell. 

Perfect  success  attended  the  flag-ofiicer's 
boldly  executed  plan  of  battle  Fort  Jack- 
son became  a  perfect  wreck  ;  everything  in 
the  shape  of  a  building  in  and  about  it 
was  burned  up  by  the  mortar  shells,  and 
over  eighteen  hundred  shells  fell  in  the 
work  proper,  to  say  nothing  of  those  which 
burst  over  and  went  around.  It  was  an 
exciting  scene  when,  on  the  morning  of 
the  24th,  that  signal  "to  advance"  was 
thrown  out  from  the  flag-ship.  The  Ca- 
yuga led  on  the  column.  They  were  dis- 
covered at  the  boom,  and  a  little  beyond 
both  forts  opened  fire.  When  close  up 
with  St.  Philip,  Bailey  opened  with  grape 
and  canister,  still  steering  on  ;  and  after 
passing  this  line  of  fire,  he  encountered 
the  "  Montgomery'  flotilla,"  consisting  of 
eighteen  gun-boats,  including  the  ram  ]\Ia- 
nassas,  and  iron-battery  Louisiana.  This 
was  a  moment  of  anxiety,  as  no  supporting 
ship  was  in  sight.  By  skillful  steering, 
hoAvever,  their  attempts  to  butt  and  board 
were  avoided,  and  after  forcing  three  of 
them  to  surrender,  aid  came  very  oppor- 
tunely from  the  Varuna,  Captain  Boggs, 
and  the  Oneida,  Captain  Lee. 

The  Cayuga  received  most  of  the  first 
fire,  but  was  not  severel}-  damaged.  On 
her  falling  back,  the  flag-ship  Hartfoi'd 
took  her  place.  The  latter  had  only  two 
guns — which  were  placed  on  the  tojD-gal- 
lant  forecastle — that  could  bear  on  the 
enemy  until  within  half  a  mile.  The 
Hartford  now  sheered  off,  and  gave  forth 
a  most  terrible  fire.  The  Pensacola  ran 
up  after  a  while,  and  dealt  with  the  star- 
board battery,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the 
Bi'ooklyn  ranged  up  and  did  gallant 
service.  The  passing  of  Forts  Jackson 
and  St.  Philip,  Farragut  describes  as  one 
of  the  most  awful  sights  and  events  he 
ever  witnessed.  The  smoke  was  so  dense 
that  it  was  only  now  and  then  anything 
could  be  seen  but  the  flash  of  the  cannon 
and  the  fire-shii^s  or  rafts,  one  of  which 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


861 


was  pushed  down  upon  the  Havtford  by 
the  ram  Manassas.  In  his  effort  to  avoid 
this,  Farragut  ran  his  ship  on  sliore,  and 
then  the  fire-raft  was  pushed  alongside, — 
the  shij)  in  a  moment  being  one  blaze  all 
along  the  port  side,  half-way  up  to  the 
main  and  mizzen  tops.  But,  by  adroit 
management,  the  tlames  were  extinguished, 
and  the  Hartford  backed  ol^  and  got  clear 
of  the  raft.  But  all  this  time  she  was 
pouring  shells  into  the  forts,  and  they  into 
her.     At  length   the  fire    slackened,   the 


then  sent  on  board  of  her,  but  she  was 
riddled  and  deserted,  and  after  a  while  she 
drifted  down  the  stream,  full  of  water, — 
the  last  of  eleven  that  the  union  army  had 
destroyed.  The  larger  ram,  at  Fort  Jack- 
son, was  subsequently  blown  up.  On  the 
28th,  General  Butler  landed  above  Fort 
St.  Philip,  under  the  guns  of  the  Missis- 
sippi and  the  Kineo. 

So  desperate  was  the  proposed  attempt 
to  run  past  Forts  Jackson  and  St.  Philip 
regarded  at  the  time,  that  some   French 


smoke  cleared  off,  and  the  forts  had  been 
passed.  Here  and  there  was  a  confeder- 
ate gun-boat  on  fire,  trying  to  make  their 
escape,  but  they  were  fired  into  and  rid- 
dled and  soon  became  wrecks.  The  Mis- 
sissippi and  the  Manassas  made  a  set  at 
each  other  at  full  speed,  and  when  they 
were  within  thirty  or  forty  yards,  the  ram 
dodged  the  Mississippi  and  ran  on  sliore, 
when  the  latter  poured  her  broadside  into 
her,  knocked  away  her  smoke-stack,  and 


and  English  officers,  who  had  been  to  New 
Orleans  and  inspected  the  fortifications, 
pronounced  such  an  undertaking  abso- 
lutely insane.  Nor  were  they  alone  in 
their  military  opinion  of  its  rashness  and 
impossibility.  It  is  related  that  when 
that  brave  veteran,  Commodore  Goldsbor- 
ough,  first  heard  the  news  of  Farragut's 
exploit, — communicated  to  him  by  a  news- 
]iaper  correspondent  who  boarded  the 
Minnesota  at  Fortress  Monroe,  while  on 


862 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


his  way  north  with  dispatches,  —  some- 
thing like  the  following  conversation  took 
place  : 

"Commodore,"  said  the  correspondent, 
"  I  have  the  pleasure  of  informing  you 
that  Commodore  Farragut  has  run  past 
Forts  Philip  and  Jackson  with  his  fleet, 
and  taken  New  Orleans." 

''  Run  past  the  batteries  ?  "  exclaimed 
Commodore  Goldsborough. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  It's  not  true,  sir  —  it's  a  lie  !  It 
couldn't  be  done." 

A  blunt  and  sailor-like  demand  for  the 
unconditional  surrender  of  the  city  was 
made  upon  Mayor  Monroe, — a  demand 
which,  of  course,  he  was  in  no  condition 
to  resist ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  the 
venerable  national  flag  was  floating  over 
the  city  hall,  the  mint,  and  the  custom- 
house, and,  at  the  same  time,  all  flags 
emblematic  of  any  other  sovereignty  than 
that  of  the  United  States  were  instantly 
removed,  and  never  reappeared. 

It  was  in  the  early  part  of  August, 
1864,  however,  that  the  country  was  elec- 
trified by  that  signal  achievement  by  Far- 
ragut, in  Mobile  Bay,  which  placed  him  in 
the  very  foremost  rank  among  the  naval 
heroes  of  modern  times.  Guarded  at  its 
entrance  by  two  imposing  fortifications,  of 
immense  strength,  the  bay  also  floated  at 
this  time  a  formidable  naval  fleet,  under  tlie 
command  of  Admiral  Buchanan,  one  of 
the  ablest  officers  in  the  confederate  serv- 
ice. For  a  long  time,  Farragut  watched 
for  his  opportunity,  and  it  came  at  last, 
under  circumstances  the  most  favorable, 
as  the  result  i)roved,  for  union  success. 

From  the  official  reports,  and  the  vari- 
ous accounts  furnished  by  the  reporters 
for  the  press,  the  following  sketch  of  this 
celebrated  achievement  is  prepared.  For 
some  months,  Farragut — now  holding  the 
rank  of  Rear-Admiral — had  commanded  the 
United  States  blockading  fleet  off  Mobile, 
and  it  was  with  some  impatience  that  he 
awaited  the  means  necessary  to  justify 
him  in  moving  up  and  attacking  the 
defenses  of  the  city.  Knowing  the  disad- 
vantage   of    attacking   iron-cased   vessels 


with  wooden  ones,  and  that,  too,  in  the 
face  and  under  the  guns  of  heavy  fortresses, 
without  a  co-operating  land  force,  he  de- 
ferred the  movement  until  those  essential 
helps  were  provided,  though  holding  him- 
self in  readiness  to  meet,  at  any  time,  the 
fleet  of  Buchanan,  should  it  venture  out. 

In  the  summer,  Farragut  found  himself 
in  command  of  four  iron-clads  and  four- 
teen wooden  ships-of-war,  aided  by  a  small 
land  force  under  Gen.  Gordon  Granger. 
On  the  morning  of  August  5th,  therefore, 
all  things  being  ready,  he  went  up  the 
bay,  passing  between  Forts  INIorgan  and 
Gaines,  and  encountering  the  formidable 
confederate  ram  Tennessee,  and  also  the 
gun-boats  of  the  enemy,  Selma,  ^Morgan, 
and  Gaines.  The  attacking  fleet  was 
under  way  by  quarter  before  six  in  the 
morning,  in  the  following  order:  The 
Brooklyn,  with  the  Octorara  on  her  port 
side ;  Hartford,  with  the  Metacomet ; 
Richmond,  with  the  Port  Royal  ;  Lacka- 
wanna, with  the  Seminole ;  Monongahela, 
with  theTecumseh  ;  Ossipee,  with  theltas» 
CO  ;  and  the  Oneida,  with  the  Galena.  On 
the  starboard  of  the  fleet  was  the  proper 
position  of  the  monitors  or  iron-clads. 
The  wind  was  light  from  the  south-west, 
and  the  sky  cloudy,  with  very  little  sun. 
Fort  Morgan  opened  upon  them  at  ten 
minutes  past  seven,  and  soon  after  this 
the  action  became  lively.  As  they  steamed 
up  the  main  ship  channel,  there  was  some 
difficulty  ahead,  and  the  Hartford  passed 
on  ahead  of  the  Brooklyn.  At  twentj'  min- 
utes before  eight,  the  Tecumseh  was  struck 
by  a  torpedo  and  sunk,  going  down  very 
rapidly,  and  carrjn'ng  down  with  her  all 
the  officers  and  crew,  with  the  exception 
of  the  pilot  and  eight  or  ten  men,  who 
were  saved  by  a  boat  sent  from  the  Meta- 
comet. 

The  Hartford  liad  passed  the  forts  before 
eight  o'clock,  and,  finding  himself  raked 
by  the  confederate  gun-boats,  Farragut 
ordered  the  Metacomet  to  cast  off  and  go 
in  pursuit  of  them,  one  of  which,  the 
Selma,  she  succeeded  in  capturing.  All 
the  vessels  had  passed  the  forts  by  half- 
past    eight,     but     the     confederate     ram 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


863 


Tennessee  was  still  apparently  uninjured, 
in  the  rear  of  the  union  vessels.  A  signal 
was  at  once  made  to  all  the  fleet  to  turn 
again  and  attack  the  ram,  not  only  with 
guns,  but  to  run  her  down  at  full  speed. 
The  IMonongahela  was  the  first  that  struck 
her,  but  did  not  succeed  in  disabling  her. 
The  Lackawanna  also  struck  her,  but  inef- 
fectually. The  llag-ship  gave  her  a  severe 
shock  with  her  bow,  and  as  she  passed 
poured  into  her  a  whole  port  broadside  of 
solid  nine-inch  shot  and  thirteen  pounds 
of  powder,  at  a  distance  of  not  more  than 
twelve  feet.  The  iron-clads  were  closing 
on  her,  and  the  Hartford  and  the  rest  of 
the  fleet  were  bearing  down  upon  her, 
when,  at  ten  o'clock,  she  surrendered. 
The  rest  of  the  confederate  fleet,  namely, 
the  Morgan  and  the  Gaines,  succeeded  in 
getting  back  under  the  protection  of  Fort 
Morgan.  This  terminated  the  action  of 
the  day.  Admiral  Buchanan  was  himself 
badly  wounded  with  a  compound  fracture 
of  the  leg. 

On  the  following  day,  one  of  the  iron- 
clads shelled  Fort  Gaines,  and  with  such 
effect,  that  Colonel  Anderson,  the  com- 
mander, sent  a  communication  to  Farra- 
gut,  offering  to  surrender.  General  Gran- 
ger, commanding  the  military  forces,  was 
sent  for,  and  the  terms  of  capitulation 
were  signed  by  the  res[)ective  parties  on 
board  of  the  Hartford.  From  this  time 
onward,  movements  were  in  progress  for 
capturing  Fort  Morgan,  and,  on  the  22d 
of  August,  at  day  dawn,  a  bombardment 
was  opened  from  the  shore  batteries,  the 
monitors  and  ships  inside,  and  the  vessels 
outside  the  ba3^  At  six  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  August  23d,  a  white  flag  was 
displayed  by  the  confederates,  and,  at  two 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  fort  was  un- 
conditionally surrendered  to  the  navy  and 
army  of  the  United  States.  Fort  Powell 
had  been  already  attacked  on  the  night  of 
the  fifth,  and  blown  up. 

With  what  spirit  the  fierce  and  sangnin- 
inary  conflict  between  the  Tennessee  and 
Hartford  was  carried  on,  may  be  judged 
from  the  fact,  that,  when  it  was  reported 
to  Farragut    that   the  monster  was  bear- 


ing down  upon  him,  he  hastened  on  deck 
with  the  remark — 

''  He  is  after  me  !  let  him  come  on  if  it 
must  be  so;  admiral  for  admiral — flag- 
ship for  flag-sliip — r II  f  gilt  liim,  !  " 

The  Tennessee  was  close  at  hand,  and 
coming  with  all  her  speed  directly  at  the 
Hartford,  evidently  with  the  intention  of 
running  her  down.  Farragut  mounted  to 
the  maintop  and  surveyed  his  ground, 
arranging  hastily  his  plan  of  battle.  This 
settled  quietly  in  his  own  mind,  he  awaited 
the  approach  of  the  monster.  Perfect 
quiet  prevailed  on  board  the  Hartford ; 
not  a  gun  was  fired  ;  no  crew  was  to  be 
seen  ;  her  broadside  lay  plumply  exposed 
to  the  tremendous  blow  the  Tennessee  was 
hastening  to  give.  But,  suddenly,  there 
was  a  change  ! 

When  the  monster  had  approached  near 
enough  to  answer  the  purpose  which  Far- 
ragut had  in  view,  the  helm  of  the  Hart- 
ford was  put  hard  a  port,  her  machinery 
started,  she  described  a  segment  of  a  circle, 
and,  just  as  Buchanan  had  thought  to 
strike  her  squarely  amidship  and  cut  her 
in  two, — as  he  was  capable  of  doing, — the 
towering  brow  of  the  noble  old  ship  struck 
him  a  tremendous  blow  on  his  port  quarter 
forward,  that  knocked  every  man  aboard 
his  craft  off  his  feet.  The  force  of  the 
collision  checked  the  headway  of  both  ves- 
sels. The  blow  given  by  the  Hartford 
was  a  glancing  one,  and  the  two  vessels 
came  up  broadside  to  broadside.  At  this 
moment,  a  full  broadside  from  the  Hart- 
ford was  let  go  at  her  antagonist,  but  it 
was  like  throwing  rubber  balls  against  a 
brick  wall, — nine-inch  solid  shot  though 
they  were,  and  fired  from  the  muzzles  of 
her  guns  scarcely  t^Yelve  feet  distant. 
Simultaneously,  Buchanan  also  discharged 
his  broadside  of  four  Brookes's  rifles,  which 
passed  completely  through  the  Hartford, 
and  expended  their  force  in  the  water 
be3'ond. 

The  Tennessee  immediately  put  on 
steam  again,  and  started  to  try  her  strength 
with  some  other  of  the  wooden  vessels. 
The  Brooklyn  lay  nearest,  and  for  that 
ship  she  headed.     Here  she  was  met  with 


864 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


almost  precisely  the  same  reception  as 
■with  the  Hartford.  Instead  of  butting 
she  received  a  butt — both  vessels  came 
together,  broadside  to  broadside ;  both 
broadsides  were  discharged,  and  the  ram 
went  on  her  way  to  try  another,  and 
another, — and  all  of  them, — but  with  no 
better  success. 

She  now  started  to  run  back  through 
the  fleet,  but  here  a  new  combination 
awaited  her.  TJie  viovitors  had  conu'  iip  ! 
— the  appearance  of  which  seemed  for  a 
moment  to  disconcert  the  monster.  From 
the  first,  he  had  shown  a  wholesome  dread 


he  signaled  to  the  whole  fleet.  The  little 
monitor  Manhattan  appeared  directly  in 
front  of  the  ram,  to  head  him  off.  The 
rest  of  the  fleet  formed  a  circle  about  the 
monster,  and  all  commenced  paj'ing  him 
their  heaviest  compliments.  It  was  a  ter- 
rible fire — every  ball  that  struck  the  union 
vessels  did  execution,  making  groat  holes 
in  their  sides  and  reddening  their  decks 
with  blood;  but  every  shot  that  struck  the 
Tennessee  glanced  away  like  a  rubber  ball. 
To  meet  the  exigency  at  this  critical  state 
of  affairs,  Farragut's  vessels  were  put  in 
motion,  describing  a  circle  about  the  mon- 


0^'ION  NAVAL  VICTOIIY,   IN   MOBIL K  BAY. 


of  them,  and  by  skillful  maneuvering  and 
his  greater  speed  had  managed  to  avoid 
them.  Now  they  hammered  him  to  the 
utmost  of  their  ability.  The  three  had 
managed  each  to  get  a  position  in  a  differ- 
ent direction  from  each  other,  and  which- 
ever way  the  ram  turned  he  met  these 
ugly  and  invincible  foes.  At  first  he  was 
shy,  and  seemed  irresolute  as  to  what 
course  to  pursue,  but  finally  seemed  deter- 
mined to  got  out  of  the  bad  scrape  by  run- 
ning through  the  fleet  back  to  the  friendly 
protection  of  Fort  Morgan. 

Now,    then.    Admiral     Farragut's   fine 
tactics  developed  themselves,   and  which 


ster,  the  sloops  and  monitors  being  directed 
to  ram  her  every  time  they  came  around, 
which  was  done  with  deadly  effect.  Each 
vessel  chased  its  leader  about,  throwing  a 
broadside  at  the  enemy  at  every  opportun- 
ity, and  at  every  chance  getting  a  ball  at 
her. 

In  this  way  the  plucky  fellow  was  ter- 
ribly i;sed.  Every  time  one  of  the  sloops 
came  on  to  the  Tennessee,  the  concussion 
was  such  as  to  throw  the  crew  of  the  mon- 
ster off  their  feet.  The  frequency  with 
which  she  was  thus  rammed,  and  the  con- 
tinuous artillery  fire  that  was  rained  upon 
her,    so    demoralized   her  men,  that  they 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


865 


are  said  to  have  begged  to  surrender,  fear- 
ing, at  eveiy  new  shock,  that  they  would 
be  sent  to  the  bottom.  The  course  pur- 
sued by  the  vessels  was  cuch  that  the  ram 
was  unable  to  get  range  upon  any  of  them 
so  as  to  run  them  down,  thus  compelling 
the  ram  to  remain  passive.  Or,  if  she 
attempted  to  escape  the  tormentors,  an 
unlooked  for  enemy  would  come  and  strike 
her  on  the  quarter,  and  throw  her  out  of 
her  course.  During  this  melee,  the  Man- 
hattan got  one  good  shot  in  directly  at  the 
ram's  broadside.  The  huge  ball  of  iron 
struck  fairly  at  the  lower  angle  of  the 
heavy  casemates  and  penetrated  into  the 
inside,  spending  its  force  in  the  effort. 
This  was  the  only  shot  that  ever  passed 
through  her  iron.  Against  such  odds  in 
number,  such  cannonading  and  punching 
and  entanglement,  the  ram  could  not  con- 
tinue ;  and  so  the  formidable  craft — her 
smoke-stack  shot  away,  her  steering  chains 
gone,  several  of  her  port-shutters  so  jam- 
med by  the  shot  that  they  could  not  be 
opened,  and  one  of  them  battered  to 
fragments,  with  the  Chickasaw  boring 
away  at  her  stern,  and  four  other  great 
vessels  coming  at  her  full  speed — finally 
succumbed,  after  a  fight  of  somewhat  more 
than  an  hour. 

On  its  being  reported  to  Admiral  Far- 
ragut  that  the  Tennessee  had  duly  sur- 
rendered, and  that  Admiral  Buchanan 
was  wounded,  he  sent  a  staff  officer  off  to 
receive  the  confederate  admiral's  sword. 
Some  one  asked  Farragut  if  he  would  not 
go  off  himself  and  see  Buchanan.  The 
former  merely  replied,  "  No,  sir,  he  is  my 
enemy."  Subsequently,  when  the  staff 
officer  returned,  with  Buchanan's  sword, 
it  was  represented  to  the  admiral  that 
Buchanan  had  expressed  a  wish  to  see 
him.  "  Well,  sir,  he  shan't  see  me  ! " 
replied  the  old  Salamander.  Then,  look- 
ing with  most  concentrated  expression  of 
countenance  upon  the  bloody  decks  of  his 
ship,  he  added — 

"  I  suppose  he  would  be  friends  ;  but 
with  these  brave  men,  my  comrades,  man- 
gled, dying  and  dead  about  me,  and, 
looking  upon  the  destruction  caused 
55 


in  the  fleet,  I  can  only  consider  him  an 
enemy." 

On  the  staff  officer  getting  on  board. 
Admiral  Buchanan  was  found  to  be  severely 
wounded  in  the  leg.  He  yielded  with  a 
very  bad  grace — in  fact,  it  was  said  that, 
after  receiving  his  wound,  he  gave  orders 
to  his  next  in  command  to  continue  the 
fight  as  long  as  there  was  a  man  left ;  and 
then,  when  he  found  he  could  do  no  more, 
to  run  the  vessel  ashore  and  blow  her  up. 
But  there  was  no  alternative — the  ram 
must  be  surrendered  ;  and  this  was  done. 
The  stars  and  stripes  were  hoisted  upon 
the  staff  of  the  magnificent  ram — truly 
one  of  the  most  powerful  and  perfectly 
constructed  of  her  class — greeted,  as  they 
went  up,  by  the  hearty  and  long-continued 
cheers  of  the  whole  fleet. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  devotion  of 
Admiral  Farragut's  men  to  their  com- 
mander. Thus,  after  the  Hartford  had 
hauled  off  from  her  fierce  assault  upon  the 
Tennessee,  and  as  she  was  again  pointed 
fair  for  another  blow,  and  thunderingly 
going  down  upon  her  to  dash  into  her  a 
second  time, — suddenly,  to  the  surprise  of 
all,  the  Hartford  was  herself  tremendously 
struck  by  one  of  the  heaviest  union  vessels 
which  was  also  coming  down  upon  the  con- 
federate monster,  and  it  was  thought  for  a 
brief  moment,  so  fearful  was  the  blow, 
that  she  must  go  down.  Immediately, 
and  high  above  the  din  of  battle,  hoarse, 
anxious  voices  were  heard  crying — 

"  The  admiral  !  the  admiral  I  save  the 
adviiral!  Get  the  admiral  out  of  the 
ship  !  " 

The  brave  men  titterly  forgot  them- 
selves— thought  not  a  moment  of  their 
own  safety,  but  only  of  their  glorious  old 
admiral.  Nothing,  certainly,  could  better 
illustrate  the  attachment  and  devotion  of 
the  whole  squadron  for  their  admiral  than 
this.  When  they  themselves  were  in 
imminent  peril  of  death,  they  only  cared 
for  him  !  Finding  the  vessel  would  float, 
notwithstanding  the  possible  serious  re- 
sults ultimately,  the  brave  old  admiral 
turned  to  his  gallant  fleet-captain  with  the 
order — 


866 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


"  Go  on  with  speed  !     Ram  her  again  !  " 

Onward  the  Hartford  sped,  determined 
to  '  do  and  die/  if  need  be  ;  hut,  just  before 
she  reached  her,  the  white  flag  of  surren- 
der was  hoisted  above  the  discomfited 
Tennessee,  and  soon  all  the  victory,  over 
one  of  the  bravest  of  foes,  was  with  Far- 
ragut  and  his  noble  men. 

A  little  incident  in  this  contest  may 
also  be  cited  here,  as  illustrating  his  high 
personal  qualities  as  a  man  and  officer, — 
exhibiting,  too,  as  it  does,  one  of  the 
secrets  of  his  courage  and  self-command, 
no  matter  what  the  stress  or  pressure  of 
circumstances  around  him : 

"Admiral,"  said  one  of  his  officers,  the 
night  before  the  battle,  "  won't  you  con- 
sent to  give  Jack  a  glass  of  grog  in  the 
morning — not  enough  to  make  him  drunk, 
but  just  enough  to  make  him  fight  cheer- 
fully ?  " 

"  Well,"  replied  the  admiral,  ''  I  have 
been  to  sea  considerable,  and  have  seen  a 
battle  or  two,  but  I  have  never  found  that 
I  wanted  rum  to  enable  me  to  do  my 
duty.  I  will  order  two  cups  of  good  coffee 
to  each  man,  at  two  o'clock,  and  at  eight 
o'clock  I  will  pipe  all  hands  to  breakfast 
in  Mobile  Bay." 

The  descriptions  of  this  great  naval 
action  usuall}'  represent  Admiral  Farra- 
gut  as  having  tied  himself  among  the  rig- 
ging, or  at  the  mast-head,  of  his  ship,  and 
there  observing  the  battle  and  giving  his 
directions.  Concerning  this,  he  was  on  a 
subsequent  occasion  inquired  of  by  one  of 
the  gentle  sex,  as  follows : 

"Admiral,"  said  the  lady,  "  do  tell  me  if 
it  was  true,  as  they  said,  that  you  were 
lashed  to  the  mast,  down  at  Mobile  Bay  ?  " 

"All  !  "  said  the  admiral,  good  natur- 
edly,  "I'll  tell  you  all  about  tliat.  You 
know  that  in  a  fight  the  smoke  of  the  guns 
lies  on  the  water,  and,  naturally,  I  would 
want  to  see  over  it,  to  know  what  was 
going  on.  Well,  I  would  jump  upon  a 
box  —  so  high  "  (indicating  with  his 
hand)  ;  then  I  would  got  up  a  little 
higher ;  and  by-and-by  I  got  up  to  where 
they  said.  I  suppose  I  was  two  hours  get- 
ting as  high  as  that.     I  had  a  little  rope 


that  I  lashed  around  me,  just  to  keep  from 
falling,  in  case  I  should  get  hurt.  Every 
one,  you  know,  is  liable  to  get  hurt  in  a 
fight." 

Up  to  the  time  of  the  surrender  of  Fort 
Morgan,  the  union  loss  in  all  was  one  ship 
sunk  by  a  'torpedo,  one  burned  through 
infraction  of  orders,  and  three  hundred 
and  thirtj^  men  killed  and  wounded,  half 
of  whom  were  killed  by  drowning  or  the 
fire  of  the  enemy.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  unionists  took  about  fifteen  hundred 
prisoners,  captured  the  two  best  vessels  of 
the  confederates,  forced  them  to  burn  the 
gun-boat  Gaines,  and  drove  the  rest  of 
their  fleet  beyond.  Three  forts,  with 
one  hundred  guns  of  lieav}-  caliber,  with  all 
their  material,  were  unconditionally  sur- 
rendered to  the  victors.  The  United 
States  steamer  Oneida  suffered  more  than 
any  other  vessel. 

The  ram  Tennessee  varied  somewhat  in 
form  from  the  grim  old  Merrimac,  Bu- 
chanan's first  monster.  The  Tennessee's 
armor  consisted  of  two  and  a  half  inch 
iron,  in  bars  eight  inches  wide,  crossing 
each  other,  and  bolted  down  with  one  and 
three-quarter  inch  bolts,  making  five  inches 
of  solid  iron.  This  again  was  backed  by 
two  feet  of  solid  oak  throughout  the  entire 
jiortion  of  the  boat  above  the  water-line, 
and  extending  some  feet  even  below  that. 
From  her  forward  casemates  forward,  in- 
cluding her  pilot-house,  an  additional  inch 
of  iron  was  given  her,  making  six  inches 
of  plating,  and  an  additional  foot,  making 
three  feet  of  wooden  backing,  at  this  part 
of  the  boat.  What  may  be  called  her  gun- 
room occupied  about  two-thirds  of  her 
length,  and  was  constructed  with  a  flat 
top,  composed  of  two  and  a  half  by  eight- 
inch  iron  bars,  crossed  and  bolted  together, 
forming  a  close  lattice-work  above  her 
gunners,  and  affording  ventilation  while 
in  action.  Her  ports,  two  on  either  side, 
and  one  fore  and  aft,  were  closed  by 
means  of  iron  shutters,  which  revolved 
upon  a  pivot  in  the  center  of  one  side, 
and  were  worked  by  means  of  a  cog-wheel 
on  the  inside,  in  a  very  simple  and  expe- 
ditious  manner.     In  all  her  qualities  of 


GREAT  AND  IVIEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


867 


construction  and  equipment,  the  Tennessee 
was  one  of  the  most  formidable  craft  that 
ever  floated. 

In  close  connection  with  this  vast  and 
splendid  series  of  achievements,  and  as 
having  a  direct  bearing  upon  the  victori- 
ous ending  of  the  war  by  the  valor  of  the 
navy.  —  in  which  operations  the  brave 
Admiral  Porter  exhibited  his  distinguish- 
ing characteristics  of  unquailing  courage 
and  consummate  judgment,  and  whose 
magnificent  services  would  have  long  since 
elevated  him  to  the  chief  magistracy  of 
his  country,  but  for  the  traditionally  dis- 
proportionate influence  of  the  army  in 
national  politics  and  counsels, — the  cap- 
ture of  Fort  Fisher,  N.  C,  deserves  to  be 
here  recorded. 

According  to  the  official  report,  this 
expedition,  under  the  joint  command  of 
Admiral  Porter  and  General  Terry,  sailed 
from  Fortress  Monroe  on  the  morning  of 
January  6,  1865,  arriving  in  two  days 
at  the  rendezvous  off  Beaufort,  where, 
owing  to  the  difficulties  of  the  weather,  it 
lay  some  ten  days,  when  it  got  under  way, 
reaching  its  destination  that  evening. 
Under  cover  of  the  fleet,  the  disembarka- 


tion of  the  troops  was  effected  without 
loss.  An  immediate  reconnoissance  was 
pushed  to  within  about  five  hundred  yards 
of  the  fort,  a  small  advance  work  being 
taken  possession  of  and  turned  into  a 
defensive  line,  against  any  attempt  that 
might  be  made  from  the  fort.  This  recon- 
noissance disclosed  the  fact  that  the  front 
of  the  work  had  been  seriously  injured  by 
the  navy  fire.  Not  many  hours,  therefore, 
were  allowed  to  elapse  before  the  fort  was 
assaulted,  and,  after  most  desperate  fight- 
ing, was  captured,  with  its  entire  garrison 
and  armament.  Thus  was  secured,  by 
the  combined  efforts  of  the  navy  and 
army,  what — in  the  language  of  General 
Grant — was  one  of  the  most  hrilUant  and 
important  successes  of  the  tear.  The  fed- 
eral loss  was  one  hundred  and  ten  killed 
and  five  hundred  and  thirty-six  wounded. 
On  the  16th  and  17th,  the  enemy,  well 
knowing  the  nerve  and  prowess  of  Por- 
ter, abandoned  and  blew  up  Fort  Caswell, 
and  their  works  on  Smith's  Island,  which 
were  at  once  occupied  by  the  federal 
forces,  —  thus  giving  to  the  latter  the 
entire  control  of  the  mouth  of  the  Cape 
Fear  river. 


CI. 

GRAND    MARCH    OF   THE  UNION   ARMY,  UNDER    GEN. 
SHERMAN,  THROUGH    THE    SOUTH.— 1864. 


Generals  and  Armies  Baffled,  and  States  and  Cities  Conquered,  Without  a  Serious  Disaster  to  the  Vic- 
tors.— Display  of  Military  Genius  Unsurpassed  in  Any  Age  or  Country. — The  Southern  Confederacy 
Virtually  Crushed  Within  the  Coils  of  this  Wide-Sweeping,  Bold,  and  Resistless  Movement. — The 
Great  Closing  Act  in  the  Campaign. — Sherman's  Qualities  as  a  Commander. — His  Great  Military  Suc- 
cess.— His  Own  Story. — A  Brilliant  Campaign  Planned. — Brave  and  Confident  Troops. —  Atlanta, 
Ga.,  the  First  Great  Prize. — Destroys  that  City :  Starts  for  the  Coast. — Kilpatrick  Leads  the  Cav- 
alry.— Thomas  Defends  the  Border  States. — Successful  Feints  Made  by  Sherman. — Subsists  His 
Men  on  the  Enemy's  Country. — Immense  Sweep  of  the  Onward  Columns. — Savannah's  Doom 
Sealed. — Fall  of  Fort  McAllister. — Christmas  Gift  to  the  President. — Advance  Into  South  Carolina. — 
The  Stars  and  Stripes  in  Her  Capital. — All  Opposition  Powerless. — North  Carolina's  Turn  Next. — 
Swamps,  Hills,  Quagmires,  Storms,  Floods  —  Battles  Fought:  Onward  to  Raleigh. — Johnston's 
Whole  Army  Bagged. — Sherman  Described  Personally. 


"  I  beg  to  present  yoii,  a»  a   Chriptmns  Rift,  the  city  of  SaTannah,  with  one  hundred  and  fifty  heavy  gum,  plenty  of  ammunition,  and 
about  twenty-five  thoUBand  bales  of  cotton."— Gknehal  Sherman  to  Presiukm  Lincoln. 


HEAD-QUARTERS,  ATLANTA,  GA, 


A.LIANT,  resolute,  and  hopeful  as  a  soldier,  Gen- 
eral Sherman  added  to  these  qualities  the  wisdom 

and  genius  of  Washington 
himself  as  a  commander.  His 
March  to  the  Sea  has  been 
universally  pronounced,  both 
in  America  and  Europe,  one 
of  the  most  brilliant  military 
results — especially  Avhen  con- 
sidered in  connection  with  the 
slight  cost  of  life  at  which  it 
was  achieved  —  presented  in 
the  long  and  varied  history  of 


war.  It  was,  in  a  word,  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  important  of  modern  campaigns, 
conducted  with  complete  success,  without  any  considerable  battle.  And  yet  it  was  his 
own  native  sagacity,  more  than  anything  else,  which  enabled  General  Sherman  to 
plan  and  execute  the  vast  undertakings  which  have  crowned  his  name  with  imperisha- 
ble honor.  "  I  have  oftentimes,"  said  General  Sherman,  in  an  address  at  West  Point, 
"been  asked  by  friends  familiar  with  Xenophon,  Hume,  and  Jomini,  in  which  of  these 
books  I  had  learned  the  secret  of  leading  armies  on  long  and  difficult  marches,  and  they 
seemed  surprised  when  I  answered  that  I  was  not  aware  that  I  had  been  influenced  by 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


869' 


any  of  them.  I  told  them  what  I  now  tell 
you,  in  all  simplicity  and  truth,  that,  when 
I  was  a  young  lieutenant  of  artillery,  I  had 
often  hunted  deer  in  the  swamps  of  the 
Edisto,  the  Cooper,  and  the  Santee,  and  had 
seen  with  ray  own  eyes  that  they  could  be 
passed  with  wagons  ;  that  in  the  spring  of 
1844,  I  had  ridden  on  horseback  from 
Marietta,  Ga.,  to  the  valley  of  the  Tennes- 
see, and  back  to  Augusta,  passing  in  my 
course  over  the  very  fields  of  Altoona,  of 
Kenesaw,  and  Atlanta,  where  afterward  it 
fell  to  my  share  to  command  armies  and  to 
utilize  the  knowledge  thus  casually  gained. 
Again,  in  1849  and  1850,  I  was  in  Cali- 
fornia, and  saw  arrive  across  that  wild  belt 
of  two  thousand  miles  of  uninhabitable 
country  the  caravans  of  emigrants,  com- 
posed of  men,  women,  and  children,  who 
reached  their  destination  in  health  and 
strength  ;  and  when  we  used  to  start  on  a 
journey  of  a  thousand  miles,  with  a  single 
blanket  as  covering,  and  a  coil  of  dried 
meat  and  a  sack  of  parched  corn  meal  as 
food  ; — with  this  knowledge  fairly  acquired 
in  actual  experience,  was  there  any  need 
for  me  to  look  back  to  Alexander  the 
Great,  to  Marlborough,  for  examjjles  ? " 
But  to  all  this  kind  of  knowledge — useful, 
doubtless,  in  the  highest  degree,  General 
Sherman  added  the  possession  of  the  most 
commanding  military  genius. 

It  was  early  in  May,  1864,  that  General 
Sherman  began  the  brilliant  series  of  his 
campaigns.  The  first  objective  point  was 
Atlanta.  To  reach  that  city,  his  armies 
had  to  pass  from  the  northern  limit  to  the 
center  of  the  great  state  of  Georgia,  forcing 
their  way  through  mountain  defiles  and 
across  great  rivers,  overcoming  or  turning 
formidably  intrenched  positions  defended 
by  a  strong,  well-appointed  veteran  army, 
commanded  by  an  alert,  cautious,  and  skill- 
ful general.  The  campaign  opened  on  the 
sixth  of  May,  and  on  the  second  of  Septem- 
ber the  national  forces  entered  Atlanta. 

For  some  time  previously  to  the  opening 
movement,  says  General  Sherman's  report, 
the  union  armies  were  lying  in  garrison 
seemingly  quiet,  from  Knoxville  to  Hunts- 
ville,  and  the  enemy  lay  behind  his  rocky- 


faced  barrier  at  Dalton,  proud,  defiant, 
and  exulting.  He  had  had  time  since 
Cliristnuis  to  recover  from  his  discomfiture 
at  Mission  Ridge,  with  his  ranks  filled, 
and  a  new  commander-in-chief,  and  second 
to  none  in  the  confederacy  in  reputation 
for  skill,  sagacity,  and  extreme  popularity. 
All  at  once,  the  union  armies  assumed  life 
and  action,  and  appeared  before  Dalton. 
Threatening  Rocky  Face,  they  threw 
themselves  upon  Resaca,  the  enemy  only 
escaping  by  the  rapidity  of  their  retreat, 
aided  by  the  numerous  roads  with  which 
they  only  were  familiar.  Again  the  con- 
federate army  took  post  in  Altoona,  but 
found  no  rest,  for,  by  a  circuit  towards 
Dallas  and  subsequent  movement  to  Ac- 
worth,  the  union  army  gained  the  Al- 
toona Pass.  Then  followed  the  eventful 
battles  about  Kenesaw,  and  the  escape  of 
the  confederates  across  the  Chattahoochee 
river.  The  crossing  of  the  Chattahoochee 
and  breaking  of  the  Augusta  road  was 
handsomely  executed  by  Sherman's  army. 
It  was  at  this  stage  of  proceedings,  that  the 
confederate  authorities  became  dissatisfied 
with  Johnston  as  commander,  and  selected 
one  more  bold  and  rash, — General  Hood. 
New  tactics  were  adopted  by  the  latter. 
He  first  boldly  and  rapidly,  on  the  twen- 
tieth of  July,  fell  on  the  union  right,  at 
Peach  Tree  creek,  and  lost.  Again,  on 
the  22d,  he  struck  the  extreme  union  left, 
and  was  severely  punished;  and  finally, 
again  on  the  28th,  he  unsuccessfully  re- 
peated the  attempt  on  the  union  right. 
Sherman  slowly  and  gradually  drew  his 
lines  about  Atlanta,  feeling  for  the  rail- 
road which  supplied  the  confederate  army 
and  made  Atlanta  a  place  of  importance. 
The  enemy  met  these  efforts  patiently  and 
skillfully,  but  at  last  Hood  made  the  mis- 
take which  Sherman  had  waited  for  so 
long,  sending  his  cavalry  to  the  union 
rear,  far  beyond  the  reach  of  recall.  In- 
stantly Sherman's  cavalry  was  on  Hood's 
only  remaining  road,  with  the  principal 
army  following  quietly,  and  Atlanta  fell 
into  Sherman's  possession,  as  the  fruit  of 
well-concerted  measures,  backed  by  a  brave 
and  confident  army. 


870 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Hood's  plan  was,  to  force  General  Sher- 
man from  Georgia,  by  cutting  off  his  com- 
munications, and  invading  Tennessee  and 
Kentucky.  Pursuant  to  this  plan,  Hood, 
by  a  rapid  march,  gained  and  broke  up,  at 
Big  Shanty,  the  railroad  that  supplied 
Sherman's  army,  advanced  to  Dalton,  and 
thence  moved  toward  Tennessee.  Hood 
was  followed  from  Atlanta  by  Sherman  far 
enough  north  to  cover  his  own  purpose  and 
assure  him  against  Hood's  interrupting 
the  march  to  the  sea-coast  which  he  had  in 
contemplation.  The  task  of  encountering 
Hood's  formidable  movements,  and  defend- 
ing the  border  states  from  invasion,  was 
intrusted  to  General  Thomas,  who  was 
ably  assisted  by  his  second  in  command, 
General  Schofield. 

It  appears  from  Major  Kichols's  graphic 
diary  of  the  events  connected  with  this 
great  march — the  narrative  of  his  excel- 
lent observations  as  one  of  Sherman's  staff 
officers — that  the  general,  from  his  camp 
at  Gaylesville,  while  awaiting  the  develop- 
ment of  Hood's  design,  sketched  out  the 
march  to  Goldsboro'.  Seated  in  front  of 
his  tent,  towards  the  end  of  October,  1864, 
with  his  generals  around  him,  and  the 
map  of  the  states  spread  on  his  knees 
Sherman  ran  his  finger  over  the  map,  and 
indicated  his  course  to  Savannah.  Then, 
after  pondering  on  the  map  of  South  Car- 
olina, his  finger  restei^  on  Columbia,  and 
looking  up,  he  said— 

"Howard,  I  bel'eve  we  can  go  there, 
without  any  serioas  difficulty.  If  we  can 
cross  the  Salkiihatchie,  we  can  capture 
Columbia." 

After  givir.g  expression  to  this  strik- 
ing strategic  insight.  General  Sherman 
passed  his  finger  quickly  over  rivers, 
swamp3,  and  cities,  to  Goldsboro',  N.  C, 
saying— 

"  Tliat  point  is  a  fow  days'  march 
through  a  rich  country.  When  we  reach 
that  important  railway  junction — when  I 
once  plant  this  army  at,  Goldsboro', — Lee 
must  leave  Virginia,  or  he  will  be  defeated 
beyond  hope  of  recovery.  We  can  make 
this  march,  for  General  Grant  assures  me 
that  Lee  cannot  get  away  from  Richmond 


without  his  knowledge,  nor  without  seri- 
ous loss  to  his  army." 

This  prediction,  showing  at  once  the 
most  remarkable  forecast  and  most  com- 
prehensive generalship,  was  at  once  put  in 
course  of  fulfillment. 

Atlanta  having  served  its  purpose  in 
General  Sherman's  plans — a  resting-place 
on  his  way  to  Savannah,  to  Columbia,  and 
to  Richmond  if  need  be, — it  was  given  up 
to  the  flames,  that  its  workshops  might 
never  again  be  employed  in  casting  shot 
and  shell  for  the  confederacy.  The  rail- 
ways were  torn  up,  the  people  turned 
away,  and  torches  were  applied  to  the 
stores  and  magazines.  A  space  of  two 
hundred  acres  was  soon  on  fire,  and  its 
progress  watched  until  the  conflagration 
had  spread  beyond  the  power  of  man  to 
arrest  its  destructive  work,  and  then  the 


union  forces  marched  out  of  the  unfoi'tu- 
nate  city  with  solemn  tread,  their  band 
playing  the  wild  anthem,  "John  Brown's 
soul  goes  marching  on."  The  army  num- 
bered about  sixty-five  thousand  men. 

As  the  news  of  Sherman's  great  move- 
ment became  known  at  the  north,  intense 
interest  was  felt  in  the  result,  and  it  may 
well  be  supposed  that  not  a  few  were  filled 
with  the  greatest  apprehensions,  in  view  of 
the  dangers  to  be  encountered.  That  the 
president,  however,  did  not  share  in  any 
such  feeling  of  alarm  in  regard  to  the 
issue,  is  shown  by  the  following  conversa- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


871 


tion  on  the  subject,  between  him  and  a 
friend. 

Said  Mr.  Lincoln's  friend:  *' Mr.  Lin- 
coln, as  Sherman's  army  advances,  the 
rebel  forces  necessarily  concentrate  and 
increase  in  number.  Before  long,  Sher- 
man will  drive  the  columns  of  Johnston, 
Bragg,  Hoke,  and  others,  within  a  few 
days'  march  of  Lee's  main  armj'.  May 
not  Lee  suddenly  march  south  with  the 
bulk  of  his  arm}',  form  a  junction  with 
Johnston's  troops,  and  before  Grant  can 
follow  any  considerable  distance,  strike 
Sherman's  column  with  superior  force, 
break  his  lines,  defeat  his  army,  and  drive 
his  broken  fragments  back  to  the  coast, 
and  with  his  whole  army  give  battle  to 
Grant,  and  i:)erlia])S  defeat  him?" 

President  Lincoln  instantly  replied: 
"  And  jierlia'ps  not !  Napoleon  tried  the 
same  game  on  the  British  and  Prussians, 
in  1815.  He  concentrated  his  forces  and 
fell  suddenly  on  Blucher,  and  won  an  inde- 
cisive victory.  He  then  whirled  round  and 
attacked  the  British,  and  met  his  Water- 
loo. Bonaparte  was  hardly  inferior  to 
Lee  in  military  talents  or  experience. 
But  are  you  sure  that  Lee's  forces,  united 
with  Johnston's,  could  beat  Sherman's 
army  ?  Could  he  gain  his  Ligny,  before 
meeting  with  his  Waterloo  when  he  at- 
tacks Grants*  I  tell  you,  there  is  a  heap 
of  fight  in  one  hundred  thousand  western 
veterans.  They  are  a  good  deal  like  old 
Zach.  Taylor  at  Buena  Vista, — they  doiiH 
know  when  they  are  ivlilpped  !  " 

In  turning  his  back  upon  Atlanta,  Gen- 
eral Sherman  divided  his  army  for  the 
great  march  into  two  wings,  General 
Howard  commanding  the  right,  and  Gen- 
eral Slocum  the  left ;  General  Kilpatrick 
handled  the  cavalry  under  Sherman's 
orders.  The  various  corps  composing  the 
wings  were  led,  respectively,  by  Generals 
Osterhaus,  Blair,  Davis,  and  Williams ; 
and  Sherman  for  a  time  accompanied  one 
wing  and  then  the  other. 

On  the  13th  of  November,  Sherman's 
communications  with  the  north  ceased. 
Spreading  itself  out  like  a  fan,  the  extreme 
left  wing  swept  down  the  Augusta  road, 


and  the  extreme  right  marched  towards 
Macon,  the  space  between  being  covered 
by  two  corps,  one  from  each  wing,  and  the 
cavalry  riding  well  on  the  flanks.  Mil- 
ledgeville,  the  capital  of  Georgia,  on  the 
Oconee,  was  the  first  point  of  concentra- 
tion for  the  left  wing.  The  right  wing, 
preceded  and  flanked  by  cavalry,  went 
down  the  roads  towards  Macon,  sweeping 
away  the  small  opposing  forces  mustered 
by  Cobb  and  Wheeler,  and  advancing  aa 
far  as  Griffin.  The  left  wing  went  by 
Covington  to  Madison,  and  there,  sending 
the  cavalry  towards  Augusta,  turned  south- 
ward by  way  of  Eatonton  to  Milledgeville. 
The  right,  after  maneuvering  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Macon,  crossed  the  Ocmulgee  above 
it,  and,  passing  by  Clinton,  descended 
upon  Gordon,  whence  a  branch  line  led  ta 
Milledgeville. 

The  movement  of  troops  on  so  many 
points  had  confounded  the  confederates. 
The  authorities  of  Augusta  believed  their 
town  was  the  object  of  the  march ;  those 
of  Macon  were  certain  that  it  was  against 
them  the  enemy  was  coming.  In  reality, 
Sherman  had  turned  toward  Macon,  and 
had  cut  off  at  least  the  infantry  force 
there,  and  rendered  it  useless.  They 
showed  fight,  however,  attacking  a  small 
union  force,  pushed  up  to  Griswoldville  to 
protect  the  confederates  who  were  destroy- 
ing the  railroad,  and  were  punished  se- 
verely for  their  courage. 

In  a  week  after  quitting  Atlanta,  the 
left  wing  was  united  at  Milledgeville  and 
the  right  at  Gordon,  while  the  cavalry 
were  scouring  the  flanks.  In  the  mean- 
time. General  Wheeler  had  ridden  round 
the  right  flank,  and  crossing  the  Oconee^ 
had  turned  to  defend  the  passage  of  the 
swampy  stream.  But  his  resistance  was 
vain.  Slocum  moved  out  from  Milledgeville 
upon  Sandersville,  and  Howard  marched 
on  both  sides  of  the  Savannah  railway, 
thrusting  Wheeler  away  from  the  bridge 
over  the  Oconee,  and  crossing  himself 
without  the  loss  of  a  man.  The  left  wing 
was  now  converging  on  Louisville,  while 
the  right  struck  across  the  country,  by 
Swainsboro',  upon  Millen.      It  was   now 


872 


OUR  FIRST  CENT  UK  r.— 1776-1876. 


-  -  I  ..4;('-<^'^^   ^  *-  ^  —  ^ii  c^^  - 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


873 


plain  that  the  confederates  had  no  troops 
strong  enough  to  interrupt  the  march,  as 
all  their  efforts  had  failed  to  arrest  the 
forward  movement  of  the  columns. 

In  this  way,  covering  a  wide  front,  now 
filing  through  swamps,  now  spreading  out 
on  a  broad  front  under  the  tufted  pines, 
now  halting  to  tear  up,  twist,  and  burn 
rails  and  sleepers,  now  collecting  cattle  and 
forage,  and  everywhere  welcomed  and  fol- 
lowed by  the  negroes,  the  army  pressed 
forward  to  its  goal.  The  left  flankers  came 
down  through  Sparta,  the  solid  body  of  the 
left  wing  marched  through  Davisboro',  the 
right  moved  steadily  forward  upon  Millen, 
while  Kilpatrick  was  in  the  front  threat- 
•ening  AVaynesboro',  and  destroying  the 
bridges  on  the  way  to  Augusta.  At  length 
the  whole  force,  save  one  corps,  crossed 
the  Ogeechee  and  united  at  Millen. 

Here,  again,  Sherman  kept  his  oppo- 
nents in  doubt  respecting  the  course  he 
would  pursue.  At  Millen  he  threatened 
both  Augusta  and  Savannah,  and  he  made 
such  strong  demonstrations  on  the  Au- 
gusta road,  that  he  led  the  confederates  to 
fear  for  Augusta,  and  so  prevented  them 
from  concentrating  their  troops  at  Savan- 
nah. Kilpatrick,  supj)orted  by  two  infan- 
try brigades,  very  effectually  disposed  of 
Wheeler.  The  army  halted  two  days,  and, 
refreshed  and  united,  began  on  the  second 
of  December,  its  final  march  upon  Savan- 
nah. The  whole  force,  save  one  corps, 
went  steadily  down  the  strip  of  land  be- 
tween the  Savannah  and  the  Ogeechee, 
while  the  one  corps  on  the  right  bank, 
marching  in  two  columns,  a  day  in  ad- 
vance of  the  main  bod}',  effectually  pre- 
vented the  confederates  from  making  any 
stand  on  the  main  road  by  constantly 
flanking  every  position, — a  sound  precau- 
tion, though  not  needed. 

The  correspondents  who  accompanied 
this  grand  army  on  its  triumphant  march, 
have  furnished  abundant  narrative  con- 
cerning that  brilliant  consummation  of  its 
toils,  the  capture  of  Savannah.  It  was  on 
the  evening  of  December  12th,  says  one  of 
these,  that  General  Howard  relieved 
Hazen's    second   division  of  the  fifteenth 


corps,  by  a  part  of  the  Seventeentu,  'nd 
threw  it  across  the  Little  Ogeechee, 
toward  the  Great  Ogeechee,  with  the 
view  of  crossing  it  to  Ossabaw  Island, 
and  reducing  Fort  McAllister,  which  held 
the  river  and  the  city.  The  confederates 
had  destroyed  King's  bridge,  across  the 
Great  Ogeechee,  and  this  had  to  be  re- 
paired ;  this  was  done — one  thousand  feet 
of  bridging — during  the  night,  and,  on  the 
morning  of  the  13th,  Hazen  crossed  and 
moved  toward  the  point  where  Fort  McAl- 
lister obstructed  the  river.  Kilpatrick,  in 
the  meantime,  had  moved  down  to  St. 
Catherine's  sound,  oj^ened  communication 
with  the  fleet,  and  asked  permission  to 
storm  Fort  McAllister;  but  Sherman 
thought  the  cavalry  unequal  to  this  feat. 

Hazen  made  his  arrangements  to  storm 
the  fort  on  the  afternoon  of  thelSth,  Gen- 
erals Sherman  and  Howard  being  at  Che- 
roe's  rice  mill,  on  the  Ogeechee,  opposite 
the  fort.  Sherman  was  on  the  roof  of  the 
mill,  surrounded  by  his  staff  and  signal 
officers,  Beckley  and  Cole,  waiting  to  com- 
municate with  Hazen,  on  the  Island. 
While  patiently  waiting  for  Hazen's  sig- 
nals, Sherman's  keen  eye  detected  smoke 
in  the  horizon,  seaward.  Up  to  this  time 
he  had  received  no  intelligence  from  the 
fleet.  In  a  moment  the  countenance  of 
the  bronzed  chieftain  lightened  up,  and  he 
exclaimed — 

"  Lc  'jk  !  Howard ;  there  is  the  gun- 
boat!" 

Time  passed  on,  and  the  vessel  now 
became  visible,  but  no  signal  from  the 
fleet  or  Hazen.  Half  an  hour  passed,  and 
the  guns  of  the  fort  opened  simultaneously 
with  puffs  of  smoke  that  rose  a  few  hun- 
dred yards  from  the  fort,  showing  that 
Hazen's  skirmishers  had  opened.  A  mo- 
ment after,  Hazen  signaled — 

"  I  have  invested  the  fort,  and  will 
assault  immediately." 

At  this  moment,  Beckley  announced  a 
signal  from  the  gun-boat.  All  eyes  now 
turned  from  the  fort  to  the  gun-boat  that 
was  coming  to  their  assistance  with  news 
from  home.  A  few  messages  pass,  which 
apprise    that    Foster    and   Dahlgren   are 


874 


OUR  FIEST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


within  speaking   distance.      The  gun-boat 
now  halts  and  asks — 

"  Can  we  run  up  ?     Is  Fort  McAllister 


ours  ; 


"No,"  is  the  reply;  "  Hazen  is  just 
ready  to  storm  it.     Can  you  assist  ?  " 

*'  Yes,"  is  the  response ;  "  What  wall 
you  have  us  do  ?  " 

But  before  Sherman  can  reply  to  Dahl- 
gren  the  thunders  of  the  fort  are  heard, 
and  the  low  sound  of  small  arms  is  borne 
across  the  three  miles  of  marsh  and  river. 
Field  glasses  are  opened,  and,  sitting  flat 
upon  the  roof,  the  hero  of  Atlanta  gazes 
away  off  to  the  fort,  "  There  they  go 
grandly — not  a  waver,"  he  remarks. 

Twenty  seconds  pass,  and  again  he  ex- 
claims— 

"  See  that  flag  in  the  advance,  Howard ; 
how  steadily  it  moves ;  not  a  man  falters. 
*  *  There  they  go  still ;  see  the  roll  of 
musketry.     Grand,  grand  !  " 

Still  he  strained  his  eyes,  and  a  moment 
after  spoke  without  looking  up — 

"  That  flag  still  goes  forward  ;  there  is 
no  flinching  there." 

A  pause  for  a  minute. 

"Look!"  he  exclaims,  "it  has  halted. 
They  waver — no,  it's  the  parapet !  There 
they  go  again ;  now  they  scale  it ;  some 
are  over.  Look !  There's  a  flag  on  the 
works!  Another;  another.  It's  ours. 
The  fort's  ours  !  " 

The  glass  dropped  by  his  side  ;  and  in 
an  instant  the  joy  of  the  great  leader  at 
the  possession  of  the  river  and  the  open- 
ing of  the  road  to  his  new  base  burst  forth 
in  words — 

"  As  the  old  darkey  remarked,  dis  chile 
don't  sleep  dis  night !  " — and  turning  to 
one  of  his  aids,  he  added,  "  Have  a  boat 
for  me  at  once ;  I  must  go  there  ! " — 
pointing  to  the  fort  from  which  half  a 
dozen  battle-flags  floated  grandly  in  the 
sunset. 

But  this  dramatic  scene  is  thus  graphi- 
cally delineated  by  another  correspondent, 
who  brings  the  narrative  down  to  the  cul- 
minating and  crowning  event.  The  United 
States  revenue  cutter  Nemaha,  Lieutenant 
Warner,    General   Foster's  flag-boat,  left 


Hilton  Head,  on  the  morning  of  December 
12th,  to  go  down  the  coast  with  General 
Foster  and  staff,  to  endeavor  to  open  com- 
munication with  General  Sherman,  going 
through  to  Fort  Pulaski  and  thence 
through  the  marsh  to  Warsaw  Sound, 
looking  toward  the  main  canal  to  discover 
some  traces  of  Sherman's  advance.  None 
were  observed,  so  Foster  proceeded  outside^ 
and  entered  Ossabaw  Sound,  where  the 
gun-boat  Flag,  on  blockading  duty,  was 
communicated  with.  Lieutenant  Fisher 
was  here  left  on  board  the  Flag,  to  proceed 
with  his  party  up  the  Ogeechee,  and  en- 
deavor to  signal  to  Sherman,  if  he  should 
approach  the  coast  at  that  point. 

The  Nemaha  returned  to  Warsaw,  and 
moved  up  the  Wilmington  river,  anchor- 
ing just  out  of  range  of  a  confederate  bat- 
tery. During  the  night,  rockets  were 
thrown  up  by  Captain  Merrill,  chief  of  the 
signal  corps,  to  announce  liis  presence  to 
General  Sherman's  signal  officers,  but 
elicited  no  response. 

Lieutenant  Fisher  was  more  successful. 
The  Flag  fired  six  guns  in  rapid  succes- 
sion, from  a  heavy  gun,  as  a  signal,  and 
then  Lieutenant  Fisher  threw  up  several 
rockets  and  closely  examined  the  horizon 
over  the  mainland  for  the  response.  At 
about  three  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the 
13th,  after  a  rocket  had  been  discharged 
from  the  Flag,  a  little  stream  of  light  was 
observed  to  shoot  up  in  the  direction  of  the 
Ogeechee,  and  quickly  die  away.  Another 
rocket  was  immediately  sent  up  from  the 
flag-ship,  and  a  second  stream  of  light  was 
seen  in  the  same  position  as  the  first.  It 
then  became  a  question,  whether  or  not 
they  were  confederate  signals  to  deceive 
the  federal  officers. 

At  about  seven  o'clock,  the  navy  tug 
Dandelion,  acting  master  Williams,  tool< 
Lieutenant  Fisher  and  his  party,  and  Cap- 
tain Williamson,  of  the  flag-ship,  and  pro- 
ceeded up  the  Ogeechee,  to  a  point  within 
sight  of  Fort  McAllister  and  the  batteries 
on  the  Little  Ogeechee.  Here  Lieutenant 
Fisher  took  a  small  boat  and  proceeded  up 
as  far  as  possible  without  drawing  the 
enemy's  fire.      A  careful    reconnoissance 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


875 


was  made  of  the  fort  and  the  surrounding 
woods,  from  which  came  the  reports  of 
musketry,  and  the  attention  of  the  garrison 
seemed  to  be  directed  inland  entirely.  A 
flag,  which  seemed  like  that  of  the  Union, 
was  seen  flying  from  a  house  four  miles  off, 
and  on  more  careful  examination  the  stars 
were  plainly  visible,  and  all  doubt  of  the 
character  of  the  flag  was  at  once  removed. 
It  was  the  fiag  that  had  floated  over  Gen- 
eral Hoivard's  head-quarters  at  Atlanta, 
and  now  flamed  out  on  the  sea-coast, 
within  eight  miles  of  the  city  of  Savan- 
nah. Lieutenant  Eisher  at  once  returned 
to  the  tug,  and  moved  up  to  an  opening 
out  of  range  of  Fort  McAllister,  when, 
from  the  top  of  the  pilot-house  of  the  Dan- 
delion, the  American  flag  could  be  dis- 
tinctly seen.  A  white  signal  flag  was  at 
once  raised  by  Lieutenant  Fisher,  and  at 
once  a  signal  flag  of  like  nature  was  waved, 
and  communication  opened.  Lieutenant 
Fisher  signaled — 

"Who  are  you?" 

"  McClintock,  chief  signal  officer  of 
General  Howard,"  was  signaled  back. 

A  message  Avas  at  once  sent  to  General 
Sherman,  tendering  all  aid  from  General 
Foster  and  Admiral  Dahlgren.  General 
Sherman  then  signaled  that  he  was  invest- 
ing Fort  McAllister,  and  wanted  to  know 
if  the  boat  could  help  with  her  heavy  guns. 
Before  any  reply  could  be  given,  Sherman 
had  signaled  to  Hazen,  of  the  fifteenth 
corps,  to  take  the  fort  immediately.  In 
five  minutes  the  rally  had  been  sounded 
by  the  bugles.  One  volley  of  musketry 
was  heard,  and  the  next  moment  the  three 
brigade  flags  of  Hazen's  troops  were 
placed,  almost  simultaneously,  on  the  par- 
apets of  Fort  McAllister.  The  fort  was 
captured  in  twenty  minutes  after  General 
Sherman's  order  to  take  it  was  given. 
Sherman  then  sent  word  that  he  would  be 
down  that  night,  and  to  look  out  for  his 
boat.  The  tug  immediately  steamed  down 
to  Ossabaw  Sound,  to  find  General  Foster 
or  Admiral  Dahlgren  ;  but  they  not  being 
there,  dispatches  were  sent  to  them  at 
Warsaw,  announcing  General  Sherman's 
intended  visit,  and  the  tug  returned  to  its 


old  position.  While  approaching  the  fort 
again  a  small  boat  was  seen  coming  down. 
It  was  hailed  with — 

"What  boat  is  that  ?  "  and  the  welcome 
response  came  back — 

"Sherman." 

It  soon  came  alongside,  and  out  of  the 
little  dug-out,  paddled  by  two  men,  stepped 
General  Sherman  and  General  Howard, 
and  stood  on  the  deck  of  the  Dandelion. 
The  great  leader  was  received  with  cheer 
after  cheer. 

The  city  of  Savannah,  strongly  fortified, 
and  garrisoned  by  a  large  force  under  Gen- 
eral Hardee,  was  summoned,  but  surrender 
was  refused.  Preparations  for  assault 
were  made,  and,  during  the  night  of  De- 
cember 20th,  Hardee  evacuated  the  city, 
and,  with  a  large  part  of  his  garrison, 
escaped  under  cover  of  darkness.  The 
union  army  soon  after  entered  the  city, 
and  General  Sherman  thus  announced 
to  President  Lincoln  this  splendid  tri- 
umph : 

"  /  beg  to  present  you,  as  a  Christmas 
gift,  the  city  of  Savannah,  with  150  heavy 
guns,  and  plenty  of  ammunition,  and  also 
about  25,000  bales  of  cotton." 

Waiting  at  Savannah  only  long  enough 
to  refit  and  recruit,  Sherman  again  began 
a  march  which,  for  peril,  labor,  and  results, 
will  compare  with  any  ever  made  by  an 
organized  army.  The  floods  of  the  Savan- 
nah, the  swamps  of  the  Combahee  and 
Edisto,  the  high  hiijs  and  rocks  of  the 
Santee,  the  flat  quagmires  of  the  Pedee 
and  Cape  Fear  rivers,  were  all  passed  in 
raid-winter,  with  its  floods  and  rains,  in 
the  face  of  an  accumulating  enemy. 

On  the  morning  of  February  17th,  Gen- 
eral Sherman  entered  Columbia,  the  capi- 
tal of  South  Carolina.  In  about  a  month 
from  this  time,  and  after  fighting  battles 
at  Averysboro'  and  Bentonville,  he  made 
a  junction  with  General  Terry's  forces  at 
Goldsboro',  N.  C,  and  from  this  point 
pushed  onward  to  Raleigh,  where,  on  the 
26th  of  April  he  received  the  surrender  of 
the  confederate  army  under  Johnston, — the 
only  remaining  formidable  confederate 
army  in  existence  at  that  time  east  of  the 


876 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Mississippi  river, — thus  virtually  crushing 
the  southern  confederacy.  Indeed,  it  was 
Sherman's  intention  not  to  stop  short  of 
Richmond,  and  only  the  great  events  con- 
summated a  short  time  previously  at  that 
important  point,  under  Grant's  masterly 
generalship,  rendered  this  part  of  the  pro- 
gramme unnecessary. 

At  this  time,  the  great  warrior,  as  de- 
scribed by  his  accomplished  aid-de-camp, 
Major  Nichols,  was  in  person  nearly  six 
feet  in  height,  with  a  wiry,  muscular,  and 
not  ungraceful  frame.  His  age  only  forty- 
seven  years,  but  his  face  furrowed  with 
deep  lines,  indicating  care  and  profound 
thought.  With  surprising  rapidity,  how- 
ever, these  strong  lines  disappeared  when 
he  talked  with  women  and  children.  His 
eyes  dark  brown,  and  sharp  and  quick  in 
expression  ;  his  forehead  broad  and  fair, 
and  sloping  gently  at  the  top  of  the  head, 
the  latter  being  covered  with  thick  and 
light  brown  hair,  closely  trimmed ;  his 
beard  and  moustache,  of  a  sandy  hue, 
were  also  closely  cut.  Of  an  iron  consti- 
tution, exposure  to  cold,  rain,  or  burning 
heat,  seemed  to  produce  no  effect  upon  his 
powers  of  endurance  and  strength.  Under 
the  most  harassing  conditions,  he  exhibited 


no  signs  of  fatigue.  When  in  the  field  he 
retired  early,  but  at  midnight  he  might  be 
found  pacing  in  front  of  his  tent,  or  sitting 
by  the  camp-fire  smoking  his  cigar.  He 
would  fall  asleep  as  easily  and  as  quickly 
as  a  little  child, — by  the  roadside  or  upon 
wet  ground,  on  the  hard  floor  or  when  a 
battle  stirred  the  scene  ;  but  the  galloping 
of  a  courier's  horse  down  the  road  would 
instantly  awaken  him,  as  well  as  a  voice 
or  movement  in  his  tent.  As  showing  his 
thorough  military  spirit,  it  is  related  of 
him,  that,  before  the  fall  of  Atlanta,  he 
refused  a  commission  of  major-general  in 
the  regular  army,  saying,  "  These  positions 
of  so  much  trust  and  honor  should  be  held 
open  until  the  close  of  the  war.  They 
should  not  be  hastily  given.  Important 
campaigns  are  in  operation.  At  the  end, 
let  those  who  prove  their  capacity  and 
merit  be  the  ones  appointed  to  these  high 
honors."  The  great  captain  was  in  a 
short  time  made  lieutenant-general,  and, 
subsequently,  on  the  accession  of  General 
Grant  to  the  presidency,  he  became  Gen- 
eral OP  THE  Army, — a  military  rank 
and  title  conferred  only  upon  three  per- 
sons, since  the  founding  of  the  republic, 
namely,  Washington,  Grant,  Sherman. 


CII. 

FALL  OF  RICHMOND,  VA.,  THE  CONFEDERATE 

CAPITAL.— 1865. 


The  Entrenched  City  Closely  Encompassed  for  Months  by  General  Grant's  Brave  Legions  and  Walls  of 
Steel. — Flight  of  Jefferson  Davis,  and  Surrender  of  General  Lee's  Army. — Overthrow  of  the  Four 
Years'  Gigantic  Rebellion. — TheiEgis  and  Starry  Ensigns  of  the  Republic  Everywhere  Dominant. — 
Transports  of  Joy  Fill  the  Land. — A  Nation's  Laurels  Crown  the  Head  of  the  Conqueror  of  Peace. 
— Memorable  Day  in  Human  Affairs. — Momentous  Issues  Involved — Heavy  Cost  of  this  Triumph. 
— Without  it,  a  Lost  Republic. — Unequaled  Valor  Displayed. — Sherman's  Grand  Conceptions. — 
Sheridan's  Splendid  Generalship. — Onward  March  of  Events. — Strategy,  Battles,  Victories. — Lee's 
Lines  Fatally  Broken. — Approach  of  the  Final  Crisis  — Richmond  Evacuated  by  Night. — Retreat 
of  Lee:  Vigorous  Pursuit. — His  Hopeless  Resistance  to  Grant — Their  Correspondence  and  Inter- 
view.— The  Two  Great  Generals  Face  to  Face. — What  was  Said  and  Done. — Announcing  the  Result. 
— Parting  of  Lee  with  His  Soldiers  — President  Lincoln's  Visit  to  Richmond  — Raising  the  United 
States  Flag  at  Fort  Sumter. — Davis  a  Prisoner  in  Fortress  Monroe. 


"I  propose  to  fight  it  out  on  thi»  line,  if  it  takes  all  summer."— Ge.veral  Grant's  Dispatch  from  the  Field. 


OEN.  GRANT  STATING  TERMS  OF  SURRENDER. 


ERXES  crossing  the  Hellespont  with  his  miles  of 
troops  and  flotilla,  and  over  which  vast  concourse, 
he  wept,  it  is  said,  as  it  passed  in  review,  was  not 
a  more  memorable  illustration  of  the  pomp  and 
circumstance  of  war,  than  that  which  was  exhibit- 
ed in  1864  and  1865  by  the  Union  army  under  Gen- 
eral Grant,  which,  like  a  wall  of  steel,  beleaguer- 
ed the  entrenched  city  of  Richmond — the  strong- 
hold of  his  country's  foes, —  and  brought  it,  in 
April  of  the  last-named  year,  to  submission  and 
surrender  ;  and  with  which  event,  the  hosts  that 
had  been  gathered  by  a  powerful  confederacy  for 
the   overthrow   of  the   republic,   melted   away   in 

I  defeat  and  disaster,  the  disunion  chieftains  became 
fugitives,  and  the  long  strife  of  arms  ceased 
throughout  the  nation.  This  event  has  been  justly 
characterized  as  far  more  momentous  than  any 
other  that  is  likely  to  happen  in  our  time,  and 
which  will  always  make  1865  one  of  the  great 
years  of  history — putting  it,  in  fact,  in  the  same 
category  with  the  first  year  of  the  Christian  era, 
the  year   in  which   Rome  was  sacked,  in  whicli 


878 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Europe  was  saved  from  the  Saracens,  in 
which  Luther  began  to  preach  the  Reform- 
ation, in  which  Parliament  drew  the  sword 
against  Charles  I.,  and  in  which  the  first 
shot  was  fired  in  the  American  Revolu- 
tion ;  a  year,  in  short,  in  which  events 
marked  the  commencement  of  a  new  and 
important  stage  in  human  progress. 

That  the  foe  thus  vanquished  was  not 
an  inferior  one  is  shown  by  the  single  fact, 
— if  by  no  other — as  stated  by  one  of  the 
most  reliable  authorities  in  such  matters, 
that,  in  the  whole  history  of  war,  no  city 
has  been  purchased  by  a  conqueror  at  so 
heavy  a  price  as  it  cost  to  take  Richmond. 
Napoleon  took  Berlin,  Vienna,  and  Mos- 
cow, each  in  a  single  campaign,  and,  when 
the  scale  of  fortune  turned,  the  Allies 
entered  Paris  in  two  successive  years. 
Sebastopol  resisted  the  English  and  French 
armies  for  thirteen  or  fourteen  months, 
and  four  or  five  battles  were  fought  in  the 
hope  of  raising  the  siege.  For  nearly 
four  years,  Richmond  was  the  principal 
object  of  siege  and  attack  by  the  union 
armies,  and  probably  half  a  million  of  men 
were  at  different  times  employed  in  at- 
tempting its  conquest.  After  the  disas- 
ter at  Bull  Run  had  shown  the  federal 
government  the  deficiencies  of  its  military 
organization.  General  McClellan  command- 
ed an  army  of  not  far  from  two  hundred 
thousand  men  on  the  Potomac,  and  he  land- 
ed more  than  half  the  number  in  the  Pe- 
ninsula, while  his  colleagues  defended  the 
approaches  of  Washington.  The  losses  of 
the  union  army  in  the  disastrous  campaign 
of  the  Chickahominy,  and  in  the  subsequent 
defeat  of  General  Pope,  were  variously 
estimated  from  fifty  thousand  all  the  way 
up  to  one  hundred  thousand  men.  Burn- 
side's  loss,  in  his  attack  upon  the  heights 
of  Fredericksburg,  was  not  far  from  fifteen 
thousand  men,  and  about  the  same  result 
attended  the  struggle  between  Generals 
Lee  and  Hooker,  in  1863.  The  magnifi- 
cent union  victory  at  Gettysburg,  involv- 
ing so  great  a  loss  of  life,  was  included  in 
the  same  campaign.  It  was  not  till  the 
early  summer  of  1864,  that  General  Grunt 
commenced  his  final  advance  upon  Rich- 


mond, and  the  battles  which  ensued  in  the 
Shenandoah  and  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Petersburg,  added  largely  to  the  record  of 
bloodshed.  Great  and  most  precious,  how- 
ever, as  was  the  cost  of  final  victory  to  the 
union  army,  its  final  defeat  instead  would 
have  been  at  the  cost  of  the  existence  of 
the  Republic  ! 

The  splendid  military  conceptions  of 
General  Sherman,  and  their  perfect  execu- 
tion, had  much  to  do  with  hastening  the 
downfall  of  Richmond  and  the  collapse  of 
the  southern  confederacy,  nor  can  the  brave 
and  effective  movement  of  General  Sheri- 
dan in  the  same  relation  be  too  highly 
eulogized  by  his  countrymen.  Of  the  lat- 
ter general's  services,  at  this  most  excit- 
ing and  momentous  crisis.  General  Grant 
says  :  "  During  the  30th,  (March,  1865,) 
Sheridan  advanced  from  Dinwiddie  Court- 
House  towards  Five  Forks,  where  he  found 
the  enemy  in  force.  General  Warren 
advanced  and  extended  his  line  across  the 
Boydton  plank  road  to  near  the  White 
Oak  road,  with  a  view  of  getting  across 
the  latter  ;  but  finding  the  enemy  strong 
in  his  front,  and  extending  beyond  his  left, 
was  directed  to  hold  on  where  he  was  and 
fortify.  General  Humj^hreys  drove  the 
enemy  from  his  front  into  his  main  line  on 
the  Hatcher,  near  Burgess's  mills.  Gen- 
erals Ord,  Wright,  and  Parke,  made  exam- 
inations in  their  fronts  to  determine  the 
feasibility  of  an  assault  on  the  enemy's 
lines.  The  two  latter  reported  favorably. 
The  enemy  confronting  us,  as  he  did,  at 
every  point  from  Richmond  to  our  extreme 
left,  I  conceived  his  lines  must  be  weakly 
held,  and  could  be  penetrated  if  my  esti- 
mate of  his  forces  was  correct.  I  deter- 
mined, therefore,  to  extend  my  line  no 
further,  but  to  re-enforce  General  Sheri- 
dan with  a  corps  of  infantry,  and  thus  ena- 
ble him  to  cut  loose  and  turn  the  enemy's 
right  flank,  and  with  the  other  corps  as- 
sault the  enemy's  lines." 

With  what  soldierly  gallantrj'^  Sheridan 
and  his  colleagues  fulfilled  the  parts  as- 
signed them  by  their  superior,  is  thus 
related  by  the  latter.  ''  On  the  morning 
of  the  31st,  General  Warren  reported  fa- 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


879 


vorably  to  getting  possession  of  tlie  White 
Oak  road,  and  was  directed  to  do  so.  To 
accon)plisli  this,  he  moved  with  one  divis- 
ion, instead  of  his  whole  i-orps,  which  was 
attacked  by  the  enemy  in  superior  force 
;ind  driven  back  on  the  second  division 
L)efore  it  had  time  to  form,  and  it,  in  turn, 
forced  back  upon  the  third  division, 
when  the  enemy  was  checked.  A  divis- 
ion of  the  second  corps  was  immedi- 
ately sent  to  his  support,  the  enemy  driven 
back  with  heavy  loss,  and  possession  of 
the  White  Oak  road  gained.  Sheridan 
advanced,  and  with  a  portion  of  his  cavalry 
got  possession  of  the  Five  Forks,  bvit  the 
enemy,  after  the  affair  with  the  fifth  corps, 
re-enforced  the  rebel  cavalry,  defending 
that  point  with  infantry,  and  forced  him 
back  towards  Dinwiddie  Court-House. 
Here  General  Sheridan  displayed  great 
generalshij).  Instead  of  retreating  with 
his  whole  command  on  the  main  army,  to 
tell  the  story  of  suj^erior  forces  encount- 
ered, he  deployed  his  cavalry  on  foot,  leav- 
ing only  mounted  men  enough  to  take 
charge  of  the  horses.  This  compelled  the 
enemy  to  deploy  over  a  vast  extent  of 
woods  and  broken  country,  and  made  his 
progress  slow\  At  this  juncture,  he  dis- 
patched to  me  W'hat  had  taken  place,  and 
that  he  was  dropping  back  slowly  on  Din- 
widdie Court-House."  Never  was  the  trib- 
ute of  praise  more  worthily  bestowed, 
than  this  by  the  greatest  of  American 
heroes  upon  General  Sheridan. 

But  still  more  important  events  were 
hastening.  "On  the  morning  of  the  1st 
■of  April,"  says  General  Grant,  '*  General 
Sheridan,  re-enforced  by  General  Warren, 
drove  the  enemy  back  on  Five  Forks, 
where,  late  in  the  evening,  he  assaulted 
and  carried  his  strongly  fortified  position, 
rapturing  all  his  artillery,  and  between 
five  and  six  thousaod  prisoners.  About 
the  close  of  this  battle.  Brevet  Major- 
General  Charles  Griffin  relieved  Major- 
General  Warren,  in  command  of  the  fifth 
corps.  The  report  of  this  reached  me  after 
nightfall.  Some  apprehensions  filled  my 
mind  lest  the  enemy  might  desert  his  lines 
Juring    the    night,  and    by    falling   upon 


General  Sheridan  before  assistance  could 
reach  him,   drive   him   from   his    position 
and   open  the  way  for  retreat.     To  guard 
against   this,    General  Miles's  division  of 
Humphrey's-  corps   was  sent  to  re-enforce 
him,  and  a  bombardment  was  commenced 
and  kei)t  up  until  four  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, April  2d,  when  an  assault  was  ordered 
on    the   enemy's    lines.     General   Wright 
penetrated  the  lines  with  his  whole  corps, 
sweeping   everytliing   before   him   and   to 
the  left  towards  Hatcher's  Run,  capturing 
many  guns  and  several  thousand  prisoners. 
He  was  closely  followed  by  two  divisions 
of  General  Ord's  command,  until  he  met 
the  other  division  of  General  Ord's   that 
had  succeeded  in  forcing  the  enemy's  lines 
near    Hatcher's    Run.      Generals  Wright 
and  Ord  immediately  swung  to  the  right, 
and  closed  all  of  the  enemy  on  that  side  of 
them  in  Petersburg,  while  General  Hum- 
phreys pushed  forward  w'ith  two  divisions 
and  joined    General  Wright  on  the  left. 
General  Parke  succeeded  in  carrying  the 
enemy's   main    line,  capturing    guns  and 
prisoners,    but    was    unable   to    carry   his 
inner  line.   General  Sheridan  being  advised 
of  the  condition  of  affairs,  returned  Gen- 
eral Miles   to   his   proper  command.     On 
reaching  the    enemy's  lines   immediately 
surrounding  Petersburg,  a  portion  of  Gen- 
eral   Gibbon's    corps,   by    a   most  gallant 
charge,  captured  two  strong,  enclosed  works 
— the  most  salient  and  commanding  south 
of  Petersburg — thus  materially  shortening 
the  line  of  investment  necessary  for  tak- 
ing   in    the    city.      The    enemy    south    of 
Hatcher's     Run    retreated    westward    to 
Sutherland's     station,     where    they    were 
overtaken  by  Miles's  division.     A  severe 
engagement  ensued  and  lasted  until  both 
his  right  and  left  flanks  were  threatened 
by  the  approach  of  General  Sheridan,  who 
was  moving  from  Ford's  station  towards 
Petersburg,  and  a  division   sent  by  Gen- 
eral Meade  from  the  front  of  Petersburg, 
when  he  broke  in   the   utmost  confusion, 
leaving  in  our  hands  his  guns  and   many 
prisoners.      This  force   retreated   by    the 
main    road  along  the   Appomattox   river. 
During  the  night  of  the  second,  the  enemy 


880 


OUK  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


GREAT  AND  MK.MOKAHLE  EVENTS. 


881 


eraruatcd  Petevshurg  and  Iiic/i iiioikI,  and 
ri'treated  toward  Danvillo.  On  tlic  niorn- 
iiiLi;  of  tlie  3d,  pursuit  was  commenced, 
(rcneral  Sheridan  pushed  for  tlie  Danville 
road,  keeping  near  tlie  Ai)ponKittox,  fol- 
lowed b}'^  General  Meade  with  the  second 
and  sixth  corps,  while  General  Ord  moved 
for  Burkesville  along  the  South  Side  road, 
the  ninth  corps  stretched  along  that  road 
behind  liini," — these  combined  movements 
being  made  with  such  rapidity  and  eti'ec- 
tiveness,  that  Lee's  army  could  have  no 
expectation  of  escape  founded  upon  any 
reasonable  probability. 

By  the  night  of  Tuesday,  April  4th, 
Sheridan  and  the  fifth  corps  had,  by  a 
march  of  thirty-six  miles,  gained  a  position 
west  of  Lee,  near  Jettersville,  on  the  road 
to  Burkesville.  This  movement  resulted 
the  next  day  in  the  capture  of  a  train  of 
three  hundred  wagons,  with  five  cannon 
and  a  thousand  prisoners.  On  Wednes- 
day, Grant,  with  the  twenty-fourth  corj^s, 
had  reached  Nottoway  Court-House,  and 
there  learned  by  a  dispatch  from  Sheridan 
that  Lee  had  been  intercepted.  On  Tlini-s- 
day,  Grant  had  brought  his  army  up  to 
Sheridan's  support,  and  with  the  second, 
fifth,  and  sixth  corps,  lay  in  line  of  battle 
at  Burke's  Station,  facing  to  the  north 
and  east,  and  cutting  Lee  off  from  Dan- 
ville. Lee  then  tried  to  move  on  toward 
Lynchburg,  by  taking  a  circuitous  route 
by  way  of  Deatonsville,  toward  the  Appo- 
mattox, which  he  hoped  to  cross,  and,  with 
the  river  between  him  and  Grant,  secure 
his  retreat.  Lee  was  compelled  to  fight 
at  Deatonsville,  where  he  was  defeated, 
his  loss  amounting  to  thirteen  thousand 
prisoners,  including  Lieutenant-General 
Ewell  and  Major-Generals  Custis  Lee, 
Kershaw,  Corse,  DeBarry,  Anderson,  Hun- 
ton,  and  Barton.  Fourteen  cannon  were 
also  taken,  and  several  hundred  wagons. 

On  Friday,  April  7tb,  Grant  wrote  briefly 
to  Lee,  asking  him  to  surrender  "  that 
portion  of  the  Confederate  States  army 
known  as  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia." 
He  said  :  "  The  result  of  last  week  must 
convince  you  of  the  hopelessness  of  further 
resistance    on    the    part    of    the    army    of 


Northern  Virginia  in  this  struggle."  Lee 
replied  the  same  day,  saying  that  though 
he  was  not  entirely  of  Grant's  opin- 
ion as  to  the  hopelessness  of  further 
resistance,  he  reciprocated  the  desire  to 
avoid  useless  effusion  of  blood,  and  asked 
upon  what  terms  Grant  would  accept  the 
surrender.  On  t!ie  8th,  Grant  again  wrote, 
declaring  that  lie  should  insist  upon  but 
one  condition,  namely:  "That  the  men 
surrendered  ^hall  be  disqualified  for  taking 
nj)  arms  again  against  the  government  of  the 
United  States  until  properly  exchanged." 
To  this,  Lee  replied  that  he  did  not  think 
the  emergency  had  arisen  to  call  for  the 
surrender,  but  desired  an  interview  at  ten 
o'clock  the  next  day,  on  the  old  stage 
road  to  Richmond,  in  respect  to  the  restor- 
ation of  peace.  On  the  ninth,  Grant 
wrote  that  he  had  no  authority  to  grant 
such  an  interview\  He  said :  "  The 
terms  upon  which  [)eace  can  be  had  are 
well  understood.  lly  the  Soixth  laying 
down  their  arms  they  will  hasten  that 
most  desirable  event,  save  thousands  of 
human  lives  and  liuudie.ls  of  millions  of 
pro[)erty  not  yet  destroyed." 

In  taking  the  ground  that  he  did  in  this 
correspondence,  Grant  acted  expressly 
in  accordance  with  the  views  entertained 
by  his  superiors  at  \Vashington.  It  ap- 
pears that  among  the  dispatches  which 
Grant  had  sent  to  the  president,  about 
this  time,  was  one  in  which  he  spoke  of  an 
application  to  be  made  by  Lee  for  an 
interview  to  negotiate  about  peace.  Mr. 
Lincoln  intimated  prettj-  clearly^  an  inten- 
tion to  permit  extremely  favorable  terms, 
and  to  let  his  general-in-chief  settle  them  : 
and  this  even  to  an  extent  that  overpow- 
ered the  reticent  habits  of  his  secretary  of 
war,  who,  after  restraining  himself  as  long 
as  he  could,  broke  out  sternly,  saying — 

"  Mr.  President,  to-morrow  is  inaugura- 
tion day.  If  you  are  not  to  be  the  presi- 
dent of  an  obedient  and  united  people,  you 
had  better  not  be  inaugurated.  Your 
work  is  alread}'  done,  if  any  other  author- 
ity than  3'ours  is  for  one  moment  to  be 
recognized,  or  any  terms  made  that  do  not 
signify  that  you  are  the  supreme  head  of 


i^82 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  nation.  If  generals  in  the  field  are 
to  negotiate  peace,  or  any  other  chief 
magistrate  is  to  be  acknowledged  on  the 
continent,  then  you  are  not  needed,  and 
.  ou  had  better  not  take  the  oath  of  office." 

'•  Stanton,"  said  the  president  —  his 
wliole  tone  changing,  "you  are  right.  Let 
m  ;  liave  a  pen." 

Ml'.  Lincoln  sat  down  at  the  table  and 
wrote  as  follows  : 

"  The  President  directs  me  to  say  to 
you  that  he  wishes  you  to  hav^e  no  confer- 
ence with  General  Lee,  unless  it  be  for 
the  capitulation  of  Lee's  army,  or  on  some 
minor  or  purely  military  matter.  He 
instructs  me  to  say  that  you  are  not  to 
decide,  discuss,  or  confer  on  any  political 
question  ;  such  questions  the  president 
holds  in  his  own  hands,  and  will  submit 
them  to  no  military  conferences  or  conven- 
tions. In  the  meantime,  you  are  to  press 
to  the  utmost  your  military  advantages." 

Tlie  president  now  read  over  what  he 
had  written,  and  then  said — 

"  Xow,  Stanton,  date  and  sign  this  paper, 
ind  send  it  to  Grant.  We'll  see  about 
tlii.s  peace  business." 

Grant's  note  declining  an}'  interview  to 
consider  terms  of  peace  was  received 
by  Lee  on  the  spot  which  he  had  desig- 
nated for  the  meeting.  On  receipt  of  this, 
Lee  at  once  dispatched  another  note, 
requesting  a  personal  interview  for  the 
object  named  in  Grant's  previous  commun- 
ication— the  surrender  of  Lee's  army.  A 
flag  of  truce  proceeded  to  Appomattox 
Court-House  shortly  after  noon,  and  at 
about  two  o'clock  the  two  generals  met  at 
the  house  of  Mr.  W.  M(;Lean.  General 
Lee  was  attended  by  General  Marshall,  his 
adjutant-general ;  General  Grant,  by  Colo- 
nel Parker,  one  of  his  chief  aids-do-camp. 
General  Grant  arrived  about  fifteen  min- 
utes later  than  General  Lee,  and  entered 
the  parlor  where  the  latter  was  awaiting 
iiim. 

The  two  generals  greeted  each  other 
with  dignified  courtesy,  and  after  a  few 
moments  conversation,  jiroceeded  to  the 
business  before  tliem.  Lee  immediately 
alluded  to  the  conditions  named  by  General 


Grant  for  the  surrender,  characterized 
them  as  exceedingl}-  lenient,  and  said  he 
would  gladly  leave  all  the  details  to  Gen- 
eral Grant's  own  discretion.  Of  this  inter- 
view. General  Grant  himself  gave  ihe 
following  interesting  account  to  some 
friends,  at  a  private  dinner-party  in  Wash- 
ington : 

"  I  felt  some  embarrassment  in  the  pros- 
pect of  meeting  General  Lee.  I  had  not 
seen  him  since  he  was  General  Scott's 
chief-of-staff  in  Mexico;  and  in  addition  to 
the  respect  I  entertained  for  him,  the 
duty  which  I  had  to  perform  was  a  dis- 
agreeable one,  and  I  wished  to  get  through 
it  as  soon  as  possible.  When  I  reached 
Appomattox  Court-House,  I  had  ridden 
that  morning  thirty-seven  miles.  I  was 
in  my  campaign  clothes,  covered  with  dust 
and  mud ;  I  had  no  sword ;  I  was  not  even 
well  mounted,  for  I  rode  (turning  to  Gen- 
eral Ingals,  who  was  present,)  one  of 
Ingals's  horses.  I  found  General  Lee  in  a 
fresh  suit  of  confederate  gray,  with  all  the 
insignia  of  his  rank,  and  at  his  side  the 
splendid  dress-sword  which  had  been  given 
him  by  the  state  of  Virginia.  We  shook 
hands.  He  was  exceedingly  courteous  in 
his  address,  and  we  seated  ourselves  at  a 
deal  table  in  Mr.  McLean's  front  room. 
We  talked  of  two  of  the  conditions  of  sur- 
render, which  had  been  left  open  by  our 
j)revious  correspondence,  cne  of  which  re- 
lated to  the  ceremonies  which  were  to  be 
observed  on  the  occasion  ;  and  when  I  dis- 
claimed any  desire  to  have  any  jiarade, 
but  said  I  should  be  contented  with  the 
delivery  of  arms  to  my  officers,  and  with 
the  proper  signature  and  authentication  of 
paroles,  he  seemed  to  be  greatly  i;)leased. 
When  I  yielded  the  other  point,  that  the 
officers  should  retai;^  their  side  arms  and 
private  baggage  and  horses,  his  emotions 
of  satisfaction  were  plainly  visible.  We 
soon  i-educed  the  terms  to  writing.  We 
parted  with  the  same  courtesies  with  which 
we  had  met.  It  seemed  to  me  that  Gen- 
eral Lee  evinced  a  feeling  of  satisfaction 
and  relief  when  the  business  was  finished. 
I  immediately  mounted  Ingals's  horse,  re- 
turned to  General  Sheridan's  head-quarters, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


883 


and  did  not  again  present  myself  to  the 
confederate  commander." 

The  house  in  which  this  most  memora- 
ble interview  took  pla<;e  was  a  comfortable 
and  well-built  double  brick  house,  with  a 
small  green  lawn  in  front.  The  occupant, 
.^[r.  McLean,  lived  in  1861  at  Bull  llun, 
and  owned  the  farm  on  which  the  first 
and  famous  Bull  Run  battle  was  fought. 
It  was  in  consequence  of  the  disturbed 
state  of  the  country  and  the  annoyances 
to  wliich  he  was  subjected,  that  he  aban- 
doned his  place,  and  took  refuge  in  the 
distant  town  of  Appomattox.  Here  he 
purchased  some  land  and  settled  quietly 
down,  as  he  thought,  beyond  the  tide  of 
war.  But  fate  followed  him ;  for,  about 
four  3'ears  after  he  left  the  Bull  Run  farm, 
the  southern  army  was  surrounded  at 
Appomattox,  and  the  last  battle  as  well  as 
the  first  was  fought  on  his  farm  !  The 
large  marble-topped  center  table,  on  which 
the  two  generals  signed  the  minutes,  was 
of  a  somewhat  antiquated  style,  and  was 
afterwards  purchased  by  General  Ord  for 
fifty  dollars.  General  Custer  purchased 
the  other  table,  of  small  size,  on  which  the 
documents  were  prepared,  for  twenty-five 
dollars. 

After  the  interview.  General  Lee  re- 
turned to  his  own  camp,  about  half  a  mile 
distant,  where  his  leading  ofiicers  were 
assembled,  awaiting  his  return.  He  an- 
nounced the  result  and  the  terms,  where- 
upon they  expressed  great  satisfaction  at 
the  liberal  conditions.  They  then  ap- 
proached him  in  order  of  rank,  shook 
hands,  and  assured  him  of  their  approval 
of  his  course,  and  their  regret  at  parting. 
The  fact  of  surrender  and  the  easy  terms 
were  then  announced  to  the  troops,  and 
when  General  Lee  aj^peared  among  them 
he  was  loudly  cheered. 

Immediately  after  the  evacuation  of 
Richmond,  General  Weitzel,  M'ith  the 
second  brigade  of  the  third  division  of  the 
twenty-fourth  army  corps,  entered  the  city 
and  took  possession,  hoisting  the  United 
States  flag  at  every  prominent  point,  and 
on  the  next  day  President  Lincoln  visited 
the   fallen   capital.     His  appearance   was 


greeted  with  tumultuous  cheering,  though 
he  came   with  no  pomp  of  attendance  or 
surroundings,  and  totally  unheralded.     He 
arrived    in    a   United   States  war  vessel, 
early    in    the    afternoon,    at    the    landing 
called  the   Rocketts,   about  a  mile  below 
the  city,  and  thence,  accompanied  by  his 
young   son   and  Admiral  Porter,  went  to 
the   city    in   a   boat.      Mr.   C.    C.  Coffin, 
("  Cai-leton,")     the     accomplished    corre- 
spondent of  the  Boston  Journal,  in  giving 
an  account  of  this  presidential  visit,  says 
that  somehow  the  negroes  on  the  bank  of 
the   river  ascertained  that  the  tall   man 
wearing  a  black  hat  was  President  Lin- 
coln.     There   was   a   sudden    shout.     An 
officer  who  had  just  picked  up  fifty  negroes 
to  do  work  on  the  dock,  found   himself 
alone.      They    left    work,    and    crowded 
around  the  president.     As  he  approached, 
I  said  to  a  colored  woman, — 

"  There  is  the  man  who  made  you  free." 

"  What,  massa  ?  " 

"  That  is  President  Lincoln." 

"  Dat  President  Linkum  ?" 

"Yes." 

She  gazed  at  him  a  moment,  clapped 
her  hands,  and  jumped  straight  up  and 
down,  shouting  "  Glory,  glory,  glory  !"  till 
her  voice  was  lost  in  the  universal 
cheer. 

There  was  no  carriage  near,  so  the  presi- 
dent, leading  his  son,  walked  three-quarters 
of  a  mile  up  to  General  Weitzel's  head- 
quarters— Jefferson  Davis's  presidential 
mansion.  A  colored  man  acted  as  guide. 
Six  sailors,  wearing  their  round  blue  caps 
and  short  jackets  and  bagging  pants,  with 
navy  carbines,  were  the  advance  guard. 
Then  came  the  president  and  Admiral 
Porter,  flanked  by  the  officers  accompany- 
ing him,  and  the  correspondent  of  the 
Boston  Journal,  then  six  more  sailors  with 
carbines, — amid  a  surging  mass  of  men, 
women,  and  children,  black,  white,  and 
yellow,  running,  shouting,  and  dancing, 
swinging  their  caps,  bonnets  ar.d  hand- 
kerchiefs. The  soldiers  saw  him  and 
swelled  the  crowd,  cheering  in  wild  enthu- 
siasm. All  could  see  him,  he  was  so  tall, 
so  conspirnous. 


884 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


One  colored  woman,  standing  in  a  door- 
way, as  the  president  passed  along  the 
sidewalk,  shouted,  "  Thank  you,  dear 
Jesus,  for  this  !  thank  you,  Jesus  ! " 
Another,  standing  by  her  side,  was  clap- 
ping her  hands  and  shouting,  "  Bless  de 
Lord !  "  A  colored  woman  snatched  her 
bonnet  from  her  head,  whirled  it  in  the 
air,  and  screamed  with  all  her  might, 
"  God  bless  you,  Massa  Linkum  !  " 

President  Lincoln  walked  in  silence, 
acknowledging  the  salutes  of  officers  and 
soldiers,  and  of  the  citizens,  black  and 
white.  It  was  the  man  of  the  people 
among  the  people.  It  was  the  great  de- 
liverer among  the  delivered.  General 
Shepley  met  the  president  in  the  street, 
and  escorted  him  to  General  WeitzeVs 
quarters.  Major  Stevens,  hearing  that 
the  president  was  on  his  way,  suddenly 
summoned  a  detachment  of  Massachusetts 
cavalry,  and  cleared  the  way.  After  a 
tedious  walk,  the  mansion  of  Mr.  Davis 
was  reached.  The  immense  crowd  swept 
round  the  corner  of  the  street  and  packed 
the  space  in  front.  General  "Weitzel 
received  the  president  at  the  door.  Cheer 
upon  cheer  went  up  from  the  excited  mul- 
titude, two-thirds  of  whom  were  colored. 
The  officers  who  had  assembled  were 
presented  to  the  president  in  the  reception 
room,  and  then  citizens  innumerable  paid 
him  their  respects  ;  after  which  the  presi- 
dent took  a  ride  through  the  city,  accom- 
panied by  Admiral  Porter,  Generals  Shep- 
ley and  Weitzel,  and  others. 

All  this  took  2^1^ce  only  a  few  hours 
after  the  flight  of  Davis.  Early  in  the 
forenoon  of  that  eventful  Sunda}',  Lee  tel- 
egraphed to  his  chief,  that  his  lines  had 
been  broken  in  three  places  and  that  Rich- 
mond must  be  evacuated  in  the  evening. 
This  message  was  delivered  to  Davis  at 
eleven  o'clock,  while  he  was  in  church. 
He  immediately  left,  and,  arranging  his 
affairs  as  well  as  time  would  permit,  pro- 
ceeded with  his  cabinet  to  Danville.  Pol- 
lard, the  liistorian  of  the  southern  cjuisc, 
states  that  the  rumor  was  caught  uji  in 
the  streets  that  Richmond  was  to  be  evac- 
uated, and   was  r-oon   carried  to   the   ends 


of  the  cit}'.  Men,  women,  and  children, 
rushed  from  the  churches,  passing  from 
lip  to  lip  news  of  the  impending  fall.  It 
was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  the  signs 
of  evacuation  became  apparent  to  the  in- 
credulous. Wagons  on  the  streets  were 
being  hastily  loaded  at  the  departments 
with  boxes,  trunks,  etc.,  and  driven  to  the 
Danville  depot.  Those  who  had  deter- 
mined to  evacuate  with  the  fugitive  govern- 
ment looked  on  with  amazement ;  then, 
convinced  of  the  fact,  rushed  to  follow  the 
government's  example.  Vehicles  suddenly 
rose  to  a  premium  value  that  was  astound- 
ing. All  over  the  city  it  was  the  same — 
wagons,  trunks,  boxes,  bundles,  and  their 
hurrying  owners,  filling  the  streets.  By 
order  of  the  military  authorities,  all  the 
spirituous  liquor  in  the  city  was  destroyed, 
but  some  of  it  was  seized  and  used  by  the 
straggling  soldiery,  who  thereupon  commit- 
ted the  grossest  excesses.  The  great 
tobacco  warehouses  were  also,  by  mili- 
tary order,  set  on  fire,  as  were  also  the 
various  bridges  leading  out  of  the  city, 
and  the  rams  in  James  river  were  blown 
up.  The  whole  scene  was  awful  in  the 
extreme. 

At  Danville,  Davis  set  up  the  form  and 
machinery  of  his  government,  issuing  at 
once  a  stirring  address,  in  whicli  he  said  : 
"  We  have  now  entered  upon  a  new  phase 
of  the  struggle.  Relieved  from  the  neces- 
sity of  guarding  particular  points,  our 
army  will  be  free  to  move  from  point  to 
point,  to  strike  the  enemy  in  detail  far 
from  his  base."  Waiting  here,  in  expect- 
ation of  Lee's  arrival  wi'h  his  army,  the 
news  of  the  surrender  of  llic  latter  reached 
him  on  the  lOlh  of  April.  Dismayed  at 
the  tidings,  Davis  hastily  made  his  escape 
to  Greensboro,  N.  C,  and  afterwards,  with 
various  baitings,  to  Charlotte,  N.  C,  and 
thence  to  Washington  and  Irwinsville, 
Ga.,  where  he  was  captured,  May  11th,  by 
the  union  cavalry,  and  carried,  a  prisoner, 
to  Fortress  INIoiiroe.  This  was,  in  form, 
the  close  <if  the  war.  Gtneral  Johnston 
surrendered  his  army  at  Raleigh,  N.  C, 
A[)ril  26th,  to  General  Sherman.  General 
Howell   Cobb,    with   his   militia   and    five 


h 


GREAT  AND  JNIEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


885 


generals,  surrendered  to  General  "Wilson, 
at  IMaeon,  Ga.,  April  20th.  Gen.  Dick 
Taylor  surrendered  all  the  remaining  con- 
federate forces  east  of  the  INIississippi  to 
General  Canby,  ^Ma^''  14th  ;  and,  on  the 
2Gth  of  the  same  month,  Gen.  Kirby  Smith 
surrendered  liis  entire  command,  west  of 
the  ]Mississipi)i,  to  the  same  officer.  On 
tlie  14th  of  April, — just  four  years  from 
the  memorable  bombardment  and  evacua- 
tion,— the  flag  of  the  United  States  was 
planted  again  upon  Fort  Sumter,  under 
the  orders  of  the  president,  by  the  hands 
of  General  Anderson,  its  commander  in 
April,  1861. 

The  close  of  this  mightv  strusrccle,  assur- 
ing  the  world  of  the  continued  nationality 
of  the  American  Union,  filled  the  land 
with  such  transports  and  demonstrations 
of  joy  as  were  never  before  known  among 
any  people  ;  and  the  laurels  of  the  nation 
covered  the  brow  of  Grant,  the  hero  of 
mighty  battles — the  Conqueror  of  Peace. 
By  special  act  of  congress,  the  full  and 
supreme  rank  of  General — a  title  never 
worn  by  a  United  States  commander  since 
the  days  of  the  illustrious  "Washington, — 
was  revived  and  conferred  upon  Grant ; 
and,  as  the  highest  honor  in  the  gift  of 
his  countrymen,  he  was  in  18G9  transfer- 
red from  the  command  of  the  army  to  the 
exalted  position  of  President  of  the  United 
States,  in  which  station  he  remained  ■eight 
years. 

One  event,  in  especial,  among  the  clus- 
ter just  named  in  connection  with  the 
closing  scenes  of  the  Great  Conflict,  de- 
serves more  than  a  passing  mention  here, 
namely,  the  Be-jjossession  of  Fort  Suviter, 
and  the  restoration  to  its  original  j)l(ice  on 
that  historic  spot,  hy  General  Anderson,  of 
the  identical  flag  which,  after  an  honora- 
ble and  gallant  defense,  he  ft^as  compelled 
to  lower  in  April,  1861. 

This  ceremony  of  re-occupation  took 
place,  as  ordered  by  President  Lincoln,  on 
Friday,  April  14th,  18G5,  in  presence  of 
several  thousands  of  spectators.  Among 
the  company  w^ere  Generals  Gillmore,  Dix, 
Washburne,  Doubleday,  Anderson,  Dela- 
field,   Grover,   Hatch,   and    Saxton,   Rev. 


Henry  "Ward  Beecher,  "William  Lloyd 
Garrison,  George  Thompson,  Assistant  Sec- 
retary Fox,  of  the  Navj'^  Dei)artment, 
Professor  Davis,  and  some  two  hundred 
officers  of  the  navy.  The  spectators  were 
conveyed  from  Charleston  to  the  fort  by 
steamers,  and  the  ceremonies  were  ushered 
in  at  noon  with  a  song  and  chorus  entitled 
'  Victory  at  Last.' 

Prayer  was  now  offered  by  Rev.  Mat- 
thias Harris,  chaplain  United  States  Army, 
who  made  the  prayer  at  the  raising  of 
the  flag  when  Major  Anderson  suddenly 
removed  his  command  from  Fort  Moultrie 
to  Fort  Sumter,  December  27th,  1860. 
Rev.  Dr.  Storrs,  of  Brooklyn,  then  read 
selections  of  scripture,  after  which,  Adju- 
tant-General Townsend  read  Major  Ander- 
son's dispatch,  dated  steamship  Baltic,  off 
Sandy  Hook,  April  18th,  1861,  announcing 
the  fall  of  Fort  Sumter. 

Major-General  Anderson  and  Sergeant 
Hart  then  stepped  forward  on  the  platform 
and  unfurled  the  glorious  old  banner,  amid 
the  deafening  cheers  of  the  assemblage. 
As  they  raised  the  flag,  with  an  evergreen 
wreath  attached,  the  occupants  on  the 
stage  all  joined  in  taking  hold  of  the  hal- 
yards. The  scene  of  rejoicing  that  fol- 
lowed, as  the  flag  reached  the  top  of  the 
staff,  was  indescribable.  The  enthusiasm 
was  unbounded.  There  was  a  simultane- 
ous rising,  cheering,  and  waving  of  hats 
and  handkerchiefs,  for  fully  fifteen  minutes. 
As  the  starry  emblem  floated  out  grace- 
fully to  the  strong  breeze,  the  joyful  dem- 
onstrations were  repeated,  which  were 
responded  to  by  music  from  the  bands,  a 
salute  of  one  hundred  guns  at  Fort  Sumter, 
and  a  national  salute  from  every  fort  and 
battery  that  fired  upon  Sumter  in  April, 
1861.  When  this  was  over.  General  Ander- 
son came  forward  and  said — 

''  I  am  here,  friends  and  fellow-citizens, 
and  brother  soldiers,  to  perform  an  act  of 
duty  which  is  dear  to  my  heart,  and  which 
all  of  you  present  appreciate  and  feel.  Did 
I  listen  to  the  promptings  of  my  own 
heart,  I  would  not  attempt  to  speak ;  but 
I  have  been  desired  by  the  secretary  of 
war  to  make  a  few  remarks.      By  the  con- 


886 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


siderate  appointment  of  the  honored  secre- 
tary of  war  to  fulfill  the  cherished  wish  of 
my  heart  through  four  long  years  of  bloody 
war — to  restore  to  its  proper  place  this 
very  flag  which  floated  here  during  peace, 
before  the  first  act  of  this  cruel  rebellion 
— I  thank  God  I  have  lived  to  see  this 
day,  to  be  here  to  perform  this,  perhaps 
the  last  act  of  duty  to  my  country  in  this 
life.  My  heart  is  filled  with  gratitude  to 
Almighty  God  for  the  signal  blessings  he 
has  given  us — blessings  beyond  number. 
May  all  the  world  proclaim  'Glory  to  God 


in  the  highest ;  on  earth,  peace  and  good 
will  toward  men.'  " 

The  'Star  Spangled  Banner'  was  then 
sung  by  the  whole  audience,  with  great 
feeling  and  effect ;  after  which,  Rev. 
Henry  Ward  Beecher  delivered  a  com- 
memorative oration  of  great  eloquence  and 
power.  The  doxology,  with  devotional 
services,  closed  the  public  exercises  of  the 
day  ;  and,  with  cheers  for  President  Lin- 
coln, the  old  Flag,  the  Union,  Generals 
Grant,  Sherman,  and  others,  the  vast  mul- 
titude separated. 


f 


I 

f 


cm. 

ASSASSINATION    OF    PRESIDENT    LINCOLN,    AT    FORD'S 
THEATER,  WASHINGTON,  BY  J.   WILKES 

BOOTH.— 1865. 


Conspiracy  to  Murder,  Simultaneously,  all  the  Chi  ^  Officers  of  the  Government  —The  Most  Exalted 
and  Beloved  of  Mortal  Rulers  Fails  a  Victim  — A  Universal  Wail  of  Anguish  and  Lamentation 
Poured  Forth  from  the  National  Heart.— Darkest  Pafie  in  tlie  History  of  the  Country  —Funeral  Cor- 
tege Through  Fifteen  States.— Tragical  Fate  of  the  Conspirators.— Ol>ject  of  this  Most  Infamous  ot 
Crimes  —Singular  Time  of  its  rerpetratlon.— Virtual  End  of  the  Great  Civil  War— Dawn  of  Peace  : 
Universal  Joy. — President  Lincoln's  Happy  Frame  of  Mind. — How  He  Passed  His  Last  Day. — Con- 
versations on  the  Evening  of  April  14th. — Makes  an  Engagement  for  the  Morrow  — Last  Time  He 
Signed  His  Name. — Reluctantly  Goes  to  the  Tiieater.— Arrives  Late  :  Immense  Audience — Plans  and 
Movements  of  Booth,  the  Assassin. — The  Fatal  Shot :  A  Tragedy  of  Horrors  —Removal  of  the  Presi- 
dent to  a  Private  House. — Speechless  and  Unconscious  to  the  End  — Death-Bed  Scenes  and  Incidents. 
— The  Nation  Stunned  at  the  Appalling  News. — Its  Reception  at  the  South,  and  by  General  Lee 

— A  Continent  in   Tears   and   Mourning.— Most 
Imposing  Obsequies  Ever  Known. — Booth's  Switt 
nnd  Bloody  End.— Trial  of  His  Male  and  Female 
%     Accomplices. 


— "  Mourn  ye  for  him  ?  let  him  be  regarded 
As  the  most  noble  coise  that  ever  herald 
Did  lollow  to  his  urn." 


Mil.    LINCOLN'S   EARLY  HOME. 


EVIEWING  the  great  procession  of  events 
which  distinguish  the  ninety  years  cov- 
ered by  our  national  existence,  up  to  the 
present  time,  there  is,  confessedly,  none 
of  the  many  during  that  period,  which 
shows  so  dark  and  terrible  a  page, — none  which  so  paralyzed  the  heart  of  the  nation,  or 
sent  such  a  thrill  of  agony  through  the  four  continents  of  the  globe,  causing  world-wide 
sorrow  and  lamentation, — as  the  assassination  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  president  of  the 
United  States,  by  John  Wilkes  Booth,  at  Ford's  Theater,  in  the  capital  of  the  nation, 
on  the  night  of  April  14th,  1865.  And  this  bloody  deed  was  but  one  act  in  the  diabol- 
ical conspiracy  which  contemplated  the  simultaneous  murder  of  the  chief  officers  of 
state,  at  the  federal  capital,  to  the  end  that  panic  might  there  seize  upon  the  govern- 
ment and  nation,  and  treason  and  anarchy  assert  their  sway  over  a  republic  in  ruins. 

And  yet,  the  time  chosen  for  this  most  appalling  conspiracy  was  that  which  was 
marked  by  the  virtual  close  of  the  great  war  which  for  four  long  years  had  filled  the 
land  with  carnage  and  death  ;  the  prowess  of  General  Grant  had  shattered  the  plans  of 
the  ablest  military  chieftains  of  the  south  ;  General  Slierman  had  consummated  his 
grand  march  from  Atlanta  to  Savannah,  and  thence  through  South  Carolina ;  all  the 


888 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


i-hief  cities  of  the  south  were  occupied  b}' 
the  union  forces  ;  Lee  liad  surrendered 
his  sword,  and  President  Lincoln  iiad  jvist 
visited  the  city  of  Riclitnond,  so  recently 
the  confederate  sti-onghold;  and  Jefferson 
Davis  was  a  fugitive,  who  had  tlien  barely 
escaped  capture.  The  demonstrations  of 
joy  at  tlie  now  certain  conclusio;!  of  hostil- 
ities, and  the  dawn  of  peace,  were  univer- 
sal; and  by  no  one,  in  all  tiie  land,  was 
this  joy  shared  so  fully  as  by  President 
Lincoln. 

Of  the  president's  happy  frame  of  mind, 
now  that  victory  Ji.id  everywhere  crowned 
the  federal  arms,  and  he  was  entering  on 


FOKO'S  TUEATIOK     IX   WASHINGTON. 

his  second  presidential  term  under  the 
auspices  of  prospective  peace,  something 
may  be  judged  by  the  incidents  repre- 
sented to  have  transpired  in  connection 
with  his  private  and  personal  intercourse, 
during  the  last  day  of  his  life.  On  the 
morning  of  that  fatal  day,  Captain  Robert 
Lincoln,  son  of  the  president,  and  who  had 
just  returned  from  the  capitulation  of  Gen- 
eral Lee,  breakfasted  with  his  father,  and 
the  president  passed  a  happy  hour  listen- 
ing to  all  the  details.  While  thus  at 
breakfast,  he  heard  that  Speaker  Colfax 
was  in  the  house,  and  sent  word  that  he 
wished    to    see    him    immediately    in    the 


reception  room.  He  conversed  with  him 
nearly  an  hour,  on  his  future  policy  as  to 
the  south,  which  he  was  about  to  submit 
to  the  cabinet.  Afterwards  he  had  an 
interview  with  INIr.  Hale,  minister  to  Spain, 
and  with  several  senators  and  representa- 
tives. At  eleven  o'clock,  the  cabinet  and 
General  Grant  met  with  him,  and,  in  one 
of  the  most  important  and  satisfactory 
cabinet  sessions  held  since  his  first  inau- 
guration, the  future  policy  of  the  adminis- 
tration was  harmoniously  and  unanimously 
agreed  on.  Secretary  Stanton  remarking 
that  he  felt  that  the  government  was 
stronger  than  at  any  previous  period  since 
the  rebellion  commenced.  Turning  to 
General  Grant,  Mr.  Lincoln  asked  him  if 
he  had  heard  from  General  Sherman. 
General  Grant  re2)lied  that  lie  had  not,  but 
was  in  hourly  expectation  of  receiving  dis- 
patches from  him  announcing  the  sur- 
render of  Johnston.  The  president  re- 
plied : 

"Well,  you  will  hear  very  soon,  and  the 
news  will  be  important." 

"Why  do  you  think  so?"  inquired 
General  Grant,  somewhat  in  a  curious 
mood. 

"Because,"  said  j\tr.  Lincoln,  "I  had  a 
dream,  last  night,  and,  ever  since  the  war 
began,  I  have  invariably  had  the  same 
dream  before  any  very  important  military 
•  vent  has  occurred."  He  then  instanced 
Bull  Run,  Antietam,  Gettysburg,  etc.,  and 
said  that  before  each  of  those  events  he 
had  had  the  same  dream,  and,  turning  to 
Secretary  Welles,  continued,  "  It  is  in 
your  lir.e,  too,  INfr.  Welles.  The  dream  is, 
that  1  saw  a  ship  sailing  verj'  rapidlj',  and 
I  am  sure  that  it  jiortends  some  important 
national  event." 

In  the  aftcir.oon,  the  jiresident  had  a 
long  and  pleasant  interview  with  General 
Oglesby,  Senator  Yates,  and  other  leading 
citizens  of  Illinois. 

At  about  half-past  seven  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  Hon.  George  Ashmun,  of  Massa- 
chusetts, who  presided  over  the  Chicago 
Convention  in  1860,  called  at  the  White 
House,  and  was  ushered  into  the  parlor, 
where  Mr.  Colfax  was  seated,  waiting  for 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


880 


an  interview  with  the  president,  on  hnsi- 
ness  which  had  a  bearing  on  liis  })roposed 
overhmd  trip.  A  few  moments  elapsed, 
wlien  President  Lincoln  entered  the  room, 
and  engaged  in  conversation  upon  various 
matters,  appearing  to  be  in  a  very  hapi>y 
and  jovial  frame  of  mind.  He  spoke  of 
his  visit  to  Richmond,  and  when  they 
stated  that  there  was  much  uneasiness  at 
the  north  while  he  was  in  that  city,  for 
fear  that  he  might  be  shot,  he  replied, 
jocularly,  that  he  would  have  been  alarmed 
himself  if  any  other  person  had  been  pres- 
ident and  gone  there,  but  that  personally 
he  did  not  feel  any  danger  whatever. 
Conversing  on  a  matter  of  business  with 
Mr.  Ashmun,  he  made  a  remark  that  he 
saw  Mr.  Ashmun  was  surprised  at,  and, 
though  not  very  important,  he  immediately 
said,  with  his  well-known  kindness  of 
heart, — 

*'  You  did  not  understand  me,  Ashmun. 
I  did  not  mean  what  you  inferred,  and  I 
take  it  all  back  and  apologize  for  it." 

Mr.  Ashmun  desiring  to  see  him  again, 
and  there  being  no  time  to  attend  to  it 
tlien,  the  president  took  out  a  card,  and 
j)lacing  it  on  his  knee,  wrote  as  follows  ; 

"  Allow  Mr.  Ashmun  and  friend  to  come 
to  me  at  nine  A.  m.,  to-morrow. 

April  14,  '65.  A.  Lincoln." 

These  were  tl.e  last  words  that  he 
penned.  It  was  the  last  time  that  he 
signed  his  name  to  any  order,  document  or 
message.  The  last  words  written  by  him 
were  thus  making  an  engagement  for  the 
morrow — an  engagement  which  he  was  not 
allowed  to  meet.  Before  the  hour  had 
arrived  he  was  no  more.  After  signing 
the  card,  he  said,  humorously,  to  Mr. 
Colfax, — 

"  Mr.  Sumner  has  the  gavel  of  the  Con- 
federate Congress,  which  he  got  at  Rich- 
mond, to  hand  to  the  secretary  of  war ;  but 
I  insisted  then  that  he  must  give  it  to  you, 
and  you  tell  him  for  me  to  hand  it  over." 

Mr.  Ashmun  here  pleasantl}'  alluded  to 
the  gavel  which  he  himself  still  had — llie 
same  one  he  had  used  when  presiding  over 
the  Chicago  Nominating  Convention  of 
1860. 


President  Lincoln  finally  stated  that  he 
must  go  lo  the  theater,  and,  saying,  '■  You 
are  going  with  Mrs.  Lincoln  and  me  to  the 
theater,  I  hope,"  warmly  pressed  Speaker 
Colfax  and  Mr.  Ashmun  to  accompany 
them,  but  they  excused  themselves  on  the 
score  of  previous  engagements.  It  was 
now  half  an  hour  after  the  time  when  they 
had  intended  to  start,  and.  they  spoke 
about  waiting  half  an  hour  longer, — the 
president  going  with  reluctance,  as  Gen- 
eral Grant  had  that  evening  gone  north, 
and  Mr.  Lincoln  did  not  wish  the  people 
to  be  disappointed,  it  having  been  an- 
nounced in  the  afternoon  papers  that  the 
president,  Mrs.  Lincoln,  and  General 
Grant,  would  attend  the  theater  that  even- 
ing, to  witness  the  representation  of  the 
"American  Cousin."  At  the  door,  Mr. 
Lincoln  stopped  and  said, — 

"Colfax,  do  not  forget  to  tell  the  j)eoiile 
in  the  mining  regions,  as  you  pass  through 
them,  what  I  told  you  this  morning  about 
the  development  when  peace  comes,  and  I 
■will  telegraph  3'ou  at  San  Erancisco." 

Starting  for  the  carriage,  Mrs.  Lincoln 
took  the  arm  of  Mr.  Ashmun,  and  the 
president  and  Mr.  Colfax  walked  together. 
As  soon  as  the  president  and  Mrs.  Lincoln 
were  seated  in  the  carriage,  Mrs  Lincoln 
gave  orders  to  the  coachman  to  drive 
around  to  Senator  Harris's  residence,  for 
Miss  Harris.  As  the  carriage  rolled, 
away,  they  both  said  '  Good-by, — Good- 
by,"  to  Messrs.  Ashmun  and  Colfax.  A 
few  moments  later,  and  the  jiresidential 
party  of  four  persons,  namely,,  the  presi- 
dent and  Mrs.  Lincoln,  Miss  Harris,  and 
Major  Rathbone,  arrived  at  the  theater 
and  entered  the  front  and  left-hand  upper 
private  box. 

The  deeply-laid  plan  of  Booth  to  murder 
the  president  was  soon  to  culminate  in 
horrid  and  fatal  execution.  According  to 
the  very  reliable  account  given  bj^  the 
Hon.  H.  J.  Raymond,  in  his  biography  of 
the  martyred  president,  and  in  which 
account  there  is  exhibited  the  most  pains- 
taking synopsis  of  the  accumulated  evi- 
dence concerning  Booth's  movements,  the 
murderer  made  his  appearance  at  fifteen 


890 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


THE   ASSAS.Sl>ATluN   OF   I'KliSlDENT   LINCOLN. 

minutes  after  ten,  passed  along  tlie  pas- 
sage behind  the  spectators  in  the  dres.-- 
circle,  showed  a  card  to  the  president's 
messenger,  and  stood  for  two  or  three  min- 
utes looking  down  upon  the  stage  and  the 
orchestra  below.  He  then  entered  the 
vestibule  of  the  president's  box,  closed  the 
door  behind  him,  and  fastened  it  by  brac- 
ing a  short  plaidc  against  it  from  the  wall, 
so  that  it  could  not  be  opened  from  the 
outside.  He  then  drew  a  small  silver- 
mounted  Derringer  pistol,  which  he  car- 
ried in  his  right  hand,  holding  a  long 
double-edged  dagger  in  his  left.  All  in 
the  box  were  intent  on  the  proceedings 
upon  the  stage ;  but  President  Lincoln 
was  leaning  forward,  holding  aside  the 
curtain  of  the  box  with  his  left  hand,  and 
looking,  with  his  head  slightly  turned, 
towards  the  audience.  Booth  stejiped 
within  the  inner  door  into  the  box,  directly 
behind    the    president,   and,    holding    the 


pistol  just  over  the  back  of  the 
chair  in  which  he  sat,  shot  him 
through  the  back  of  the  head. 
's  head  fell  slightly  forward, 
and  his  eyes  closed,  but  in  every  other 
respect  his  attitude  remained  unchanged. 
The  report  of  the  pistol  startled  those 
in  the  box,  and  Major  Rathbone,  turn- 
ing his  eyes  from  the  stage,  saw,  through 
the  smoke  that  filled  the  box,  a  man 
standing  between  him  and  the  president. 
He  instantly  sprang  towards  him  and 
seized  him ;  but  Booth  wrested  himself 
from  his  grasp,  and,  drojiping  the  pis- 
tol, struck  at  him  with  the  dagger,  in- 
flicting a  severe  wound  upon  his  left 
arm,  near  the  shoulder.  Booth  then 
rushed  to  the  front  of  the  box,  shouted 
"Sic  scivjjer  ft/mnnis  /  " — put  his  hand 
upon  the  railing  in  front  of  the  box,  and 
leaped  over  it  upon  the  stage  below.  As 
he  went  over,  his  spur  caught  in  the  flag 
which  draped  the  front,  and  he  fell ;  but 
recovering  himself  immediately,  he  rose, 
brandished  the  dagger,  and  facing  the 
audience,  shouted,  "  Tlie  Soutli  is 
avenr/ed ! '^  He  then  rvished  across  the 
stage  towards  the  passage  which  led  to  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMOEAP.LE  EVENTS. 


891 


stage  door  in  the  re.ar  of  the  theater.  An 
actor  name<l  Hawke  was  the  only  person 
on  the  stage  when  Booth  leaped  upon  it, 
and  seeing  Booth  coming  towards  him 
with  the  dagger  in  his  hand,  he  ran  oU  the 
stage  and  up  a  flight  of  stairs.  Booth  ran 
through  the  passage-way  beside  the  scenes, 
meeting  one  or  two  persons  only,  whom  he 
struck  from  his  path,  went  out  at  the  door 
which  stood  open,  and  which  he  closed 
behind  him,  and  mounting  a  horse  which 
he  had  brought  there,  and  which  a  lad  was 
holding  for  him,  he  rode  over  the  Anacosta 
bridge,  across  the  east  branch  of  the  Poto- 
mac, safely  escaping  to  Lower  Maryland. 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  scene 
which  transpired  in  that  box  and  in  that 
vast  audience,  on  the  discovery  that  the 
president  was  shot.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that 
the  surgeon-general  and  other  physicians 
were  immediately  summoned,  and  their 
skill  exhausted  in  efforts  to  restore  him  to 
consciousness.  An  examination  of  his 
wounds,  however,  showed  that  no  hopes 
could  be  given  that  his  life  would  be 
spared. 

Preparations  were  at  once  made  to  re- 
move him,  and  he  was  conveyed  to  a  house 
immediately  opposite,  and  there  placed 
upon  a  bed,  the  only  evidence  of  life  being 


HOUSE  WHEUE    LINCOLN   PIED. 

an  occasional  nervous  twitching  of  the 
hand  and  heavy  breathing.  At  about  half- 
past  eleven,  the  motion  of  the  muscles  of 
his  face  indicated  as  if  he  were  trying  to 
speak,  but  doubtless  it  was  merely  muscu- 
lar. His  eyes  protruded  from  their  sock- 
ets and  were  suffused  with  blood. 


At  his  bedside  wei-e  the  secretaries  of 
war,  the  navy  and  the  interior ;  the  post- 
master-general and  attorney-general ;  Sen- 
ator Sumner;  General  Todd,  cousin  to 
Mrs.  Lincoln  ;  Major  Hay,  Mr.  M.  B. 
Field,  General  Halleck,  General  Meigs, 
Kev.  Doctor  Gurley,  the  physicians,  and  a 
few  other  persons.  All  were  bathed  in 
tears ;  and  Secretary  Stanton,  when  in- 
formed by  Surgeon-General  Barnes,  that 
the  president  could  not  li""^  until  morning, 
exclaimed,  "Oh,  no,  General;  no — no;" 
and  with  an  impulse,  natural  as  it  was 
unaffected,  immediately  sat  down  and 
wept  like  a  child.  Senator  Sumner  was 
seated  at  the  right  of  the  president,  near 
the  head,  holding  the  right  hand  of  the 
president  in  his  own  ;  he  was  sobbing  like 
a  woman,  Avith  his  head  bowed  down 
almost  upon  the  pillow  of  the  bed.  In  an 
adjoining  room  were  ]\Irs.  Lincoln,  and 
several  others. 

Mrs.  L'ncoln  was  in  a  state  of  great 
excitement  and  agony,  wringing  her  hands 
and  exclaiming,  '-Why  did  he  not  shoot 
me,  instead  of  my  husband !  I  have  tried 
to  be  so  careful  of  him,  fearing  something 
would  happen,  and  his  life  seemed  to  be 
more  precious  now  than  ever.  I  must  go 
with  him  !  " — and  other  expressions  of  like 
character.  She  was  constantly  going  to 
and  from  the  bedside  of  the  president,  say- 
ing in  utter  grief,  "How  can  it  be  so!" 
The  scene  was  heart-rending.  Captain 
Robert  Lincoln  bore  himself  Avith  great 
firmness,  and  constantly  endeavored  to 
assuage  the  grief  of  his  mother  by  telling 
her  to  put  her  trust  in  God  and  all  would 
be  well.  Occasionally,  however,  being 
entirely  overcome,  he  would  retire  by  him- 
self and  give  vent  to  most  piteous  lamen- 
tations. 

At  four  o'clock,  the  symptoms  of  restless- 
ness returned,  and  at  six  the  premonitions 
of  dissolution  set  in.  His  face,  which  had 
been  quite  pale,  began  to  assume  a  waxen 
transparency,  the  jaw  slowly  fell,  and  the 
teeth  became  exposed.  About  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  before  the  president  died,  his 
breathing  became  very  difficult,  and  in 
many  instances  seemed  to  have    entirely 


892 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ceased.  He  would  again  rally  and  breathe 
Avith  so  great  difficulty  as  to  be  heard  in 
almost  every  part  of  the  house.  Mrs. 
Lincoln  took  her  last  leave  of  him  about 
twenty  minutes  before  he  expired,  and  was 
sitting  in  the  adjoining  room  when  it  was 
announced  to  her  that  he  was  dead. 
Wlien  this  announcement  was  made,  she 
exclaimed,  "  Oh  !  why  did  you  not  tell  me 
that  he  was  dying  !  " 

The  surgeons  and  the  members  of  the 
cabinet.  Senator  Sumner,  Captain  Robert 
Lincoln,  General  Todd,  Mr.  Field,  and 
one  or  two  more,  were  standing  at  his 
bed-side  when  he  breathed  his  last.     Rob- 


ert Lincoln  was  resting  himself  tenderly 
upon  the  arm  of  Senator  Sumner,  the 
mutual  embrace  of  the  two  having  all  the 
affectionateness  of  father  and  son.  The 
surgeons  were  sitting  upon  the  side  and 
foot  of  the  bed,  holding  the  president's 
hands,  and  with  their  watches  observing 
the  slow  declension  of  the  pulse,  and 
watching  the  ebbing  out  of  the  vital  spirit. 

He  lingered  longer  than  was  expected; 
until,  at  twenty-two  minutes  past  seven 
o'clock,  in  the  morning,  April  fifteenth, 
till'  physician  said,  with  solemn  accent  and 
overpowering  emotion, — 

"  Ha  is  gone  ;  lie  is  dead." 

Such  was  the  deep  stillness,  in  that 
awful  presence,  at  the  fatal  announcement. 


that  for  the  space  of  five  minutes  the  tick- 
ing of  the  watches  could  be  distinctly 
heard.  All  stood  transfixed  in  their  posi- 
tions, speechless,  breathless,  around  the 
dead  body  of  that  great  and  good  man. 
At  length  the  secretary  of  war  broke  the 
silence  and  said  to  Rev.  Doctor  Gurle}-, 
"  Doctor,  will  you  say  anything  ?  "  He 
replied,  "  I  will  speak  to  God."  "  Do  it 
just  now,"  responded  the  secretary.  And 
there,  by  the  side  of  the  fallen  chief,  a  fer- 
vent prayer  was  offered  wp,  at  the  close  of 
which  there  arose  from  the  lips  of  the 
entire  company  a  fervid  and  spontaneous 
"  Amen." 

No  adequate  portrayal  can  be 
given  of  the  effect  upon  the 
public  mind,  of  the  murder  of 
the  president,  as  the  news  was 
borne  along  the  telegraphic 
wires,  from  one  end  of  the  land 
to  the  other.  Stunned,  bewil- 
dered, incredulous,  at  first,  the 
tears  and  wailing  of  a  whole 
nation  were  soon  manifest  — 
deep  answering  unto  deep — to 
an  extent  and  degree  never  be- 
fore witnessed  since  the  death 
of  Washington.  A  pang  of  hor- 
ror seized  every  heart,  in  this 
darkest  hour  of  the  country's 
history,  the  emblems  of  mourn- 
ing shrouded  the  land  in  very 
darkness — its  streets,  its  habita- 
tions, its  churches,  its  halls  of  justice,  its 
Capitols,  —  funeral  pageants  everywhere 
hushed  the  noise  of  business, —  and  the 
solemn  voice  of  eulogy  and  lamentation, 
and  the  sound  of  dirge  and  requiem,  filled 
the  air,  from  the  mountains  of  the  north 
to  the  prairies  and  valleys  of  the  west  and 
the  golden  sIojjos  of  the  far-off  Pacific. 

If,  in  the  blind  and  fatal  mistake  of 
sectional  antagonism  or  partisan  bitterness, 
this  most  infamous  of  human  crimes  found 
apologists,  there  were,  at  least,  some  nota- 
ble exceptions  to  this  feeling.  Thus, 
when  the  tidings  reached  Richmond,  Gen- 
eral Lee  at  first  refused  to  hear  the  details 
of  the  horrid  deed,  from  the  two  gentlemen 
who  waited  upon  him  on   Sunday  night 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


893 


with  the  particulars.  He  said,  tliat  wlion 
he  dispossessed  liimself  of  the  command  of 
the  confederate  forces,  he  kept  in  view  Pres- 
ident Lincoln's  benignity,  and  surrendered 
as  much  to  the  latter's  goodness  as  to 
Grant's  artillery.  The  general  said  that 
he  regretted  Mr.  Lincoln's  death  as  much 
as  any  man  in  the  north,  and  believed  him 
to  be  the  epitome  of  magnanimity  and  good 
faith. 

On  the  nineteenth  of  April,  the  New 
World  witnessed  the  most  imi)osing  fu- 
neral ceremonies  that  ever  took  place  this 
side  of  the  Atlantic,  or  perhaps  in  the 
whole  world.  The  body,  which  had  been 
embalmed,  lay  in  state  in  the  Green  Room 
of  the  White  House,  the  cofRn  resting 
upon   a    magnificent  catafalque,    and  the 


The   description  given  b}'    Holland,   of 
the   procession   in  the  federal  metropolis, 
will  ap[)l3',  in  its  main  features,  to  all  the 
corteges     in    the    various    cities     through 
which  the  honored  remains  passed.     "Ev- 
ery piazza,  window,  verandah  and  house- 
top,  was  filled   with   eager  but  mournful 
faces.     Funereal    music    filled    the    sweet 
spring  air ;  and  this  was  the  only  sound, 
except  the  measured  tread  of  feet,  and  the 
slow    roll  of  wheels    upon  the  pavement. 
As  the  hearse,  drawn  by  six  gray  horses, 
reached    the    capitol  grounds,    the   bands 
burst    forth   in  a  requiem,    and  were   an- 
swered by  minute-guns  from  the  fortifica- 
tions.    The    body   of    the    president    was 
borne  into  the  rotunda,  where  Doctor  Gur- 
ley  completed  the  religious  exercises  of  the 


I,IKCOL>'S  RESIDENCE  AT   SPRINGFIELD,  ILL. 


grand  room  overflowing  with  flowers  which 
had  poured  in  from  innumerable  sources. 
The  public  exercises  took  place  in  the  East 
Room,  being  conducted  by  Rev.  Drs.  Hall, 
Gurley,  and  Gray,  and  Bishop  Simpson. 
The  throng  of  dignitaries,  embracing  rep- 
resentatives of  the  army  and  navy,  sena- 
tors and  members  of  congress,  judges,  for- 
eign ambassadors,  governors  of  the  states, 
and  other  high  officials,  was  such  as  had 
never  before  been  gathered  together  in  the 
executive  mansion.  From  the  latter  place, 
the  body  of  the  illustrious  deceased  was 
convej-ed,  along  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  to 
the  great  rotunda  of  the  nation's  capitol, 
thence  to  be  carried  to  their  last  resting- 
place  in  Oak  Ridge  cemetery,  Springfield, 
111. 


occasion.  Here  the  remains  rested,  ex- 
posed to  public  view,  but  guarded  by  sol- 
diery, until  the  next  daj'.  Thousands 
who  had  no  other  opportunity  to  take  their 
farewell  of  the  beloved  dust  thronged  the 
capitol  all  night.  The  procession  which 
moved  from  the  White  House,  April  19th, 
was  but  the  beginning  of  a  pageant  that 
displayed  its  marvelous  numbers  and  its 
ever-varying  forms,  through  country,  and 
village,  and  city,  winding  across  the  terri- 
tories of  vast  states,  along  a  track  of  more 
than  fifteen  hundred  miles."  During  this 
period,  millions  gazed  upon  the  loved 
features  of  the  departed  president. 

It  was  on  the  twenty-first  of  April,  that 
the  remains  were  started  upon  their  mourn- 
ful journey  to  Springfield,  111.     They  were 


894 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


taken  to  that  city  by  the  route  he  pursued 
while  on  his  way  from  his  western  home  to 
be  inaugurated  in  Washington.  Balti- 
more, Harrisburg,  Philadelphia,  New  York, 
Albany,  Buffalo,  Cleveland,  Columbus,  In- 
dianapolis, and  Chicago,  were  visited  in 
the  order  named,  and  at  each  place,  as 
well  as  all  along  the  route,  there  were 
most  extraordinary  demonstrations  of  re- 
spect and  sorrow.  Millions  of  people 
manifested,  by  every  possible  means  and 
token,  their  deep  sense  of  the  public  loss, 
and  their  appreciation  of  the  exalted  vir- 
tues which  adorned  the  life  of  Abraham 
Lincoln.  All  classes,  without  distinction 
of  politics  or  creeds,  spontaneously  united 
in  the  posthumous  honors. 

The  funeral  at  Sjiringfield  was  on  a 
beautiful  May  day.  At  noon,  the  remains 
were  brought  from  the  state  house,  in  the 
same  hearse  which  had  borne  the  bodies 


SEUGF.AXT   DOSTO.V   CORBETT. 

of  General  Lyon  and  Thomas  H.  Benton. 
Tlie  hearse  was  surmounted  by  a  crown  of 
flowers.  From  the  portico,  as  the  proces- 
sion advanced,  a  vast  chorus  of  voices  filled 
the  air  with  the  strains  of  "Children  of 
the  Heavenly  King."  Tlie  ceremonies 
were  under  the  immediate  direction  of 
General  Hooker.  A  dirge  was  sung  ;  and 
after  tlie  reading  of  scripture,  a  prayer, 
and  a  hymn,  tlie  president's  second  inau- 
gural address  was  read.  A  dirge  suc- 
ceeded, after  which  Bishop  Simpson  de- 
livered the  funeral  oration  before  tlie  great 
audience  tliere  asseml)led,  and  from  the 
midst  of  Avhich  went  forth  many  an  ejacu- 
lation of  uncontrollable  sorrow. 


And  the  illustrious  axd  belovt;d 
president,  so  recently  the  most  ex- 
alted of  mortal  rulers,  was  buried 
in  his  own  tomb. 

But  before  the  noble  departed  had  been 
consigned,  amidst  the  tears  and  lamenta- 
tions of  a  whole  continent,  to  the  earth's 
bosom,  John  Wilkes  Booth,  the  perpetra- 
tor of  the  greatest  of  modern  crimes,  had 
met  his  doom,  and  most  of  his  co-conspira- 
tors— Atzerodt,  Doctor  Mudd,  Payne,  Har- 
old, Mrs.  Surratt,  O'Laughlin,  Arnold,  and 
Spangler — were  in  the  clutches  of  the  law. 
It  was  Payne,  who,  at  the  same  time  that 
Booth's  bullet  sped  its  fatal  course,  en- 
acted his  part  of  the  conspiracy  in  which 
Booth  was  chief,  by  entering  the  sick 
chamber  of  Secretary  Seward,  stabbing 
him  in  the  throat,  and  then  escaping.  It 
was  at  Mrs,  Surratt's  house  that  the  con- 
spirators had  met  and  laid  their  jilans. 
As  alleged,  Atzerodt  was  to  have  taken  the 
life  of  Vice-President  Johnson.  O'Laugh- 
lin was  assigned  to  murder  General  Grant 
or  Secretary  Stanton.  Harold  was  the 
body  companion  of  Booth.  Spangler  as- 
sisted in  Booth's  escape  from  the  theater. 
jVEudd  had  held  interviews  with  Booth  and 
John  H.  Surratt,  son  of  Mrs.  Surratt 
named  above,  and  had  also  attended  to 
Booth's  leg,  crippled  by  his  getting  entan- 
gled with  the  flag  that  decorated  the  pr-  si- 
dent's  box.  Arnold  was  originally  in  the 
plot,  but  quarreled,  and  left  it.  Booth  was 
but  twenty-seven  years  old  at  the  time  of 
his  crime,  by  profession  an  actor,  long 
known  for  his  dissipated  habits,  and  for  his 
ardent  devotion  to  the  southern  cause. 
He  was  born  in  Harford  county,  Md.,  his 
father  being  the  once  celebrated  actor, 
Junius  Brutus  Booth,  and  his  brother 
being  Edwin  Booth,  also  famous  on  the 
stage. 

Immediately  after  the  murder.  Colonel 
Baker,  of  the  detective  service,  set  out  to 
find  Booth's  hiding-place.  He  soon  suc« 
ceeded  in  capturing  Atzerodt  and  Mudd. 
A  negro  was  then  arrested,  who  said  he 
had  seen  Booth  and  another  man  cross  the 
Potomac  in  a  fishing  boat.  Colonel  Baker 
sent  to  General  Hancock  for  twentv-five 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


895 


mounted  men  to  aid  liini  in  the  pursuit. 
Tliese  were  sent  under  Lieutenant  Dough- 
ertv,  and  Baker  i)laiH'd  them  under  the 
control  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Conger,  and 
of  his  cousin,  Lieutenant  L.  B.  Baktir,  and 
diopatched  them  to  ]>elle  Plain,  with 
orders  to  scour  the  country  about  Bort 
Ivoyal. 

At  Port  Royal  they  found  one  Rollins, 
a  fisherman,  who  referred  them  to  a  negro 
named  Lucas  as  having  driv^en  two  men  a 
short  distance  toward  Bowling  Green,  in  a 
wagon.  These  men  perfectly  answered 
the  description  of  Booth  and  Harold. 
Some  disbanded  men,  it  was  learned,  be- 
longing to  Mosby's  command,  took  Booth 
under  their  protection  on  the  way  to 
Bowling  Green,  a  small  court-house  town 
in  Caroline  county.  To  that  place.  Baker 
and  his  party  immediately  proceeded,  and 
there  found  the  captain  of  the  confederate 
cavalry,  from  whom  they  extorted  a  state- 
ment of  Booth's  whereabouts  ;  this  was  at 
the  house  of  a  Mr.  Garrett,  which  they  had 
already  passed. 

Returning  with  the  captain  for  a  guide, 
the  worn-out  command  halted  at  Garrett's 
gate,  at  two  o'clock  on  the  morning  of 
April  26th.  Without  noise,  the  house 
was  surrounded,  and  Baker  went  up  to 
the  kitchen  door  at  the  side,  and  rapped. 
An  old  man  in  half  undress  undrew  the 
bolts,  and  had  scarcely  opened  the  door 
before  Baker  had  him  by  the  throat  with 
a  pistol  at  his  ear,  and  asked,  "  Where  are 
the  men  who  stay  with  you?"  Under 
the  menace  of  instant  death,  the  old  man 
seemed  paralyzed,  but  at  Baker's  order  lit 
a  candle.  The  question  wa^  then  repeated. 
"They  are  gone,"  replied  the  old  man. 
Soon  a  young  boy  appeared,  and  told 
Baker  the  men  he  sought  were  in  the 
barn.  The  barn  was  then  surrounded. 
Baker  and  Conger  went  to  the  door.  The 
former  called  out,  signifying  his  intention 
to  have  a  surrender  on  the  part  of  the  men 
inside,  or  else  to  fire  the  barn,  and  shoot 
them  on  the  spot.  The  young  boy  was 
sent  in  to  receive  their  arms.  To  the 
boy's  message  Booth  answered  with  a 
curse,  accusing  the  boy  of  having  betrayed 


him.  The  boy  then  came  out,  and  Baker 
repeated  his  demand,  giving  Booth  five 
minutes  to  make  up  his  mind.  Booth 
replied — 

"  Who  are  you,  and  what  do  you  want 
with  us  ?  " 

"We  want  you  to  deliver  up  your  arms 
and  become  our  prisoners,"  said  Baker. 

"  But  who  are  you  ?  " 

"  That  makes  no  difference.  We  know 
who  you  are,  and  we  want  you.  We  have 
here  fifty  men  Avith  carbines  and  pistols. 
You  cannot  escape." 

"  Captain,"  said  Booth,  after  a  pause, 
"  this  is  a  hard  case,  I  swear.  Perhaps  I 
am  being  taken  by  my  own  friends." 

He  then  asked  time  to  consider,  which 
was  granted.  After  a  little  interval, 
Baker  threatened  to  fire  the  barn,  if  they 
did  not  come  out.  Booth  replied  that  he 
was  a  cripple,  and  begged  a  chance  for  his 
life,  declaring  that  he  would  fight  them 
all  at  so  many  yards  apace,  and  that  he 
would  never  be  taken  alive.  Baker  an- 
swered that  he  did  not  come  there  to  fight 
but  to  capture  him,  and  again  threatened 
to  fire  the  barn. 

"Well,  then,  my  brave  boys,"  said 
Booth,  "  prepare  a  stretcher  for  me." 

Harold  now  wanted  to  surrender,  and, 
in  the  midst  of  a  shower  of  imprecations 
from  Booth,  did  so.  Conger  then  set  fire 
to  the  barn. 

The  blaze  lit  up  the  black  recesses  of 
the  great  barn  till  every  wasp's  nest  and 
every  cobweb  in  the  roof  was  visible,  fling- 
ing streaks  of  red  and  violet  across  the 
tumbled  farm-gear  in  the  corner,  and  bath- 
ing the  murderer's  retreat  in  a  vivid  illu- 
mination, — and,  while  in  bold  outline  his 
figure  stood  revealed,  they  rose  like  an 
impenetrable  wall  to  guard  from  sight  the 
dreadful  enemy  who  lit  them.  Behind  the 
blaze,  with  his  eye  to  a  crack.  Conger  saw 
Wilkes  Booth  standing  upright  upon  a 
crutch.  At  the  gleam  of  fire.  Booth 
dropped  his  crutch  and  carbine,  and  on 
both  hands  crept  up  to  the  spot  to  espy 
the  incendiary  and  shoot  him  dead.  His 
eyes  were  lustrous  as  with  fever,  and 
swelled    and    rolled    in    terrible     anxiety, 


89G 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-187G. 


while  his  teeth  were  fixed,  and  he  wore 
the  expression  of  one  in  the  calmness  pre- 
ceding frenz}'.  In  vain  he  peered,  with 
vengeance  in  his  look :  the  blaze  that 
made  him  visible  concealed  his  pursuers. 
A  second  he  turned  glaring  at  the  fire,  as 
if  to  leap  upon  and  extinguish  it,  but  the 
flames  had  made  such  headway  that  this 
was  a  futile  impulse,  and  he  dismissed  it. 
As  calmly  as  upon  the  battle-field  a  vet- 


bett  fired  through  a  crevice  and  shot  Booth 
in  the  neck. 

They  then  took  up  the  wounded  man 
and  carried  him  out  on  the  grass,  a  little 
way  from  the  door,  beneath  a  locust  tree. 
Conger  went  back  to  the  barn,  to  see  if 
the  fire  could  be  put  out,  but  found  it 
could  not,  and  returned  to  where  Booth 
was  lying.  Before  this  (says  Lieutenant 
Congei*,  in  his  official  account),  I  supposed 


BURIAL  PLACK   OF   LIXCOLX. 


eran  stands  amidst  the  hail  of  liall  and 
shell  and  plunging  iron,  ]^ooth  turned  at 
a  man's  stride  and  pushed  for  the  door, 
weapon  in  poise,  and  the  last  resolve  of 
death — despair — set  on  his  high,  bloodless 
forehead. 

At  this  instant,  Sergeant  Boston  Cor- 


him  to  be  dead;  he  had  all  the  appearance 
of  a  dead  man  ;  but  when  I  came  back,  his 
eyes  and  mouth  were  moving.  I  called 
immediately  for  water,  and  put  some  on 
his  face.  He  seemed  to  revive,  and  at- 
tempted to  speak.  I  put  my  ear  down  to 
his  mouth,  and  heard  him  say,  "Tell  my 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


897 


mother  I  died  for  my  country."  I  re- 
peated the  words  to  him,  and  said,  "  Is 
tliat  wluit  you  would  say  ? "  He  said 
"  Yes."  They  carried  him  to  the  porch  of 
Garrett's  house,  and  laid  him  on  a  straw 
h(.'(l  or  tii'k.  At  that  time  he  revived  con- 
siderably, and  could  talk  in  a  whisper,  so 
as  to  be  intelligibly  understood.  He  could 
not  speak  above  a  whisper.  He  wanted 
water ;  I  gave  it  to  him.  He  wanted  to 
turn  on  his  face ;  I  said  he  couldn't  lie  in 
that  position.  He  wanted  to  be  turned  on 
his  side  ;  we  turned  him  on  his  side  three 
times,  but  he  could  not  lie  with  any  com- 
fort, and  asked  immediately  to  be  turned 
back.  He  asked  me  to  put  my  hand  on 
his  throat,  and  press  down,  which  I  did. 
He  said  "Harder;"  I  pressed  as  hard  as 
I  thought  necessary.  He  made  a  very 
strong  exertion  to  cough,  but  was  unable 
to  do  so.  I  suppose  he  thouGjht  there  w^as 
blood  in  his  throat.  I  asked  him  to  jnit 
out  his  tongue,  which  he  did.  I  said, 
"There  is  no  blood  in  your  throat."  He 
repeated  several  times,  "Kill  me!  kill 
me  !  "  I  replied,  "  I  do  not  want  to  kill 
you.     I  want  you  to  get  well." 

When  the  doctor  arrived,  whom  Conger 
had  sent  for.  Booth  asked  to  have  his 
hands  raised  and  shown  him.  When  this 
was  done,  he  muttered  "  Useless,  useless ! " 
These  were  his  last  words.  He  died  about 
four  hours  after  being  shot. 

The  solemn  trial  of  the  other  accom- 
plices in  this  great  crime  of  conspiracy 
and  murder,  soon  took  place  in  the  city  of 
Washington,  before  a  military  commission 
consisting  of  Generals  Hunter,  Howe, 
Harris,  Wallace,  Kautz,  Foster,  Ekin ; 
Colonels  Clendenin,  Tompkins,  and  Bur- 
nett ;  Judges  Bingham  and  Holt.  The 
last  named  held  the  position  of  Judge- 
Advocate-General  of  the  court,  and  Major- 
General  Hunter  officiated  as  president. 

The  charges  upon  which  Payne  was 
arrested  and  tried  were,  that  he  was  a 
confederate  of  Booth  in  the  general  con- 
spiracy to  kill  the  president,  vice-president, 
General  Grant,  and  Secretary  Seward,  so 
as  thus  to  deprive  the  armv  and  navy  of  a 

constitutional  commander-in-chief,  and  to 
67 


prevent  a  lawful  election  of  president  ajid 
vice-president  by  the  vacancy  thus  made 
in  the  office  of  secretary  of  state, — the  duty 
of  the  latter  officer  being,  in  case  of  the 
death  of  the  president  and  vice-president, 
to  cause  an  election  to  be  held  for  i)resi- 
dential  electors.  The  arraignment  of  all 
the  parties  was  upon  this  general  charge, 
with  specifications  in  each  case. 

Against  Payne,  the  specification  was 
tliat  of  attempting  to  kill  Secretary  Sew- 
ard. Presenting  himself  at  the  door  of 
Mr.  Seward's  residence,  he  gained  admis- 
sion by  representing  that  he  had  a  pre- 
scription from  Mr.  Seward's  physician, 
which  he  was  directed  to  see  administered, 
and  hurried  up  to  the  third-story  chamber, 
where  Mr.  Seward  was  lying  sick.  He 
here  discovered  Mr.  Frederick  Seward, 
struck  him  over  the  head,  inflicting  severe 
wounds,  and  then  rushed  into  the  room 
where  Mr.  Seward  was  in  bed,  attended  by 
a  young  daughter  and  a  male  nurse.  The 
assassin  stabbed  the  latter  in  the  lungs, 
and  then  struck  Secretary  Seward  w'ith  a 
dasecer  twice  in  the  face  and  twice  in  the 
throat,  inflicting  terrible  wounds.  By  this 
time  Major  Seward,  eldest  son  of  the  sec- 
retary, and  another  attendant,  reached  the 
room,  and  rushed  to  the  rescue  of  the  sec- 
retary ;  they  were  also  wounded  in  the 
conflict,  and  the  assassin  escaped. 

Spangler,  who  was  employed  at  the  the- 
ater, was  tried  for  aiding  and  assisting 
Booth  to  obtain  an  entrance  to  the  box  in 
which  President  Lincoln  sat  in  the  thea- 
ter, and  for  barring  or  obstructing  the 
door  of  the  passage-way,  so  as  to  hinder 
pursuit. 

Atzerodt  was  charged  with  lying  in  wait 
to  murder  Vice-President  Johnson,  at  the 
Kirkwood  House,  where  the  latter  was 
stopping.  He  took  a  room  at  that  house, 
on  the  morning  of  April  14th,  and  was 
there  at  different  times  during  the  day  and 
evening,  under  suspicious  circumstances. 
Though  in  active  co-operation  with  Booth 
and  his  accomplices,  he  failed  in  executing 
the  part  particularly  delegated  to  him. 

In  the  further  programme  of  the  great 
conspiracy,   O'Laughlin   was  to    take  the 


S'J8 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


life  of  General  Grant,  and  on  this  charge 
and  specification  he  was  indicted  and  tried, 
though  he  failed,  like  Atzerodt,  to  accom- 
plish the  bloody  deed. 

Mrs.  Surratt  was  charged  with  having 
"  on  or  before  the  sixth  day  of  March, 
1865,  and  on  divers  other  days  and  times 
between  that  day  and  the  twentieth  of 
April,  1865,  received,  entertained,  har- 
bored and  concealed,  aided  and  assisted " 
the  conspirators  in  the  execution  of  their 
plans.  She  was  charged  with  being  cog- 
nizant of  the  intended  crime  almost  from 
its  inception,  becoming  an  active  partici- 
pant and  general  manager.  With  Doctor 
Madd,  it  was  charged,  she  planned  the 
means  and  assistance  for  the  escape  of  the 
assassins,  and  visited  Mudd  at  five  o'clock 
on  the  day  of  the  assassination,  to  see  that 
certain  weapons  were  in  readiness.  Booth 
had  frequent  interviews  at  her  house, 
and  was  with  her  on  the  afternoon  of  the 
fourteenth. 

The  part  taken  by  Doctor  Mudd,  in  the 
tragedy,  was  described  in  the  indictment 
as  that  of  an  accomplice.  He  was,  it  ap- 
peared, in  the  confidence  of  Booth  several 
mouths  prior  to  the  assassination.  In 
January,  he  had  an  interview  with  John 
H.  Surratt  and  Booth,  at  the  National 
Hotel.  He  introduced  Booth  to  Surratt, 
and  was  visited  by  Booth  at  the  Pennsyl- 
vania House.  When  the  assassins  fled  to 
his  house,  he  dressed  Booth's  wound  and 
assisted  in  the  esca[»e  of  both  Booth  and 
Harold.      When  the  officers  called  at  his 


house,  soon  after  the  assassination,  he 
denied  that  he  knew  either  of  the  crimin- 
als, but  subsequently,  after  his  arrest,  he 
admitted  the  fact  of  his  acquaintance  with 
Booth ;  both  of  the  fugitives  were  well 
cared  for  by  him  at  his  house. 

Arnold  was  tried  for  being  one  of  the 
original  conspirators,  but  it  was  not 
charged  that  he  maintained  any  active 
relation  to  the  plot  at  the  time  appointed 
for  its  execution.  His  guilt  consisted  in 
being  an  accomplice  before  the  act. 

Harold's  complicity  admitted,  of  course, 
of  no  doubt.  On  the  night  of  the  assas- 
sination he  was  seen  at  the  livery  stable 
with  Booth,  and  on  various  occasions  he 
was  known  to  have  held  secret  meetings 
with  Booth,  Atzerodt,  and  others  of  the 
conspiracy,  at  Mrs.  Surratt's  and  else- 
where. During  his  flight  with  Booth,  he 
acknowledged  to  confederate  soldiers  that 
he  and  Booth  had  made  way  with  the 
president. 

Atzerodt,  Harold,  Payne,  and  Mrs.  Sur- 
ratt, were  found  guilty  of  crimes  deserving 
death,  and  were  hanged  therefor  on  the 
seventh  of  July,  1865.  Arnold,  O'Laugh- 
lin,  and  Mudd,  were  sent  to  the  Dry  Tor- 
tugas  for  hard  labor  during  life ;  and 
Spangler  for  sixj'ears  of  hard  labor,  at  the 
same  place.  John  H.  Surratt,  son  of  ]\Irs. 
Surratt  above  named,  and  avIio  was  also 
indicted,  fled  to  Europe  ;  being  discovered, 
he  was  arrested  and  sent  to  Washington, 
but,  after  a  protracted  trial  by  jury,  es- 
caped conviction. 


ciy. 

SUCCESSFUL  LAYING  OF  THE  TELEGRAPH  CABLE 
ACROSS  THE  ATLANTIC  OCEAN.— 1866. 


Tlie  Old  World  and  the  New  United  by  Instantaneous  Communication. — Pronounced  the  Grandest  of 
Human  Enterprises— Ten  Years  of  Difficulty  and  Failure  in  the  Mighty  Task — The  Name  of  Its 
IndomiUbie  Projector  Crowned  with  Immortal  Honor— Illustrations  of  the  Power  and  Wonders  of 
this  New-Born  Agent  of  Civihzation. — Ocean  Telegraphs  Early  Predicted — First  Attempt  in  1857. — 
Breaking  of  the  Wire— Fresh  but  Abortive  Trials  in  '58  and  '65.— Great  Preparations  for  1866.— 
Exquisite  Construction  of  the  Cable  —A  Wealthy  and  Powerful  Company —Cyrus  W.  Field,  Its  Mas- 
ter Spirit.— Employment  of  the  Great  Eastern.— Laying  the  Shore  End  at  Valentia.— Rejoicing  of  the 
Inliabitants —Voyage  of  the  Fleet  to  America — Incidents  and  Accidents. — Intense  Solicitude,  Day 
and  Night.— A  Joyous  Morning !  July  27tli.— Perfect  Success  from  End  to  End —First  News  Dispatch, 
Peace  in  Europe. — Messages  Between  the  President  and  Queen. — Compliments  to  Mr.  Field.— Hig 
Interview  with  Lord  Clarendon  —John  Bright's  Sparkling  Tribute.— Moral  Uses  of  the  Cable. 


"Heart's  Co!fTENT,  July  27th.    "We  arrived  here  at  nine  o'clock,  this  morning.    AllwelL    Thank  God,  the  cable  is  laid,  and  i«  in  perfect 
irorkiDg  order.— CrKus  W.  hiBLD. 


SECTIOX  OF  THE   ATLANTIC  CABLE. 


^NECESSARY  would  be  the  task  of  detailing,  in  this 
place, — additional  to  those  pages  already  devoted  to  Pro- 
fessor Morse's  grand  discovery,  and  its  jiractical  appli- 
cation the  world  wide, — the  technical  principles  and 
operations  involved  in  the  science  of  telegraphic  com- 
munication. 

It  was  early  declared  by  Professor  Morse,  and  by  other 
distinguished  investigators  of  the  nature  and  powers  of 
the  electric  current,  that  neither  the  ocean  itself,  nor  the  distance  to  be  traversed,  pre- 
sented any  insuj^erable  obstacle  to  the  laying  of  submerged  oceanic  lines  from  conti- 
nent to  continent,  and  the  confident  prophecy  that  such  lines  would  eventually  be 
undertaken  was  freely  uttered  and  discussed  in  learned  circles. 

It  was  not,  however,  until  the  year  1857,  that  an  attempt  was  made  to  stretch  a  tele- 
graphic wire  across  the  bed  of  the  Atlantic.  The  cable  was  coiled  half  on  board  the 
United  States  steamship  Niagara,  and  half  on  the  British  steamer  Agamemnon.  They 
began  to  lay  it  in  mid-ocean  on  the  2Gth  of  June,  the  Niagara  proceeding  toward  the 
American  coast,  the  Agamemnon  toward  Ireland.  After  the  wire  had  three  times 
broken,  the  attempt  was  given  up.  The  following  August  it  was  renewed  on  a  different 
plan.  The  shore-end  was  made  fast  at  Valentia  Bay,  and  the  Niagara  began  paying 
out  on  the  seventh,  the  arrangement  being  that  the  Agamemnon  should  begin  opera- 
tions when  the  Niagara  had  exhausted  her  half  of  the  cable.  On  the  eleventh,  after 
three  hundred  and  thirty-five  miles  had  been  laid,  the  wire  broke  again.  The  third 
attempt  was  made  with  the  same  vessels  in  1858.     The  ends  of  the  cable  were  joined 


900 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


in  mid-ocean,  July  29th,  and,  August  6th, 
the  two  vessels  arrived  simultaneously  at 
their  respective  destinations.  This  cable 
worked  for  a  time,  but  the  electric  current 
grew  weak  and  finally  failed  altogether. 

But  these  repeated  failures,  though  a 
severe  disajipointment  to  those  engaged  in 
the  great  and  costly  enterprise,  did  not 
destroy  their  faith  in  its  feasibility,  and 
the  might}'  task  was  begun  anew,  advan- 
tage being  taken  of  whatever  instruction 
past  experience  could  furnish  or  suggest. 

Especial  care  had,  it  is  true,  been  exer- 
cised in  the  previous  undertaking,  to  have 
the  construction  of  the  cable  itself  as  per- 
fect as  possible.  It  was  the  result  of 
many  months'  thouglit,  experiment,  and 
trial.  Hundreds  of  specimens  were  made, 
comprising  every  variety  of  form,  size,  and 
structure,  and  most  severely  tested  as  to 
their  powers  and  capabilities ;  and  the 
result  was  the  adoption  of  one  which,  it 
was  believed,  possessed  all  the  properties 
required,  in  a  far  higher  degree  than  any 
cable  that  had  yet  been  laid.  Its  flexibil- 
ity was  such  as  to  make  it  as  manageable 
as  a  small  line,  and  its  strength  such  that 
it  would  bear,  in  water,  over  six  miles  of 
its  own  weight  suspended  vertically.  The 
conducting  medium  consisted  not  of  one 
single  straight  copper  wire,  but  of  seven 
wires  of  copper  of  the  best  quality,  twisted 
round  each  other  spirally,  and  capable  of 
undergoing  great  tension  without  injury. 
This  conductor  was  then  enveloped  in 
three  separate  coverings  of  gutta  percha, 
of  the  best  quality,  forming  the  core  of 
the  cable,  round  wdiich  tarred  hemp  was 
wrapped,  and  over  this,  the  outside  cover- 
ing, consisting  of  eighteen  strands  of  the 
best  quality  of  iron  wire, — each  strand 
composed  of  seven  distinct  wires,  twisted 
spirally,  in  tlie  most  approved  manner,  by 
machinery  specially  adapted  to  the  pur- 
pose. Such  was  the  exquisitely  constructed 
cable  used  on  this  occasion. 

Great  attention  was  also  paid  to  the 
arrangement  of  the  apparatus  for  paying 
out.  The  machine  for  this  ])uri)ose  was 
I)laced  on  deck  in  the  after-i)art  of  the 
vessel,  and  somewhat  on  the  starboard  side, 


to  be  clear  of  the  mast,  etc.  The  cable,  as 
it  came  vip  from  its  enormous  coils  in  the 
hold,  passed  first  through  a  guiding  groove 
and  over  a  deeply  grooved  wheel,  on  to  the 
drums,  each  of  the  latter  being  furnished 
with  four  deep  grooves,  each  groove  being 
cut  one-eighth  of  an  inch  deeper  than  the 
former  to  allow  for  slack.  The  cable,  after 
winding  round  these  drums,  passed  on 
from  the  last  groove  over  another  guiding 
wheel,  to  a  distinct  piece  of  machinery, 
also  standing  on  the  deck,  and  half-way 
between  the  brakes  and  the  ship's  stern. 
Here  a  grooved  wheel  worked  on  a  sliding 
frame,  furnished  with  weights  fixed  on  a 
rod,  which  ended  in  a  piston,  inside  of  a 
cylinder,  full  of  water.  This  piston,  being 
made  not  quite  large  enough  to  fit  the 
cylinder,  the  water  liad  room  to  play  about 
it,  but  with  difficulty — so  that,  yielding 
freely  to  CAerj^  alteration  of  pressure,  it 
could  do  so  to  none  with  a  jerk,  as  the 
piston  required  some  little  time  to  dislodge 
the  water  from  one  side  of  it  to  the  other,  it 
acting,  in  short,  as  a  water  cushion.  From 
this  last  piece  of  machinery  the  cable 
l^assed  over  a  wheel  or  sheave  projecting 
well  over  the  stern  of  the  ship,  and  so 
down  into  the  ocean  dejiths. 

So  intelligent  and  powerful  an  associa- 
tion as  that  which  had  this  great  enter- 
prise in  charge — an  association  composed 
of  some  of  the  leading  merchants  and  cap- 
italists of  England  and  America,  guided 
by  the  wonderful  genius  of  Mr.  Cyrus  AV. 
Field, — might  well  be  su]  posed  incapable 
of  yielding  to  defeat,  and  thus  it  was  that, 
until  success  finally  and  beyond  all  perad- 
venture  crowned  their  efforts,  they  con- 
tinued their  tests  and  trials  of  improved 
machinery  and  cables,  availing  themselves 
of  every  resource  of  science,  and  even 
bringing  into  requisition,  at  last,  the  mag- 
nificent conveniences  of  conve^'ance  af- 
forded by  that  "  leviathan  of  the  deep,"  the 
steamer  Great  Eastern. 

In  this  way,  certain  facts  and  principles 
were  arrived  at,  and  demonstrated  by  trials 
and  expeditions  conducted  in  accordance 
therewith,  which  showed  plainlj'  what  had 
been  the    errors    of    the    past,    and   what 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


901 


should  be  the  governing  rules  of  future 
operations.  Among  these  facts  and  princi- 
ples were  the  following  : 

It  was  proved  by  tlie  expedition  of  1858, 
that  a  submarine  telegraph  cable  could  be 
laid  between  Ireland  and  Newfoundland, 
and  messages  transmitted. 

By  the  expedition  of  18G5 — when  the 
cable  was  lost — it  was  demonstrated  that 
the  insulation  of  a  cable  improves  very 
much  after  its  submersion  in  the  cold 
deep  water  of  the  Atlantic,  and  that  its 
conducting  power  is  considerably  increased 
thereby ;  that  the  steamship  Great  East- 
ern, from  her  size  and  constant  steadiness, 
and  from  the  control  over  her  afforded  by 
the  joint  use  of  paddles  and  screw,  ren- 
dered it  safe  to  lay  an  Atlantic  cable  in 
any  weather  ;  that  in  a  depth  of  over  two 
miles,  four  attempts  were  made  to  grapple 
the  lost  cable,  in  three  of  which  the  cable 
was  caught  by  the  grapnel,  and  in  the 
other  the  grapnel  was  fouled  by  the 
chain  attached  to  it ;  that  the  paying- 
out  machinery  used  on  board  the  Great 
Eastern  worked  perfectly,  and  could  be 
confidently  relied  on  for  laying  cables 
across  the  Atlantic ;  that  with  the  im- 
proved telegraphic  instruments  for  long 
submarine  lines,  a  speed  of  more  than 
eight  words  per  minute  could  be  obtained 
through  such  a  cable  as  that  sunk  between 
Ireland  and  Newfoundland,  as  the  amount 
of  slack  actually  paid  out  did  not  exceed 
fourteen  per  cent.,  which  would  have  made 
the  total  cable  laid  between  Valentia  and 
Heart's  Content  nineteen  hundred  miles  ; 
that  the  lost  Atlantic  cable,  though  capa- 
ble of  bearing  a  strain  of  seven  tons,  did 
not  experience  more  than  fourteen  hun- 
dred-weight in  being  paid  out  into  the 
deepest  water  of  the  Atlantic  between 
Ireland  and  Newfoundland  ;  that  there  was 
no  difficulty  in  mooring  buoys  in  the  deep 
waters  of  the  Atlantic  between  Ireland 
and  Newfoundland,  and  that  two  buoys 
even,  when  moored  by  a  piece  of  the 
Atlantic  cable  itself,  which  had  been  pre- 
viously lifted  from  the  bottom,  had  ridden 
out  a  gale  ;  that  more  than  four  nautical 
miles     of    the    Atlantic    cable    had    been 


recovered  from  a  depth  of  over  two  miles, 
and  that  the  insulation  of  the  gutta 
percha  covered  wire  was  in  no  way  what- 
ever impaired  by  the  depth  of  water 
or  the  strains  to  which  it  had  been  sub- 
jected by  lifting  and  passing  through 
the  hauling-in  apparatus  ;  that  the  cable 
of  18G5,  owing  to  the  improvements  in- 
troduced into  the  manufacture  of  the 
gutta  percha  core,  was  more  than  one 
hundred  times  better  insulated  than  cables 
made  in  1858,  then  considered  perfect ; 
that  the  electrical  testing  could  be  con- 
ducted with  such  unerring  certainty  as  to 
enable    the    electricians    to   discover    the 


4(r^uAib 


existence  of  a  fault  immediately  after  its 
production  or  development,  and  very 
quickly  to  ascertain  its  position  in  the 
cable ;  and,  finally,  that  with  a  steam- 
engine  attached  to  the  paying-out  ma- 
chinery,  should  a  fault  be  discovered  on 
board  whilst  laying  the  cable,  it  was 
possible  to  recover  it  before  it  had  reached 
the  bottom  of  the  ocean,  and  have  it 
repaired  at  once. 

Still  led  on  by  that  master-spirit  of  the 
enterprise,  Mr.  Field,  its  friends  formed 
themselves  into  a  new  company,  with  a 
large  amount  of  capital,  and  the  summer  of 
1866  was  fixed  u[)on  for  another  effort,  the 
Great  Eastern  to  be  employed  for  the  pur- 


902 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


pose.  By  the  time  (says  Dr.  H.  M.  Field, 
the  admirable  historian  of  the  enterprise,) 
the  big  ship  had  her  cargo  and  stores  on 
board,  she  Avas  well  laden.  Of  the  cable 
alone  there  were  two  thousand  four  hun- 
dred miles,  coiled  in  three  immense  tanks, 
as  the  year  before.  Of  this,  seven  hun- 
dred and  forty-eight  miles  were  a  part  of 
the  cable  of  the  last  expedition.  The 
tanks  alone,  with  the  water  in  them, 
weighed  over  a  thousand  tons ;  and  the 
cable  which  they  held,  four  thousand  tons 
more ;  besides  which  she  had  to  carry 
eight  thousand  five  hundred  tons  of  coal 
and  five  hundred  tons  of  telegi-aph  stores 
— in  all  some  fourteen  thousand  tons, 
besides  engines,  rigging,  etc.,  which  made 
nearly  as  much  more.  So  enormous  was 
this  burden,  that  it  was  thought  prudent 
not  to  take  on  board  all  her  coal  before 
she  left  the  Med  way,  especially  as  the 
channel  was  winding  and  shallow.  It 
was  therefore  arranged  that  about  a  third 
of  her  coal  should  be  taken  in  at  Bere- 
haven,  a  port  on  the  south-west  coast  of 
Ireland.  The  time  for  her  departure,  was 
the  last  day  of  June  ;  and  in  four  or  five 
days  she  had  passed  down  the  Irish  coast, 
and  was  quietly  anchored  in  the  harbor  at 
Berehaven,  where  she  was  soon  joined  by 
the  other  vessels  of  the  squadron.  The 
Terrible,  which  had  accompanied  the  Great 
Eastern  on  the  former  expedition,  was  still 
there  to  represent  the  majesty  of  England. 
The  William  Corry,  a  vessel  of  two  thou- 
sand tons,  bore  the  ponderous  shore  end, 
which  was  to  be  laid  out  thirty  miles  from 
the  Irish  coast,  while  the  Albany  and  the 
Medway  were  ships  chartered  by  the  com- 
pany. While  the  Great  Eastern  remained 
at  Berehaven,  to  take  in  her  final  stores  of 
coal,  the  William  Corry  proceeded  around 
the  coast  to  Valentia,  to  lay  the  shore 
end.  She  arrived  olf  the  harbor,  July 
7th,  and  immediately  prepared  for  her 
heavy  task.  This  shore  end  was  of  tre- 
mendous size,  weighing  over  eight  tons  to 
the  mile.  The  cable  was  to  be  brought 
off  on  a  bridge  of  boats,  reaching  from  the 
ship  to  the  foot  of  the  cliff.  All  the  fish- 
ermen's boats  were  gathered  from  along 


the  shore,  while  the  British  war-ship 
Racoon,  which  was  guarding  that  part  of 
the  coast,  sent  up  her  boats  to  help,  so 
that,  as  they  all  mustered  in  line,  there 
were  forty  of  them,  making  a  long  pon- 
toon-bridge ;  and  Irish  boatmen  with  eager 
looks  and  strong  hands  were  standing 
along  the  line  to  grasp  the  massive  chain. 
All  went  well,  and  by  one  o'clock  the  cable 
was  landed,  and  its  end  brought  up  the 
cliff  to  the  station.  The  signals  were 
found  to  be  perfect,  and  the  William  Corry 
then  slowly  drew  off  to  sea,  unlimbering 
her  stiff  shore  end,  till  she  had  cast  over 
the  whole  thirty  miles.  At  three  o'clock, 
the  next  morning,  she  telegraphed  through 
the  cable  that  her  work  was  done,  and  she 
had  buoyed  the  end  in  water  a  hundred 
fathoms  deep. 

The  joy  of  the  inhabitants  on  witness- 
ing this  scene  was  earnest  and  deep-seated, 
rather  than  demonstrative,  after  the  les- 
son taught  by  last  year's  experience.  The 
excitement  was  below,  instead  of  above 
the  surface.  Nothing  could  prevent  the 
scene  being  intensely  dramatic,  but  the 
prevailing  tone  of  the  drama  was  serious, 
instead  of  boisterous  and  triumj^hant. 
Speech-making,  hurrahing,  public  congrat- 
ulations, and  vaunts  of  confidence,  were, 
as  it  seemed,  avoided  as  if  on  purpose. 
The  old  crones  (says  an  English  paper)  in 
tattered  garments  who  cowered  together, 
dudheen  in  mouth,  their  gaudy  colored 
shawls  tightly  drawn  over  head  and  under 
the  chin — the  barefooted  boj'S  and  girls, 
who  by  long  practice  walked  over  sharp 
and  jagged  rocks,  which  cut  up  boots  and 
shoes,  with  perfect  impunity — the  men  at 
work  uncovering  the  trench,  and  winding 
in  single  file  up  and  down  the  hazardous 
path  cut  by  the  cablemen  in  the  otherwise 
inaccessible  rock — the  patches  of  bright 
color  furnished  by  the  red  petticoats  and 
cloaks — the  ragged  garments,  only  kept 
from  falling  to  pieces  by  bits  of  string  and 
tape — the  good  old  parish  priest,  who  exer- 
cises mild  and  gentle  spiritual  sway  over 
the  loving  subjects  of  whom  the  ever-pop- 
ular Knight  of  Kerry  is  the  temporal 
head,  looking  on  benignly  from  his  car — 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


9C3 


the  bright  e^'es,  supple  figures,  and  inno- 
cent faces  of  the  peasant  hisses,  and  the 
earnestly  hopeful  expression  of  all — made 
up  a  picture  not  easily  described. 

On  the  thirteenth  of  July,  the  fleet  was 
ready  to  sail  on  its  great  errand,  and  lay 
the  cable  in  the  heart  of  the  wide  and 
deep  ocean.  Previously  to  the  departure, 
however,  a  devotional  meeting  was  held, 
participated  in  by  the  company,  the  oflfi- 
cers  and  hands,  at  which  the  enterprise 
was  solemnly  commended  to  the  favor  of 
God.  In  a  short  time  after  leaving  the 
shores  of  Ireland,  the  Medway  reached  the 
buoy  to  which  the  shore-end  was  attached, 
and  immediately  the  operation  of  splicing 
that  end  with  the  main  coil  on  board  the 
Great  Eastern  was  performed. 

At  about  three  o'clock,  p.  m.,  the  tele- 
graph fleet  was  on  its  way  to  Newfound- 
land, in  the  following  order  :  The  Terri- 
ble ahead  of  the  Great  Eastern  on  the 
starboard  bow,  the  Medway  on  the  port, 
and  the  Albany  on  the  starboard  quarter. 
The  weather  was  thick  and  foggy,  with 
heavy  rains.  Signals  were  sent  through 
the  cable  on  board  of  the  Great  Eastern 
and  to  the  telegraph  house  at  Valentia, 
and  the  two  thousand  four  hundred  and 
forty  nautical  miles  were  found  perfect  in 
condition,  and  only  waiting  their  final 
destination  in  the  vast  womb  of  the  ocean. 

All  went  well  until  noon  of  July  18th, 
when  the  first  real  shock  was  given  to  the 
success  that  had  hitherto  attended  them, 
and  caused  considerable  alarm.  A  foul 
flake  took  place  in  the  after-tank.  The 
engine  was  immediately  turned  astern, 
and  the  paying  of  the  cable  stopped.  All 
hands  were  soon  on  the  decks,  and  there 
learned,  to  their  dismay,  that  the  running 
and  paying  out  of  the  coil  had  caught 
three  turns  of  the  flake  immediately  under 
it,  carried  them  into  the  eye  of  the  coil, 
fouling  the  toy-out  and  hauling  up  one- 
half  turns  from  the  outside,  and  five  turns 
of  the  eye  of  the  under  flakes.  This  was 
stopped,  fortunately,  before  entering  the 
paying-out  machines ;  stoppers  of  hemp 
with  chains  were  also  put  on  near  the 
wheel  astern,  and   orders  were    given   by 


Mr.  Canning,  to  stand  by  to  let  go  the 
buoy.  This  was  not  very  cheering  to 
hear ;  but,  though  the  calm  and  collected 
man  inspired  those  around  him  with  con- 
fidence that  his  skill  and  experience  would 
extricate  the  cable  from  the  danger  in 
which  it  was  placed,  no  fishing  line  was 
ever  entangled  more  than  the  rope  when 
thrust  up  in  apparently  hopeless  danger 
from  the  eye  of  the  cable  to  the  deck. 

There  were  at  least  five  thousand  feet 
of  rope  lying  in  this  state,  and  in  the 
midst  of  thick  rain  and  increasing  wind, 
the  cable  crew  set  to  work  to  disentangle 
it.  The  Dolphin  was  there,  too,  patiently 
following  the  lights  as  they  showed  them- 
selves, the  crew  now  passing  them  forward 
and  now  aft,  until  at  last  the  character  of 
the  tangle  was  seen,  and  soon  it  became 
apparent  that  ere  long  the  cable  would  be 
saved  and  uninjured  down  to  the  tank. 
Captain  Anderson  was  at  the  taffrail,  anx- 
iously watching  the  strain  on  the  rope 
(they  could  scarcely  make  it  out,  the  night 
was  so  dark),  endeavoring  to  keep  it  up 
and  down,  going  on  raising  with  paddle 
and  screw.  In  view  of  the  rise  of  the 
great  ship,  and  the  enormous  mass  she 
presented  to  the  wind,  the  difficulty  of 
keeping  her  stern,  under  the  circum- 
stances, over  the  cable,  can  be  appreci- 
ated. The  port  paddle-wheel  was  discon- 
nected, but  afterward  there  was  a  shift 
of  wind,  and  the  vessel  came-to  the  wrong 
way. 

Welcome  voices  were  now  heard  passing 
the  word  aft  from  the  tank,  that  the 
bights  were  cleared,  and  to  pay  out.  Then 
the  huge  stoppers  were  quietly  opened, 
and  at  2  :  05  A.  M.,  to  the  joy  of  all,  the 
cable  was  once  more  being  discharged. 
They  veered  it  away  in  the  tank  to  clear 
the  screw,  and  the  paddle-engines  were 
slowed  so  as  to  reduce  the  speed  of  the 
ship  to  four  and  a  half  knots.  During  all 
this  critical  time,  there  was  entire  absence 
of  noise  and  confusion.  Everything  was 
silently  done,  and  the  cable  men  and  crew 
w^orked  with  hearty  good  will. 

On  the  morning  of  Friday,  at  eight 
o'clock,   July    27th,  the    ship    arrived   at 


904 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Heart's  Content,  the  American  terminus, 
the  distance  run  being  one  thousand  six 
hundred  and  sixty-nine  miles,  and  the 
length  of  cable  paid  out,  one  thousand 
eight  hundred  and  four  miles.  The  aver- 
age speed  of  the  ship  from  the  time  the 
splice  was  made  until  they  came  in  sight 
of  land  was  a  little  less  than  five  nautical 
miles  per  hour,  and  the  cable  was  paid  out 
at  an  average  of  five  and  one-half  miles 
per  hour.  The  total  slack  was  less  than 
twelve  per  cent.  The  fleet  was  in  con- 
stant communication  with  Valentia  since 
the  splice  was  made,  July  13th,  and 
news  was  daily  received  from  Europe, 
which  was  posted  up  outside  of  the  tele- 
graph office,  for  the  information  of  all  on 
board  of  the  Great  Eastern,  and  was  sig- 
naled to  the  other  ships.  It  would  be 
difficult  to  describe  the  feelings  with  which 
Mr.  Field,  who,  with  his  associates  on 
board,  had  watched  tlie  progress  of  the 
undertaking  with  intense  solicitude,  day 
and  night, — penned  the  following  an- 
nouncement to  his  friends  in  New  York, 
and  which  was  received  throughout  the 
whole  land  with  unbounded  delight  : — 

"  Heart's  Coxtext,  Jnhj  27.  We 
arrived  here  at  nine  o'clock,  this  morning. 
All  well.  Thank  God,  the  cable  is  laid, 
and  is  in  perfect  ivorhing  order. 

Cviius  W.  Field." 

Strangely  and  happily  enough,  too,  the 
first  European  tidings  flashed  across  the 
cable  to  the  western  hemisphere,  was,  that 
a  treaty  of  peace  had  just  been  signed 
between  Austria  and  Prussia,  and  that 
the  black  war  cloud  which  had  gathered 
over  all  Europe  was  fast  fleeing  away  ; — a 
fit  celebration  of  the  grandest  of  human 
enterprises,  the  successful  establishment  of 
telegraphic  communication  between  the 
Old  world  and  the  New. 

Congratulatory  dispatches  were  immedi- 
ately forwarded,  by  Mr.  Field,  to  the  pres- 
ident of  the  United  States,  the  secretary 
of  state,  and  to  the  honorary  directors  of 
the  Atlantic  Telegraph  Company.  The 
queen  of  England  sent  her  salutations  to 
the  president,  as  follows  :     "  The  Queen 


congratulates  the  President  on  the  suc- 
cessful completion  of  an  undertaking  which 
she  hopes  may  serve  as  an  additional  bond 
of  union  between  the  United  States  and 
England."  To  this,  the  president  re- 
sponded by  saying:  "The  President  of 
the  United  States  acknowledges  with  pro- 
found gratification  the  receipt  of  Her 
Majesty's  dispatch,  and  cordially  recipro- 
cates the  hope  that  the  cable  which  now 
unites  the  eastern  and  western  hemi- 
spheres may  serve  to  strengthen  and  to 
perpetuate  peace  and  amity  between  the 
Government  of  England  and  the  RejDublic 
of  the  United  States." 

Heart's  Content,  the  American  terminus 
of  the  cable,  is  a  little  fishing  hamlet, 
hitherto  unknown,  but  destined  to  an  en- 
during reputation  hereafter,  as  one  of  the 
most  interesting  geographical  points  in 
the  history  of  the  age.  The  bay  on  which 
it  is  situated  is  a  very  safe  and  capacious 
one,  and  on  this  account  was  selected. 

Among  the  complimentary  messages 
sent  to  Mr.  Field,  on  the  consummation  of 
his  great  and  magnificent  scheme,  was  one 
which  came  to  hand  on  Monday,  July 
30th,  from  M.  de  Lesseps,  the  renowned 
projector  of  the  Suez  Canal.  It  was 
dated  in  Alexandria,  Egj'pt,  the  same  day, 
at  half-past  one  o'clock,  P.  M.,  and  reached 
Newfoundland  at  half-past  ten,  A.  M.  By 
looking  at  the  globe,  one  can  see  over 
what  a  space  that  message  flew.  Remark- 
ing upon  the  wonderful  fact,  a  New  York 
paper  graphicallj'  said  that  it  came  from  the 
farthest  East,  from  the  land  of  the  Pha- 
raohs and  Ptolemies ;  it  passed  along  the 
shores  of  Africa,  and  under  the  Mediter- 
ranean, more  than  a  thousand  miles,  to 
I^falta;  thence  it  leaped  to  the  continent, 
and  shot  across  Italy,  and  over  the  Aljis, 
and  then  through  France,  under  the  Chan- 
nel, to  London  ;  then  across  England  and 
Ireland,  till  from  the  cliffs  of  Valentia  it 
struck  straight  into  the  Atlantic,  darting 
down  the  submarine  mountain  which  lies 
off  the  coast,  and  over  all  the  hills  and 
valleys  of  the  watery  plain,  resting  not 
till  it  touched  the  shore  of  the  New  "World. 
Thus,  in  its  morning's  flight,  it  had  passed 


GREAT  AND  IMEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


905 


ARRIVAL  OF  THE  GREAT  EASTERN  AT  HEART'S  CONTENT,  WITH  THE  ATLANTIC  CABLE. 


over  one-fourth  of  the  earth's  surface, 
and  so  far  outstripped  the  sun  in  his 
course,  that,  by  the  dial,  it  reached  its 
destination  three  hours  before  it  was  sent ! 
Curiously  enough,  too,  in  this  latter  con- 
nection, it  was  found,  when  considering 
the  propriety  of  not  sending  messages  on 
Sunday,  that,  supposing  no  delay  in  trans- 
mission, Sunday  in  the  United  States  is 
Saturday  in  Calcutta,  and  thus  the  adop- 
tion of  such  a  rule  would  be — working  east- 
ward and  westward — to  exclude  Saturday, 
Sunday,  and  Monday,  from  telegraph 
operations. 

As  illustrating  the  moral  uses,  too,  sub- 
served by  land  and  ocean  telegraph  lines 
connecting  different  countries  and  conti- 
nents, the  following  case,  given  in  a  New 
Yorli  journal — bj'  no  means  an  extreme 
case  in  this  present  day  of  increased  tele- 
graphic facilities — will  be  found  in  point : 
A  knavish  Chinaman  in  California  having 
contracted  the  barbarian  vice  of  swindling, 
has  been  cheating  sundry  merchants  in 
San  Erancisco  out  of  eighteen  thousand 
dollars,  and,  getting  on  board  the  Pacific 
Mail  steamship,  tied  to  the  Central  Flowery 
Kingdom.  In  this  way  he  hoped  to  put 
between  himself  and  those  whom  he  had 
robbed,  first,  some  ten  thousand  miles  of 
ccean.  But,  a  telegram  from  San  Fran- 
cisco bears  the  tidings  of  his  crime  to  New 
York.  New  York  sends  it  by  cable  aci-oss 
the  Atlantic  to  London,  London  through 


France  and  under  the  Mediterranean  to 
Alexandria,  Alexandria  by  the  Red  Sea 
and  Persian  Gulf  to  Bombay,  Bomba}^  to 
Ceylon,  and  Ceylon  by  the  Peninsula  and 
Oriental  steamers  to  China.  So  that, 
when  Hong-Kee  trips  lightly  down  the 
ship's  gangway  at  Hong  Kong  or  Shang- 
hai, dreaming  of  much  opium  and  many 
almond-eyed  daughters  of  the  Sun  in  the 
Land  of  Flowers,  his  placid  soul  will  be 
disconcerted  by  the  tap  of  a  bamboo  on 
his  shoulder,  and  a  voice  of  doom  will 
murmur  an  ungentle  summons  in  his  ear. 
Poor  Hong-Kee  !  The  bad  morals  of  the 
Christians  have  corrupted  him,  and  in  the 
steam-engine  of  the  Christians  has  he  put 
his  trust.  But  the  literal  '  chain-light- 
ning' of  those  same  Christians  is  after 
him,  to  outstrip  their  steam-engine,  and  to 
teach  him  in  sorrow  and  in  shame  how 
much  better  he  might  have  done. 

Not  less  curious,  in  a  scientific  point  of 
view,  is  the  following  incident,  as  related 
by  Mr.  Field,  at  the  magnificent  banquet 
given  in  his  honor,  in  New  York,  on  the 
triumphant  completion  of  what  has  justly 
been  pronounced  the  grandest  of  human 
enterprises.  ''  The  other  day,"  said  Mr. 
Field,  in  his  speech  on  this  occasion,  "  Mr. 
Lattimer  Clark  telegraphed  from  Ireland, 
across  the  ocean  and  back  again,  ivith  a 
hatter]/  formed  in  a  larlifs  thinihle  !  And 
now  Mr.  Collett  writes  me  from  Heart's 
Content :     "  I  have  just  sent  my  compli- 


906 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1S76. 


merits  to  Doctor  Gould,  of  Cambridge, 
who  is  at  Valentia,  with  a  battery  com- 
posed of  a  gun  cap,  with  a  strip  of  zinc, 
excited  by  a  drop  of  water,  the  simjile  bulk 
of  a  tear!'" 

Too  great  credit  can  never  be  awarded 
to  Mr.  Field,  for  his  persevering  devotion 
to  this  enterprise,  through  ten  years  of 
disheartening  failure.  In  the  early  stages 
of  the  enterprise,  few  encouraged  him  in 
his  expectations,  though  all  personally 
wished  him  well.  On  preparing,  there- 
fore, for  one  of  his  trips  across  the  Atlan- 
tic, in  connection  with  the  business,  one 
of  his  friends  said  to  him,  "  When  shall 
we  see  you  again  ?  "  "  Not  until  I  have 
laid  the  cable  !  "  was  Mr.  Field's  reply. 
So,  too,  on  presenting  the  subject  to 
Lord  Clarendon.  The  latter  showed 
great  interest  and  made  many  inquiries, 
but  was  rather  startled  at  the  mag- 
nitude of   the  proposed   scheme,  as   well 


as  at  the  confident  tone  of  the  projec- 
tors, and  pleasantly  asked  the  lion-hearted, 
man — 

"  But,  suppose  you  donH  succeed  ?  Sup- 
pose you  make  the  attempt  and  fail — your 
cable  is  lost  in  the  sea — then  what  will 
you  do  ?  " 

"  Charge  it  to  profit  and  loss,  and  go  to 
work  to  lay  another,"  was  Mr.  Field's  quick 
and  characteristic  response  to  his  noble 
friend. 

On  another  occasion,  when  dining  at 
the  residence  of  Mr.  Adams,  the  Ameri- 
can ambassador,  in  London,  he  was  seen 
for  an  instant  to  nod  his  head.  John 
Bright,  who  sat  next  to  him,  turned  to 
him  with  a  smile,  and  said,  ''  I  am  glad  to 
see  you  sleep  ;  /  dkhiH  Icvoiv  iliat  you  ever 
slept  /  " — a  most  pertinent  and  deserved 
tribute  to  the  man  whose  indomitable  faith 
and  energy  was  finally  crowned  with  im- 
mortal success. 


cv. 

COMPLETION"  OF  THE  PACIFIC   RAILROAD.— 1869. 


Spikes  of  the  Richest  Gold  and  a  Hammer  of  Pure  Silver  Used  in  Laying  the  Last  Kail. — The  Blows 
of  the  Sledge  Telegraphed  to  All  tiie  Great  Cities. — The  Wide  Continent  Spanned  with  Iron  from  the 
Farthest  East  to  the  Golden  Gate  — Junction  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Oceans. — Seven  Days  from 
New  York  to  San  Francisco. — Greatest  Railroad  Route  on  the  Face  of  the  Earth. — "  Manifest  Des- 
tiny "  of  the  United  States. — A  Pacific  Highway  Agitated  for  Years — Its  National  Importance  and 
Necessity. — Charters  and  Government  Aid  at  Last. — The  "  Union  "  and  "  Ontral  "  Companies. — 
Natural  Difficulties  to  be  Overcome. — Feats  of  Engineering  Involved. — Triumphs  of  Science  in  this 
Respect. — Mountains  Tunneled,  Rivers  Bridged. — Gulfs  Spanned,  Depths  Fathomed — Vastness  and 
Progress  of  the  Work — A  Force  of  Twenty-five  Thousand  Men  and  Six  Thousand  Teams  — First 
Train  at  the  Top  of  the  Sierras. — Pushing  the  Line  to  Completion. — Approach  of  the  Two  Grand 
Divisions. — Union  at  Promontory  Point,  Utah  — Exultation  Over  the  Victory. — Historic  Scene  in  the 
Heart  of  America. — Offerings  of  Gold,  Silver,  Iron,  and  Laurel. — Telegram  to  President  Grant. — Cel- 
ebration in  the  Principd  Cities. — Easy  Journey  Around  the  World. 


"Thp  li»t  mil  is  laid-the  last  »pike  driven— the  Pacific  Railroad  is  completed  1"— Official  Teleobam  FEOM  Pboicontoet  Poiitt, 
OcTObEK  loth,  IdtiU 


MOUXTAIX  SCEXE  OX  THE   PACIFIC  nAILEOAD. 


ELIEVERS  in  the  "manifest  destiny" 
of  the  universal  Yankee  nation  were  fa- 
vored with  one  of  the  most  conclusive  and 
gratifying  confirmations  of  their  cherished 
theory,  when  that  most  stupendous  work 
ever  undertaken  by  man,  the  Construction 
of  the  Pacific  Railway,  was  finally  consum- 
mated by  the  laying  of  the  last  rail  and  the 
memorable  ceremony  performed  by  officials 
of  clasping  together  the  iron  girdle  about 
the  loins  of  the  nation  ; — in  the  winding  of 
which  mighty  coil  across  the  continent, 
mountains  were  tunneled  which  made 
one's  head  giddy  to  gaze  upon  ;  rivers  were 
bridged  which,  since  the  primeval  da^-s  of 
creation,  had  rolled  in  majestic  solitude ; 
gulfs,  frightful  and  tumultuous,  were 
spanned;  frowning  heights  were  climbed 
and  leveled ;  and  abyssmal  depths  were 
fathome(\  And  all  this  was  accomplished 
in  a  period  of  time,  and  on  a  scale  of  mag- 
nitude, the  recital  of  which  is  fairly  calcu- 
lated to  stagger  credulity. 

Notwithstanding  the  necessity  of  such  a 
line  of  communication  had  for  years  been 


908 


our.  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


repeatedly  urged,  it  was  not  until  1859 
that  a  bill  was  carried  through  congress, 
authorizing  the  grand  scheme.  This  bill, 
— according  to  the  Chicago  Times'  exhaust- 
ive account  of  the  history  of  the  enter- 
prise, which  is  here  abridged, — comprised 
no  less  than  three  great  lines,  namely,  tlie 
northern,  the  southern,  and  the  central. 
But  the  breaking  out  of  the  civil  war 
/•hecked  the  enterprise.  The  astonishing 
development,  however,  of  the  precious 
metals  in  Nevada  and  the  travel  and  traf- 
fic that  inevitably  followed,  embodied  for 
the  mines  of  Californians  that  imperious 
need  of  a  cheaper  and  easier  conveyance, 
into  a  plan  of  a  continental  railway,  which 
had  always  been  popular  there. 

The  assumed  impracticability  of  cross- 
ing the  Sierras  did  not  discourage  a  few 
daring,  far-sighted  engineers,  prominent 
among  whom  was  Mr.  T.  P.  Benjamin, 
the  character  of  whose  surveys  decided 
the  state  legislature  to  charter  the  Cen- 
tral Pacific  railroad  company,  in  1862. 
In  a  short  time,  success  crowned  the  ef- 
forts of  the  friends  of  the  enterprise  in 
congress;  and  so,  in  July,  1862,  the  great 
continental  railway  from  the  Missouri  to 
the  Pacific  was  an  assured  undertaking. 
In  1865,  forty  miles  were  built ;  in  1866, 
two  hundred  and  sixty-five  miles;  in 
1867,  two  hundred  and  forty-five  miles ; 
in  1868,  four  hundred  and  twenty-five 
miles;  in  1869,  one  hundred  and  five 
miles.  East  of  Salt  Lake  City,  the  eleva- 
tion of  the  road  averages  about  seven  thou- 
sand feet  above  the  sea.  Most  of  the  coun- 
try is  very  rough,  destitute  of  wood  and 
water,  and.  a  large  portion  of  the  way  is 
through  an  alkali  desert.  Tremendous 
snow-storms  in  the  mountains  presented 
another  great  difficulty. 

The  spirit  of  rivalry  did  its  share  in 
stimulating  the  activity  of  the  Union 
Pacific  company.  The  efforts  of  this  com- 
pany had  so  far  languished  during  the  ear- 
lier history  of  their  corporation,  that  little 
was  done  till  after  the  close  of  the  war. 
The  Central  Pacific,  however,  immediately 
commenced  work,  so  that,  in  January, 
1863,    the   first   grading   was   done, — the 


occasion  being  signalized  with  great  re- 
joicing as  a  general  holiday, — and,  even  so 
early  as  June,  1864,  thirt3'-one  miles  of 
track  had  been  laid  to  New  Castle,  nearly 
one  thousand  feet  above  the  sea  at  the 
foot  of  the  Sierras.  But,  owing  to  finan- 
cial difficulties,  it  was  not  until  September, 
1866,  that  progress  was  made  to  Alta,  sev- 
enty miles  east  of  Sacramento,  and  nearly 
six  thousand  feet  above  the  sea.  In  No- 
vember following,  the  track  reached  Cisco, 
some  six  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  an 
average  elevation  of  about  one  hundred 
feet  per  mile  being  overcome  in  twenty- 
three  miles. 

Work  on  the  Union  Pacific  did  not 
commence  till  eighteen  months  after  the 
Central  had  inaugurated  their  section  of 
the  enterprise.  In  the  spring  of  1867, 
when  the  snows  had  melted,  the  work  was 
resumed  by  both  comj^anies,  with  great 
vigor,  the  race  being  kept  up  with  an 
ardor  that  constantly  gathered  head.  The 
Union  was  far  ahead  in  respect  to  dis- 
tance, but  they  had  to  fight  against  con- 
tinually increasing  difficulties,  while  the 
Central  had  already  overcome  the  great 
ones  of  their  undertaking  in  crossing  the 
Sierras,  and  could  look  forward  to  an  open 
and  easy  route.  The  first  passenger  train 
reached  the  top  of  the  Sierras,  November 
30,  1867.  By  the  time  the  western  end 
of  the  route  had  reached  the  lower 
Truckee,  one  hundred  and  forty  miles 
east  of  Sacramento,  the  Union  had  reached 
a  point  in  the  Black  Hills,  five  hundred 
miles  west  of  Omaha.  , 

At  the  opening  of  the  summer  of  1868, 
the  two  companies  were  nearly  equally 
distant  from  Monument  Point,  at  the 
head  of  Salt  Lake,  and  the  emulation  be- 
tween the  two  gave  rise  to  prodigious  ef- 
forts. About  twenty-five  thousand  men 
and  six  thousand  teams  were  engaged 
along  the  route  between  the  foot  of  the 
Sierras  and  Evans's  pass.  The  competi- 
tion increased  as  they  neared  each  other, 
and  at  last  the  struggle  arose  as  to  the 
point  of  junction.  The  Central  company 
wished  Ogderi  fixed  as  the  point  of  junc- 
tion,   and   the    Union   urged    IMonument 


GEEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


909 


Point ;  the  matter  was  at  last  settled  by  a 
decision  in  favor  of  the  former.  The  dan- 
gers to  wliii;h  the  laborers  were  subjected, 
and  the  imperious  necessity  of  vigilant 
protection  of  the  track  and  material  of  the 
road,  were  great  and  unceasing,  owing  to 
the  inveterate  hostility  of  the  Indians. 
From  Fort  Kearney  west,  up  the  Platte 
river,  to  the  foot  of  the  Black  Hills,  the 
road  was  subject  to  a  continual  succession 
of  tierce  attacks.  Several  battalions  of 
United  States  troops  were  scattered  along 
the  line,  and  found  full  employment  in 
adequately  guarding  the  object  of  their 
vigilance. 

That  the  completion  of  such  a  vast  en- 
terprise, unparalleled  in  magnitude  and 
grandeur,  should  be  hailed  as  one  of  the 
most  memorable  achievements  in  the  ma- 
terial j^rogress  of  the  country,  was  cer- 
tainly to  be  expected.  Nor  is  it  to  be 
wondei'ed  at  that  the  original  jiick  and 
shovel  employed  in  commencing  such  a 
work,  should  still  be  looked  upon,  by  every 
patriot,  with  historic  interest.  They  are 
carefully  preserved,  and  bear  the  following 
inscriptions : 

"  Pick  that  struck  the  first  blow  on  the 
Uiiiofi  Pacific  rail  rood,  Omaha,  Decem- 
ber 2,  1863.  Pickers :  Thomas  Acheson, 
Wilson  F.  Williams,  George  Francis  Train, 
Peter  A.  Day." 

"  Shooel  used  by  George  Saunders,  to 
move  the  first  earth  in  the  Union  Pacific 
railroad,  Omaha,  Neb.,  December  3, 1863. 
Shovelers :  Alvin  Saunders,  governor  of 
Nebraska ;  B.  E.  B.  Kennedy,  ma^'or  of 
Omaha;  I.  M.  Palmer,  mayor  of  Council 
Bluffs ;  Augustus  Kountze,  director  of 
U.  P.  R.  R." 

The  following  table  of  distances  on  the 
two  lines  will  show  the  magnitude  of  this 
great  channel  of  continental  communica- 
tion :  From  New  York  to  Chicago,  911 
miles;  from  Chicago  to  Omaha,  Neb., 
491  miles.  From  Omaha,  by  the  Union 
Pacific  line,  to  Ogden,  1,030,  and  a  branch 
of  forty  miles  .to  Salt  Lake  City.  From 
Ogden,  by  the  Central  Pacific  line,  748 
miles.  From  Sacramento  to  San  Fran- 
cisco, 120  miles.      Thus,   the  grand  dis- 


tance, by  the  iron  tra(;k,  from  Omaha  to 
San  Francisco,  is  1,898  miles;  from  Chi- 
cago to  San  Francisco,  2,389;  from  New 
York  to  San  Francisco,  3,377  miles. 

In  less  than  one-half  or  one-third  of  the 
time  predicted  at  the  outset  of  the  enter- 
prise, the  road  was  completed, — a  great 
feat,  indeed,  when  it  is  considered  that 
the  workmen  operated  at  such  a  distance 
from  their  base  of  supplies,  and  that  the 
materials  for  construction  and  subsistence 
had  to  be  transported  under  sutdi  a  vari- 
ety of  difficulties.  Thus,  the  transporta- 
tion of  one  hundred  and  ten  thousand  tons 
of  iron  rails,  one  million  fish-plates,  two 
million  bolts,  fifteen  million  spikes,  three 
and  a  half  million  cross-ties,  and  millions 
of  feet  of  timber  not  estimated,  for  the 
construction  of  roads,  culverts  and  bridges, 
made  one  of  the  minor  items  of  the  ac- 
count. The  moving  of  engines  and  ma- 
chinery for  stocking  manufactories,  of 
materials  for  foundries  and  buildings  of 
every  kind,  not  to  speak  of  the  food  for  an 
army  of  thousands  of  workmen,  all  of 
which  belong  to  the  single  account  of 
transportation,  may  also  give  an  imjires- 
sion  of  the  activity  and  expense  required 
in  bringing  such  a  road  to  completion  in 
so  short  a  time. 

Of  course  the  irregularities  of  surface 
characterizing  a  distance  so  immense,  and 
particular!}'  that  portion  of  the  line  run- 
ning among  the  Sierra  Nevada  mountains, 
necessitated  tunneling,  cutting,  and  tres' 
tie-bridging,  on  a  large  scale.  The  well- 
known  Bloomer  Cut,  sixty-three  feet  deep 
and  eight  hundred  feet  long,  is  through 
cemented  gravel  and  sand,  of  the  consist 
ency  of  solid  rotk,  and  onl}^  to  be  moved 
by  blasting.  The  trestle-bridging  con- 
stituted  one  of  the  most  important  features 
in  the  construction  of  the  road,  and  the 
work,  on  completion,  was  pronounced  of 
the  most  durable  description.  Among  the 
most  famous  of  these  structures  may  be 
mentioned  the  trestle  and  truss  bridge, 
Clipper  ravine,  one  hundred  feet  high ; 
the  Long  ravine,  Howe  truss  bridge  and 
trestle,  one  hundred  and  fifteen  feet  high  ; 
and  the  trestle  at  Secrettown,  one  thou- 


910 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


sand  feet  long,  and  fifty  to  ninety  feet 
high.  The  highest  engineering  skill  was 
demanded,  from  first  to  last,  and  the  tri- 
umphs of  science,  in  this  respect,  were 
complete. 

The  total  mileage  of  the  roads  built  un- 
der the  direct  authority  and  by  the  aid  of 
the  national  government,  was  two  thou- 
sand four  hundred  miles.  The  govern- 
ment subsidy  in  aid  of  these  works, 
amounted  to  about  $64,000,000,  of  six  per 
cent,  currency  bonds,  the  companies  being 
also  authorized  to  issue  an  equal  amount 
of  bonds.  Both  companies  had  also  a  land 
grant  from  congress,  in  alternate  sections, 
equal  to  twelve  thousand  eight  hundred 
acres  per  mile. 

Ninety  million  dollars  was  the  cost  of 
the  Union  Pacific  railroad,  up  to  1869 ; 
that  of  the  Central  Pacific,  seventy-five 
million.  This  enormous  sum,  especially 
in  its  relation  to  the  government  indebt- 
edness, alarmed  some  timid  economists. 
But  a  sufficient  answer  to  their  arguments 
was,  that  millions  upon  millions  of  acres 
of  government  lands,  hitherto  lying  idle, 
would  come  into  the  market,  and  very 
speedily  appear  as  productive  farms  tilled 
by  the  hand  of  industry ;  that  towns,  vil- 
lages, cities,  manufacturing,  mining,  and 
all  the  appliances  and  evidences  of  mate- 
rial progress,  would  at  once  take  a  start, 
the  wealth  of  the  East  be  poured  into  the 
AVest,  and  emigration  westward  populate 
territories  and  turn  them  into  states  as  if 
by  magic.  By  means  of  this  new  and 
wonderful  highway,  the  distance  from 
New  York  to  San  Francisco  would  be 
traversed  by  passengers  in  six  or  seven 
days,  instead  of  tliree  weeks  or  more  via 
Panama.  From  San  Francisco  to  Japan 
is  nineteen  days,  or  twenty-five  from  New 
York,  and  some  thirty-six  from  London,  a 
speed  exceeding  that  of  the  British  mails 
to  Yokohama,  via  Suez,  by  upwards  of 
twenty  days.  And  thus,  San  Francisco, 
on  the  Pacific,  the  travel  and  commerce  of 
the  nations  of  Western  Europe  with  the 
hundreds  of  millions  of  people  of  Eastern 
Asia,  and  the  groat  island  of  Australia, 
would  pass  over  the   railway, — the    land 


that  built  it  thereby  reaping  the  benefit  of 
being  the  world's  highway. 

On  the  tenth  of  May,  1869,  the  grand  his- 
toric event  took  place  at  Promontory  Point, 
Utah,  of  uniting  the  two  great  divisions  of 
the  trans-continental  railway.  Early  in 
the  morning,  says  the  Chicago  Tribune, 
Governor  Stanford  and  party  from  the  Pa- 
cific coast  were  on  the  ground  ;  and  at  half- 
past  eight,  an  engine  with  a  palace  and  two 
passenger  cars  arrived  from  the  east  bring- 
ing Vice-President  Durant  and  directors 
Duff  and  Dillon,  of  the  Union  Pacific  rail- 
road, with  other  distinguished  visitors, 
including  several  Mormon  apostles.  Both 
parties  being  in  readiness,  the  ties  were 
thrown  down  on  the  open  space  of  about 
one  hundred  feet,  and  the  employes  of 
the  two  companies  approached  with  the 
rails  to  fill  the  gap.  Mr.  Stenbridge,  sub- 
contractor, who  had  been  in  charge  of  the 
building  of  the  Central  Pacific  from  the 
laying  of  the  first  rail  on  the  bank  of  the 
Sacramento,  commanding  a  party  of  Chi- 
nese track-layers,  advanced  from  the  west 
with  assistant  -  general  superintendent 
Corning. 

The  Chinamen,  conscious  that  the 
strangers  from  the  far  east  were  watch- 
ing their  movements  with  curious  eyes, 
wielded  the  pick,  shovel  and  sledge,  with 
consummate  dexterity ;  but  their  faces  wore 
an  appearance  of  unconcern  and  indiffer- 
ence wonderful  if  real,  and  not  the  less  so 
if  affected.  White  laborers  from  the  east 
did  their  best  work,  but  with  more  indica- 
tion of  a  desire  to  produce  an  effect,  and 
at  eleven  o'clock  the  European  and  Asiatic 
private  soldiers  of  civilization  stood  face 
to  face  in  tlie  heart  of  America,  each 
proudly  conscious  that  the  work  was  well 
done,  and  each  exultant  over  so  noble  a 
victory.  Engine  No.  119  from  the  Atlan- 
tic, and  Jupiter,  No.  60,  from  the  Pacific, 
each  decorated  with  flags  and  evergreens 
for  the  occasion,  then  approached  within  a 
hundred  feet  from  opposite  directions,  and 
saluted  with  exultant  screams.  Superin- 
tendent Vandenburgh  now  attached  the 
telegraph  wires  to  the  last  rail,  so  that 
each  blow  of  the  sledge  should  be  recorded 


GREAT  AND  IVIEMOKABLE  EVENTS. 


911 


on  every  connecting  telegraph  instrument 
between  San  Franoisco  and  Portland,  Me. 
It  was  also  arranged  so  that  corresponding 
blows  should  be  struck  on  the  bell  in  the 
city  hall  at  San  Francisco,  and  the  last 
one  fire  a  cannon  in  the  batteries  at  Fort 
Point.  General  Safford,  in  behalf  of  the 
territory  of  Arizona,  presented  a  spike 
composed  of  iron,  gold  and  silver,  as  an 
offering  by  Arizona,  saying  : 


be  struck.  Every  head  was  uncovered  in 
reverential  silence,  while  Rev.  Dr.  Todd, 
of  Pittsiield,  Mass.,  offered  up  a  brief  and 
deeply  impressive  invocation. 

The  magnificent  tie  of  laurel,  on  which 
was  a  commemorative  plate  of  silver,  was 
brought  forward,  put  in  place,  and  Doctor 
Harkness,  in  behalf  of  the  state  of  Califor- 
nia, presented  Governor  Stanford  the  gold 
spike.  President  Stanford,  of  the  Central 
Pacific  railroad,  responded,  accepting  the 
golden  and  silver  tokens,  predicting  the 
day  as  not  far  distant  when  three  tracks 


COMPLETION  OF  THE  PACIFIC  EAILROAD. 

" nibbed  with  iron,  clad  in  silver,  and 
croivned  ivlth  gold,  Arizona  jjresents  her 
offering  to  the  enterprise  that  has  banded 
every  continent  and  dictated  a  new  path- 
wag  to  commerce.'' 

The  crowd  fell  back  at  the  request  of 
General  Casement,  and  the  artist  for  the 
Union  Pacific  railroad  photograi)hed  the 
scene,  with  the  locomotives  confronting 
each  other,  and  Chinese  and  Caucasian 
laborers  confronting  the  work.  It  was 
now  announced  that  the  last  blow  was  to 


would  be  found  necessary  to  accommodate 
the  traffic  which  would  seek  transit  across 
the  continent,  and  closing  with  the  happy 
summons — "  Kow,  getttlemen,  with  your 
assistance,  toe  will  proceed  to  lag  the  last 
rail,  the  last  tie,  and  drive  the  last  spike." 
General  Dodge,  in  behalf  of  the  Union 
Pacific  railroad,  responded  as  follows : 
"  Gentlemen, — The  great  Benton  prophe- 


912 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


sied  that  some  day  a  granite  statue  of  Co- 
lumbus would  be  erected  on  the  highest 
peak  of  the  Rocky  mountains  pointing 
westward,  denoting  this  as  the  great  route 
across  the  continent.  You  have  made 
that  propliecy  this  day.  Accept  this  as 
the  way  to  India."  Mr.  Tuttle,  from 
Nevada,  presented  a  silver  spike  on  behalf 
of  the  citizens  of  that  state,  with  the  fol- 
lowing remarks:  "To  the  iron  of  the  East 
and  the  gold  of  the  West,  Nevada  adds 
her  link  of  silver,  to  span  the  continent 
and  wed  the  oceans."  Thereupon,  Super- 
intendent Coe,  in  behalf  of  the  Pacific 
Union  express,  presented  the  silver  ham- 
mer, or  sledge,  with  which  to  drive  the 
last  spike. 

Governor  Stanford  and  Vice-President 
Diirant  advanced,  took  in  hand  the  sledge, 
and  drove  the  spike,  while  the  multitude 
stood  silent.  Mr.  Miles,  of  Sacramento, 
who  was  chairman  of  the  meeting,  an- 
nounced the  great  ivoi'h  done !  The  si- 
lence of  the  multitude  was  now  broken, 
and  a  prolonged  shout  went  forth,  which, 
while  it  3'et  quivered  on  the  gladdened  air, 
was  caught  up  by  the  willing  lightning, 
and  borne  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the 
earth.  Cheer  followed  cheer  for  the  union 
of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific,  the  two  Pacific 
railroad  companies  and  their  officers,  the 
president  of  the  United  States,  the  Star 
Spangled  Banner,  the  laborers,  etc.  A 
telegram  announcing  the  grand  consumma- 
tion was  sent  at  once  to  President  Grant, 
and  one  to  the  associated  newspaper  press 
immediately  followed,  Avorded  thus  : 

"  Tlie  last  rail  is  laid  !  The  last  spike 
driven  !  The  Pacific  Railroad  is  com- 
pleted!  The  point  of  junction  is  1,086 
miles  west  of  the  Missouri  river,  and  690 
miles  east  of  Sacramento  Citj-." 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  interest  and 
excitement  in  Washington,  and  a  large 
crowd  assembled  at  the  telegraph  office, 
as  soon  as  it  was  known  that  the  driving 
of  th  '  last  spike  would  be  announced  by 
the  wires.  Vix.  Tinker,  the  manager,  fixed 
a  magnetic  ball  in  a  conspicuous  place, 
where  all  present  could  witness  the  per- 
formance,   and   connected   the   same    with 


the  main  lines,  notifying  the  various 
offices  throughout  the  country,  that  he 
was  ready.  New  Orleans,  New  York  and 
Boston,  instantly  answered  that  they  were 
ready.  Soon  afterward,  many  of  the  offi- 
ces in  different  parts  of  the  country  be- 
gan to  make  all  sorts  of  inquiries  of  the 
office  at  Omaha,  from  which  point  the  cir- 
cuit was  to  be  started.    That  office  replied : 

"  To  everybody  :  Keep  quiet.  When 
the  last  spike  is  driven  at  Promontory 
Point,  we  will  say  "Done."  Don't  break 
the  circuit,  but  watch  for  the  signals  of 
the  blows  of  the  hammer." 

After  some  little  delay,  the  instruments 
were  all  adjusted,  and  2.27,  in  the  after- 
noon. Promontory  Point  said  to  the  peo- 
ple congregated  in  the  various  telegraph 
offices — "  Almost  ready.  Hats  off;  pra^-er 
is  being  offered."  A  silence  for  the  i;rayer 
ensued.  At  2.40  the  bell  tapped  again, 
and  the  office  at  the  Point  said — "  We 
have  got  done  prating.  The  spike  is 
about  to  be  presented."  Chicago  rej^lied 
— "We  iinderstand.  All  are  ready  in  the 
East."  Promontor}''  Point — "  All  ready 
now.  The  spike  will  soon  be  driven.  The 
signal  will  be  three  dots  for  the  com- 
mencement of  the  blows." 

For  a  moment  the  instrument  was 
silent,  and  then  the  hammer  of  the  mag- 
net tapped  the  bell,  one^  ttoo,  three — the 
signal.  Another  pause  of  a  few  seconds, 
and  the  lightning  came  flashing  eastward, 
vibrating  two  thousand  four  hundred  miles, 
between  the  junction  of  the  two  roads  and 
Washington,  and  the  hlows  of  the  ham- 
mer upon  the  spike  were  delivered  in- 
stantly, in  telegraphic  accents,  on  the  bell 
in  Washington.  At  2.47,  in  the  after- 
noon. Promontory  Point  gave  the  signal, 
"Done!" — the  announcement  that  the 
continent  was  spanned  with  iron.  The 
time  of  the  event  in  San  Francisco  was 
11.45,  in  the  forenoon.  A  telegraph  wire 
had  been  attached  to  a  fifteen-inch  gun, 
and  as  the  first  stroke  on  the  last  spike 
was  telegraphed  from  Promontory  Point, 
the  gun  was  fired  liy  electricit}',  and  by 
the  same  agent  all  the  fire-bells  in  the  city 
were  rung. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


913 


The  news  of  the  completion  of  the  road 
created,  of  course,  great  enthusiasm  in  all 
the  cities  of  California.  In  San  Francisco, 
the  event  was  celebrated  in  a  manner  long 
to  be  remembered.  The  day  was  ushered 
in  bj  a  salute  of  one  hundred  guns,  and 
congratulatory  messages  were  transmitted 
to  the  directors  of  the  Central  and  Union 
roads  by  the  "California  Pioneers."  All 
the  Federal  forts  in  the  harbor  fired  sa- 
lutes, the  bells  being  rung  and  the  steam 
whistles  blown  at  the  same  time.  Busi- 
ness was  suspended,  nearly  every  citizen 
exhibiting  a  hearty  interest  in  the  demon- 
strations. The  procession  was  the  largest 
and  most  imposing  ever  witnessed  in  San 
Francisco.  In  addition  to  the  state  mili- 
tia, all  the  available  United  States  troops 
participated  in  the  pageant,  while  the 
civic  societies  turned  out  with  full  ranks. 
The  shipping  was  dressed  in  fine  style — 
both  the  city  and  harbor,  indeed,  present- 
ing a  magnificent  sight.  During  the  day, 
the  principal  buildings  were  festooned 
with  the  banners  of  every  nation,  and  the 
streets  were  thronged  with  an  excited  and 
joyous  people.  At  night,  the  whole  city 
was  brilliantly  illuminated. 

At  Sacramento,  the  event  was  observed 
with  marked  demonstrations.  The  city 
was  crowded  with  a  multitude  of  peop'e 
from  all  parts  of  the  state  and  Nevada,  to 
participate  in  or  witness  the  festivities, 
particularly  the  grand  odd-fellows'  proces- 
sion. The  lines  of  travel  to  and  from  Sac- 
ramento were  thr  wn  open  to  the  public 
free,  and  an  immense  number  of  people 
took  advantage  of  this  arrangement  and 
flocked  thither.  The  Central  Pacific  com- 
'pany  had  thirt}^  locomotives  gaily  decked, 
and  as  the  signal  gun  was  fired  announc- 
ing the  driving  of  the  last  spike  of  the 
road,  the  locomotives  opened  an  overpow- 
ering chorus  of  whistles,  all  the  bells  and 
steam  whistles  of  the  city  immediately 
joining  in  the  deafening  exhibition. 

In  Chicago,  the  celebration  was  the 
most  successful  affair  of  the  kind  that 
ever  took  place  in  that  city,  and,  probably, 
in  the  West,  although  it  was  almost  en- 
tirely impromptu.  The  procession  was 
58 


unique  in  appearance  and  immense  in 
length,  being,  at  the  lowest  estimate,  four 
miles,  and  representing  all  classes,  associ- 
ations and  trades.  During  the  moving  of 
the  procession,  Vice-President  Colfax,  who 
was  visiting  the  city,  received  the  follow- 
ijig  dispatch,  dated  at  Promontory'  Point : 
"The  rails  were  connected  to-day.  The 
prophecy  of  Benton  is  a  fact.  This  is  the 
way  to  India."  A  very  interesting  feat- 
ure in  the  procession  was  an  arra)'  of  mail- 
wagons  with  post-office  eraplo^^es,  and  sev- 
eral tons  of  mail  matter  in  bags,  labeled 
and  marked  as  if  bound  for  some  of  the 
large  cities  both  on  this  side  and  beyond 
the  Pacific  ocean.  Some  of  these  were 
marked  as  follows:  *  Victoria,  Australia; ' 
'Washington,  Oregon  (G.  D.  P.-O.)  ; ' 
*Yeddo,  Japan;'  'Pekin,  China  (G.  D. 
P.-O.)  ; '  '  Golden  City,  Colorado  ; '  '  Den- 
ver, Colorado;'  'Santa  Fe,  New  Mexico;' 
'  Hong  Kong,  China,  via  Chicago ; '  '  Yo- 
kohama, Japan.'  In  the  evening,  Vice- 
President  Colfax,  Lieut.  Gov.  Bross,  and 
others,  addressed  a  vast  assembly',  sjieak- 
ing  eloquently  of  the  great  era  in  Ameri- 
can history  ushered  in  by  the  event  of  the 
day.  The  marine  display  was  also  very 
fine. 

On  the  announcement  of  the  completion 
of  the  road  in  New  York,  the  mayor  or- 
dered a  salute  of  one  hundred  guns,  and 
himself  saluted  the  mayor  of  San  Fran- 
cisco with  a  dispatch  conceived  in  the 
most  jubilant  spirit, — informing  him  that 
"our  flags  are  now  flying,  our  cannon  are 
now  booming,  and  in  old  Trinity  a  Te 
Deum  imparts  thankful  harmonies  to  the 
busy  hum  about  her  church  walls."  The 
Cliambers  of  Commerce  of  the  two  cities 
also  exchanged  congratulations,  the  New 
York  chamber  recognizing  in  the  new 
highway  an  agent  that  would  not  only 
"  develop  the  resources,  extend  the  com- 
merce, increase  the  power,  exalt  the  dig- 
nity and  perpetuate  the  unit}'  of  our  re- 
public, but  in  its  broader  relations,  as  the 
segment  of  a  world-embracing  circle,  di- 
rectly connecting  the  nations  of  Europe 
with  those  of  Asia,  would  materially  facili- 
I  tate  the  enlightened  and  advancing  civil- 


914 


OUE  FIEST  CENTUEY.— 1776-1876. 


ization  of  our  age."  The  services  in  Trin- 
ity were  conducted  with  great  solemnity, 
in  the  presence  of  a  crowded  congregation. 
After  prayer,  and  the  reading  of  a  portion 
of  the  Episcopal  service,  the  organ  pealed 
forth  in  its  grandest  fullness  and  majesty, 
and,  as  the  assembly  dispersed,  the  church 
chimes  added  to  the  joyousness  of  the  oc- 
casion by  ringing  out  "Old  Hundred,"  the 
"  Ascension  Carol,"  and  the  national  airs. 

In  Philadelphia,  the  authorities  im- 
provised a  celebration  so  suddenly,  that 
the  ringing  of  the  bells  on  Independence 
Hall,  and  at  the  various  fire  stations,  was 
mistaken  for  a  general  alarm  of  fire,  till 
the  news  was  announced.  The  sudden 
flocking  of  the  people  to  the  state-house 
resembled  that  which  followed  the  recep- 
tion of  the  news  of  Lee's  surrender  to 
Grant.  In  many  other  towns  and  cities 
througrhout  the  union,  the  event  was  cele- 
brated  with  great  spirit.  Even  as  far  east 
as  Springfield,  Mass.,  the  jubilee  spirit 
was  carried  out.  The  entire  force  of  work- 
men of  Wason's  car  manufactory  in  that 
city  formed  a  procession,  headed  by  a  band 
and  accompanied  by  a  battery,  and  marched 
from  the  shops  of  the  company  through 
the  principal  streets,  each  man  bearing 
some  tool  or  implement  of  his  trade. 
Banners  bearing  '  Our  cars  unite  the  Atlan- 
tic and  Pacific,'  '  Four  hundred  car  builders 
celebrate  the  opening  of  the  Pacific  Eail- 
road,'  '  For  San  Francisco,  connecting  with 
ferry  to  China,'  etc.,  were  conspicuous. 

Eeturning  to  the  scenes  at  Omaha,  that 
interesting  and  important  point  on  this 
trans-continental  highway,  the  day  was 
there  observed  by  such  an  outpouring  of 
the  people  as  had  never  before  been 
equaled.  The  morning  trains  from  the 
west  brought  the  fire  companies  and  the 
masonic  fraternity  from  Fremont,  and 
large  delegations  from  towns  and  settle- 
ments as  far  west  as  North  Platte,  Be- 
fore noon,  the  streets  were  filled  with  a 
multitude  anxiously  awaiting  the  signal 
from  Capitol  hill,  where  a  park  of  artillery 
was  stationed  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
observatory,  to  enable  it  to  fire  a  salute 
the    moment   the   telegraphic    signals  an- 


nounced that  the  last  spike  had  been 
driven.  A  grand  procession  was  one  of 
the  marked  features  of  the  day ;  and,  at 
about  half-past  one,  the  booming  of  one 
hundred  guns,  the  ringing  of  bells,  and 
the  shrieking  of  the  whistles  of  steamers 
and  locomotives,  proclaimed  that  Omaha 
and  Sacramento  were  forever  united  by 
iron  bands,  and  that  now  had  been  opened 
a  highway  from  the  gates  of  the  east  to 
the  realms  of  sunset  itself. 

Thus,  in  the  consummation  of  this 
mightiest  work  of  utility  ever  undertaken 
by  man,  a  journey  around  the  world  be- 
came a  tour  both  easy  and  brief.  The  city 
of  San  Francisco  could  be  reached  from 
New  York,  in  less  than  seven  days,  run- 
ning time.  Arrived  there,  the  finest 
ocean  steamers  in  the  Avorld,  each  one  of 
some  four  or  five  thousand  tons,  awaited 
the  traveler,  to  take  him,  in  twenty-one 
days,  or  less,  to  Yokohama,  and  thence,  in 
six  days  more,  to  any  part  of  China. 
From  Hong  Kong  to  Calcutta  required 
some  fourteen  da^'s  by  seA'eral  lines  of 
steamers  touching  at  Singapore,  Ceylon, 
Madras,  or  ports  on  the  coast  of  Burmah. 
From  Calcut*:a,  a  railroad  runs  far  up  into 
the  north  of  India,  on  the  borders  of 
Cashmere  and  Afghanistan,  and  running 
through  northern  India,  Benares,  Alla- 
habad, etc.  Another  road  intersects  at 
Allahabad,  more  than  six  hundred  miles 
above  Calcutta,  running  some  six  hundred 
miles  to  Bombay,  where  it  connects  with 
the  overland  route  to  and  from  Egypt,  in 
twelve  or  thirteen  daj's  by  steamer. and 
rail  from  Bombay  to  Cairo.  From  Cairo, 
almost  any  port  in  Europe  on  the  Medi- 
terranean could  be  reached  in  from  three  to 
five  days,  and  home  again  in  twelve  days 
more,  making  the  actual  traveling  time 
around  the  world  only  seventy-eight  days. 

More  wonderful  still,  a  trans-c-ontinental 
train,  which  left  New  York  early  on  the 
morning  of  June  1st,  1876,  reached  San 
Francisco  at  twenty-five  minutes  past  nine, 
June  4th,  in  the  morning ;  thus  accom- 
plishing the  journey  in  eighty-three  hours 
and  twenty  minutes,  without  stoppages 
and  without  accident. 


CVI. 

NATIONAL    PEACE   JUBILEE   AND    MUSICAL    FESTIVAL, 

IN  BOSTON,  IN   HONOR  OF  THE  EESTORATION 

OF  THE  UNION  OF  THE  STATES.— 1869. 


Ten  Thousand  Singers,  an  Orchestra  of  One  Thousand  Instruments,  and  Tens  of  Thousands  of  Spec- 
tators, in  the  Coliseum,  an  Immense  Building  Erected  for  the  Occasion. — Attendance  of  President 
Grant. — Sublime  and  Inspiring  Harmonies. — Most  Majestic  Musical  Demonstration  of  Modern  Times. 
— Origin  of  the  Jubilee. — P.  S.  Gilraore :  His  Zeal  and  Enthusiasm. — All  Discouragements  Overcome. 
— Magnificent  Programme. — Splendor  of  the  Coliseum. — It  Covers  Nearly  Four  Acres. — Inauguration 
Ceremonies. — View  of  the  Audience. — Scene  of  Surpassing  Enchantment. — Beauty  of  the  Decora- 
tions— Overtures,  Clioruses,  Anthems,  Etc — Parepa  Rosa,  Phillipps,  Ole  Bull. — Their  Professional 
Triumphs. — Zerrahn,  Tourjee,  Eichberg. — The  Famous  "Anvil"  Chorus. — Chiming  the  City  Bells. 
— Novel  Comniiiigling  of  Artillery  with  Music  — Tremendous  Ovation  to  Grant. — Half  a  Milhon 
People  in  the  City  — Testimonial  to  Mr.  Gilmore  — Last  Day :  Concert  by  Ten  Thousand  Children. 
— Triumphant  Success  of  the  Jubilee. 


"Let  ushave  peace! "—Genekal  Gbawt,  in  bis  Letteb  ACCEPTina  thb  PBESiDKriiAL  Nominatiow. 


OUR  long  and  welcome  years  of  peace  had  been  enjoyed  by  the  American  people, 
since  the  greatest  of  civil  wars  ever  waged  suddenly  ceased  its 
wasting  horrors,  by  the  surrender  of  the  army  of  Lee  to  General 
Grant,  and  that  of  Johnston  to  General  Sherman.  But,  as  yet,  no 
special  commemorative  celebration  of  the  momentous  event  had 
taken  place  in  any  part  of  the  land — except  that  outburst  of  joy 
and  satisfaction  in  all  parts,  with  which  the  final  grounding  of 
arms  was  greeted.  A  happy  local  conception  for  supplying  this 
omission,  to  some  extent,  was  that  of  the  well-known  organizer  of 
musical  bands  and  leader  of  instrumental  concerts,  Mr.  P.  S.  Gil- 
more,  of  Boston.  His  plan,  or  programme,  was  that  of  a  Grand 
National  Peace  Jubilee  in  that  city,  on  the  15th,  16th,  17th,  18th, 
and  19th  of  June,  1869,— the  grandest  outpouring  of  sublime  and  patriotic  music,  ever 
heard  upon  the  American  continent.  It  was  to  be  a  demonstration  which,  in  magnitude 
and  splendor,  would  represent  the  greatest  cause  for  national  rejoicing  which  the  Amer- 
ican people  were  ever  called  upon  to  celebrate,  and  in  which  the  glad  voices  of  a 
reunited  nation  should  mingle  in  one  common  song  of  thanksgiving  to  the  Almighty, 
for  the  return  of  those  blessings  which  years  of  terrible  strife  had  withheld ; — an  occa- 
sion which  should  bring  together,  in  fraternal  greeting,  the  leading  men  of  the  republic, 
throughout  all  its  borders,  and,  aside  from  its  imposing  significance  as  the  first  national 
re-union  since  the  close  of  the  war,  should  also  be  the  greatest  feast  of  inspiring  har- 
mony— majestic  choruses,  anthems  of  adoration,  military  and  patriotic  compositions, 


916 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


oratorio  and  symphony,  and  the  divinest 
airs  from  Mozart  and  Meyerbeer — ever 
heard  in  any  part  of  the  world. 

The  choruses,  it  was  further  proposed, 
should  be  performed  by  ten  to  fifteen 
thousand  voices,  comprising  the  very  best 
singers  obtainable  ;  the  orchestra  to  con- 
sist of  one  thousand  players,  including 
the  leading  bands  and  most  skillful  musi- 
cians in  the  United  States  ;  also,  a  vast 
and  powerful  organ,  together  with  the 
accompanying  effects  of  artillery,  chiming 
of  bells,  and  other  accessories.  The  whole 
to  be  held  in  an  immense  coliseum,  capa- 
ble of  accommodating  fifty  thousand  per- 
sons, and  to  be  magnificently  decorated 
with  historical  emblems  of  state  and  na- 
tional progress  since  the  formation  of  the 
Union. 

So  vast  and  novel  an  undertaking  was 
naturally  looked  upon  somewhat  distrust- 
fully, at  first,  by  those  to  whom  it  was 
unfolded.  One  of  the  warmest  of  Mr. 
Gilmore's  friends,  on  listening  to  an  ex- 
position of  the  plan,  remarked,  "  Why, 
Gilmore,  that  is  an  idea  fit  for  an  emperor, 
and  it  will  take  an  emperor  to  carry  it 
out."  "Then,"  laughingly  responded  Mr. 
Gilmore,  "  I  must  become  an  emperor." 
Discouraged  and  ridiculed  by  others,  he 
never  flagged  for  a  moment  in  energetic- 
ally urging  the  co-operation  of  influential 
men  in  behalf  of  his  plan,  and  gave  wide 
publicity  to  it;  from  one  end  of  the  land 
to  the  other.  At  leiigth,  opposition  began 
to  die  away ;  men  of  patriotism  and 
wealth  pledged  themselves  to  the  enter- 
prise ;  letters  strongly  endorsing  it  were 
received  from  eminent  officials  ;  and  prom- 
ises of  participation  freely  flowed  in  from 
musicians  and  musical  societies.  An  as- 
sociation was  now  formed  of  prominent 
gentlemen,  conspicuous  in  political,  pro- 
fessional, and  business  circles,  for  thorough 
and  effective  work,  in  forwarding  the  proj- 
ect to  a  speedy  and  complete  consumma- 
tion. 

On  the  29th  of  March,  work  on  the  great 
building  was  commenced,  and  it  soon  grew 
up  to  its  full  proportions,  majestic  in  size 
and  strength, — the  largest  edifice  that  had 


ever  been  erected  on  this  continent.  The 
size  of  the  building  was  three  hundred 
feet  by  five  hundred ;  the  height  of  its 
roof,  one  hundred  feet,  and  of  its  side 
walls  thirty-six  ;  and  the  promenade  was 
more  than  a  fourth  of  a  mile  in  length. 
The  interior  was  gorgeously  decorated ; 
folds  of  blue,  brown  and  gold,  depending 
from  the  galleries,  and  rich  frescoings  and 
many-tinted  banners  everywhere  meeting 
the  eye.  On  the  side  arches,  colossal 
angels  bore  up  the  inscription  "  Peace," 
and  over  the  central  arch  was  the  Song  of 
the  Annunciation,  "  Glory  to  God  in  the 
Highest,  Peace  on  Earth,  Good  Will 
toward  Men."  In  the  rear  of  these  arches, 
on  each  flank  of  the  organ,  appeared  me- 
dallions, one  representing  St.  Cecilia,  at- 
tended by  heavenly  beings,  who  are  listen- 
ing to  her  playing,  and  the  other  repre- 
senting David  and  his  harp.  The  great 
roof  was  supported  by  four  ranges  of 
pillars,  eighteen  in  each  range.  Those 
which  ran  along  the  front  of  the  galleries 
bore  each  the  coat-of-arms  of  a  State  of 
the  Union,  with  flags  rayed  from  it,  and 
an  eagle  above  ;  while  on  the  two  central 
ranges  of  pillars  the  banners  bore  the 
colors  of  foreign  nations,  the  portraits  of 
great  composers,  and  other  emblems.  The 
main  ceiling  was  hung  with  tri-colored 
streamers,  and  the  faces  of  the  galleries 
were  elegantly  frescoed.  The  end  of  the 
wall  behind  the  spectators  was  also  superb 
in  its  adornments,  including  a  mighty 
Angel  of  Peace,  with  her  right  hand 
raised,  and  holding  forward  the  sj'mbols 
of  harmony  and  peace,  while  with  her 
left  hand  she  waved  behind  her  the 
sanguinary  implements  of  war.  The  coat- 
of-arms  of  Massachusetts  and  the  city  seal 
of  Boston  appeared  on  either  flank.  The 
building  covered  some  three  or  four  acres. 
As  the  day  appointed  for  the  opening 
services  approached,  the  interest  in  the 
event  became  intense  in  every  part  of  the 
country,  and  Boston  was  crowded  as  it 
never  had  been  before  by  hosts  of  strangers. 
Everybody  and  everything  wore  a  holiday 
appearance.  Citizens  from  every  State  in 
the  Union  were  there. 


GREAT  AND  IVIEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


917 


At  aboiit  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
the  opening  exercises  of  the  celebration 
commenced  as  follows:  Prayer,  by  Rev. 
E.  E.  Hale  ;  address  of  welcome,  by  Mayor 
Slmrtleff;  oration,  by  Hon.  A.  H.  Rice. 
But  it  was  the  musical  feature  of  the 
occasion  for  which  the  tens  of  thousands 
gathered  together  in  that  vast  and  mag- 
nificent scene  were  anxiously  waiting. 
The  immense  amphitheater,  two  hundred 
feet  in  depth  from  the  front  of  the  orches- 
tra by  three  hundred  feet  in  width,  was 
filled  to  its  utmost  capacity  with  the  ten 
thousand  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  formed 
the  grand  chorus,  and  its  base  or  front 
center  was  occupied  by  the  orchestra  of 
one  thousand  instruments.  Be- 
hind the  orchestra  was  the  big 
drum,  eight  feet  in  diameter  and 
eight  feet  high,  and,  further 
back,  beyond  the  central  seats 
of  the  choir,  rose  the  organ, 
thirty  feet  in  height.  A  look 
at  the  orchestra  from  the  ex- 
treme north  end  of  the  building 
presented  a  sight  witnessed  only 
once  in  a  life-time. 

The  greatest  celebrity  noticed 
as  3'et  among  the  musicians  was 
Carl  Rosa,  who  was  seated 
among  the  violins,  and  beside 
whom  there  was  a  vacant  chair. 
Presently  there  was  burst  of 
cheers,  as  the  tall,  graceful,  and 
dignified  form  of  Ole  Bull  was 
seen  wending  his  wavdown  from  the  back 
to  take  his  seat  as  the  leader  of  the  violin- 
ists. And  now  there  was  a  perfect  torrent 
of  applause,  as  Mr.  Gilmore  advanced  to 
open  the  programme.  It  was  a  proud 
moment  for  him,  as  he  stood  there,  to 
reflect  that  this,  the  greatest  of  musical 
festivals,  sprang  up  under  his  magic  wand. 
Another  warm  welcome  was  in  store  for 
Mr.  Eichberg,  Mr.  Zerrahn,  Mr.  Tourjee, 
Madame  Parepa-Rosa,  Miss  Pliillipps,  and 
other  leaders,  as  they  made  their  appear- 
ance. 

Luther's  great  choral,  '•  God  is  a  castle 
and  defense,"  began  the  grand  perform- 
ances,  and    as,  in   magnificent   strength 


and  beauty,  the  vast  volume  of  pure  sound 
arose  from  ten  thousand  voices  and  a 
thousand  instruments,  the  grandeur  of  the 
effect  was  indescribable.  To  this  suc- 
ceeded the  Tannhauser  overture,  exciting 
and  entrancing  the  senses  and  filling  the 
soul  with  weird  and  peculiar  pleasure  ;  and 
then  came  the  "  Gloria,"  from  Mozart's 
Twelfth  Mass.  In  Gounod's  "Ave  Maria," 
Madame  Parepa-Rosa  made  her  appear- 
ance as  the  first  soloist  of  the  jubilee. 
She  was  clad  in  faultless  w*hite,  and  re- 
ceived a  tremendous  ovation.  The  accom- 
paniment of  two  hundred  chosen  violins, 
led  by  Bull,  Carl  Rosa,  Schultze,  Suck, 
Meisel,  Eichberg,  and  others,  began  sweet- 


ly', thrilling! y.  and  tenderly,  adding  to  the 
anxiety  of  the  audience.  Suddenly  a  note, 
clear,  sublime,  and  heard  above  all  else  and 
to  the  farthest  corner  of  the  hall,  began  the 
"Ave  Maria,"  which  the  prima  donna  sang 
with  matchless  skill.  In  this,  as  also  in 
the  beautiful  "  Inflammatus,"  she  was  en- 
cored with  a  fervor  such  as  no  woman  ever 
saw  manifested  by  an  audience  before. 
The  scene  was  enchanting. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  first  part  of 
the  concert,  the  "Star  Spangled  Banner" 
was  given  with  grand  and  overpowering 
effect,  producing  the  wildest  excitement 
in  the  audience.  The  choral  combinations 
of  the  parts  used  in  the  piece  were  very 


918 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ingenious,  and,  in  addition  to  these,  the 
aid  of  a  great  military  band,  of  an  immense 
drum  corps,  and  of  artillery,  was  given  to 
the  chorus,  orchestra  and  organ.  The 
artillery  firing,  by  means  of  electricity, 
was  a  novel  and  most  striking  feature  in 
this  piece,  as  was  also  the  ringing  of  the 
bells  of  the  city  in  unison,  from  the  tele- 
graph stand. 

In  the  second  part,  the  "Hymn  of 
Praise,"  composed  for  the  occasion  by  Dr. 
0.  W.  Holmes,  and  set  to  the  music  of 
Keller's  American  Hymn,  was  the  first 
piece,  and  was  beautifully  and  nobly  exe- 
cuted. After  this  came  Rossini's  overture 
to  William  Tell,  the  performance  of  which 
was  pronounced  to  be  the  sublimest  orches- 
tral rendering  ever  given  in  America — 
true,  wonderful,  and  lovely,  revealing  in 
most  remarkable  beauty,  the  noble  melo- 
dies and  harmonies  of  the  composition. 
After  the  "  Coronation  March,"  from  Mey- 
erbeer, came  the  "  Anvil  Chorus  "  from 
"  II  Trovatore,"  producing  a  tremendous 
sensation  among  the  audience  and  receiv- 
ing an  uproarious  encore.  The  pictur- 
esque hundred  firemen,  in  black  pants,  red 
shirts,  and  white  caps,  did  their  duty 
admirably,  beating  their  anvils  with  fine 
effect,  and  with  such  precision  as  not  to 
miss  a  note  amid  the  rapid  cadences  which 
the  orchestra  gave  with  such  force.  "  My 
Country,  'tis  of  Thee,"  with  the  same 
novel  accessories  as  the  "  Star  Spangled 
Banner,"  concluded  the  first  day's  concert 
most  appropriately^,  the  audience  joining 
in  the  last  stanza  with  magnificent  effect. 
The  hundred  anvils  were  ranged  in  four 
rows,  extending  from  near  the  front  of  the 
platform  to  the  back  of  the  orchestra  stage. 
No  words  can  adequately  describe  the 
transporting  effect  of  this  first  day's  per- 
formance upon  the  thousands  assembled 
under  that  vast  roof.  A  distinguished 
gentleman  sent  the  following  telegram  to 
his  wife,  at  the  close  of  the  concert: 
"Nothing  like  it  in  a  life-time.  Will 
make  any  sacrifice  to  have  you  here  Thurs- 
day.    Come  by  express  train." 

The  second  day  of  the  jubilee  was  ren- 
dered still  more  exciting  and  memorable 


by  the  presence  of  the  chief  magistrate  of 
the  nation.  General  Grant.  The  popular 
success  of  the  great  national  festival  prov- 
ed, under  these  circumstances,  absolutely 
enormous.  The  Common  was  covered  with 
people,  and  the  streets  were  so  crowded 
that  motion  was  almost  impossible.  The 
military  marched  with  much  difficulty 
along  a  portion  of  the  route,  and  around 
the  coliseum  the  mass  of  people  became  so 
dense  all  day,  that  it  was  difficult  to  ap- 
proach the  doors.  Many  of  the  hotels  and 
restaurants  were  even  forced  to  lock  their 
doors,  to  keep  out  the  hungry  multitude 
whom  they  could  not  supply. 

A  constant  ovation  attended  the  presi- 
dent's reception  until  he  reached  the 
coliseum,  and  there  he  found  acres  of 
humanity  waiting  his  entrance.  The  par- 
lor to  which  the  illustrious  guest  was  con- 
ducted exhibited  most  elegant  taste,  in 
keeping  with  all  the  appointments  of  the 
magnificent  edifice  throughout.  The  walls 
were  tinted  and  paneled  in  fresco  ;  dra- 
pery, and  lace  curtains,  and  cornices  en- 
riched the  windows  ;  beautiful  carpeting 
covered  the  floor ;  splendid  sets  of  black 
walnut  furniture  were  provided  ;  and  then 
there  were  rustic  baskets  filled  with  the 
choicest  cut  flowers  suspended  from  nu- 
merous points,  elegant  and  spacious  mir- 
rors and  choice  paintings  hung  upon  the 
walls,  and  superb  works  of  art  contributed 
to  the  admirable  to2(t  e^isemhle  of  the 
apartment.  Here  the  distinguished  guest 
received  the  courtesies  of  the  originator  of 
the  jubilee  and  his  colleague,  after  which 
he  proceeded  to  the  audience  hall. 

As  the  president  passed  down  the  cen- 
ter aisle  of  the  building  to  his  seat,  arm 
in  arm  with  Governor  Claflin,  followed  by 
Admirals  Farragut  and  Hudson,  Commo- 
dore Winslow,  Secretary  Boutwell,  Mayor 
Shurtleff,  and  others,  the  vast  assembly 
started  to  their  feet  as  if  by  one  common 
impulse,  and  while  the  hero  stood,  hat  in 
hand,  bowing  to  the  mighty  throng,  a 
cheer  xvent  up  from  sixty  thousand  voices, 
and  filled  the  far-extended  structure,  like 
the  mighty  roar  of  the  ocean.  For  full 
five  minutes  were  these  cheers  continued 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


919 


from  audience  and  chorus  and  orchestra, 
accompanied  by  the  waving  of  thousands 
of  handkerchiefs  in  the  hands  of  fair 
■women.  In  the  midst  of  this  scene  of 
unparalleled  enthusiasm,  the  powerful  or- 
gan thundered  forth  the  strains  of  "  See 
the  Conquering  Hero  Comes,"  and  then, 
as  the  music  progressed,  at  a  signal  from 
Mr.  Gilmore's  baton,  ten  thousand  souls, 
in  colossal  chorus,  gave  voice  to  the  words 
of  that  welcoming  anthem.  The  climax 
of  the  Week  of  Festival  was  now  fairly 
reached. 

In  compliment  to  the  president,  the 
"  Star  Spangled  Banner  "  was  introduced 
between  the  two  parts  of  the  programme  ; 
and  to  this  was  added  the  "Anvil  Chorus," 
with  the  original  one  hundred  anvils  and 
the  one  hundred  red-shirted  firemen  to 
beat  them — and  this,  with  the  adjuncts  of 
cannon  and  bells,  threw  the  audience  into 
a  frenzy  of  rapturous  delight.  There  was 
more  classical  music  on  this  occasion  than 
on  the  day  previous,  but  the  president 
appeared  to  prefer  the  more  popular  patri- 
otic airs,  and  the  firing  of  guns  by  elec- 
tricity appeared  to  interest  him  much. 
This  battery  of  Parrott  guns,  placed  im- 
mediately within  the  coliseum,  were  ma- 
nipulated in  front  of  the  conductor's  stand, 
the  process  being  that  of  touching,  at  the 
proper  moment,  the  keys  of  an  electrical 
instrument,  to  which  the  guns  were  con- 
nected by  wires,  precisely  as  the  keys  of 
an  organ  or  piano  are  struck,  when  har- 
mony in  the  measurement  of  time  is  de- 
manded. 

With  evident  satisfaction,  the  president 
listened  to  Parepa-Rosa,  as  she  sang 
Handel's  "  Let  the  Bright  Seraphim." 
Without  the  faintest  appearance  of  effort, 
she  sang  as  clearly  and  brilliantly  as  if  in 
a  concert  room  of  ordinar}'^  dimensions,  the 
clear  sounds  of  her  imperial  voice  sweep- 
ing throughout  the  galleries  and  corri- 
dors in  trumpet-like  tones.  The  audience 
was  electrified.  Not  only  spectators,  but 
the  twelve  thousand  choristers  and  one 
thousand  performers,  rose  and  vehemently 
cheered  or  waved  their  handkerchiefs. 
Another  splendid  vocal  triumph  was  that 


achieved  by  Miss  Adelaide  Phillipps,  in 
the  singing  of  Mozart's  aria  from  the 
Clemenza  di  Tito.  The  chorus,  "Glory  to 
God  in  the  highest,  peace  on  earth,  good 
will  to  men,"  was  another  of  the  perform- 
ances. Hardly  was  it  finished,  when 
another — "  And  the  glory  of  the  Lord 
shall  be  revealed  " — was  taken  up  by  the 
thousand  altos,  and  echoed  by  the  basses 
and  sopranos  until  the  hall  rung.  Noth- 
ing in  the  whole  range  of  music  could  be 
more  thunderous  and  intense  than  the 
concluding  strains  of  this  chorus.  The 
chorus  from  Mendelssohn,  "  He  watching 
over  Israel,  slumbers  not-  nor  sleeps,"  had 
an  almost  divine  pathos  and  melody.  The 
great  swaying  grandeur  of  "America " 
impressed  the  chief  magistrate  deeply.  As 
he  left  the  building,  salvos  of  artillery 
broke  upon  the  air,  fired  in  unison  with 
the  last  chords  of  the  strains  of  music  and 
the  rounds  of  cheers. 

Mr.  Gilmore's  programme  for  the  third 
day  consisted  of  popular  and  patriotic 
music,  such  as  kept  the  vast  crowd  in  a 
continual  furore  of  pleasurable  excite- 
ment. The  first  piece,  the  overture  to 
Auber's  "  Era  Diavolo,"  was  splendidly 
played  by  the  full  orchestra  of  upward  of 
one  thousand,  and  a  novel  and  very  pleas- 
ing effect  was  produced  by  placing  fifty 
trumpets,  or  cornets,  on  the  solo  trumpet 
part,  the  matchless  Arbuckle  being  at  the 
head  of  the  list.  Luther's  grand  old 
choral,  "  The  Judgment  Hymn,"  was 
given  by  the  full  chorus,  with  full  orches- 
tral and  organ  accompaniment.  The  next 
performance  was  the  "  Peace  Festival 
March,"  composed  for  the  occasion  by 
Signor  Janotta.  It  was  performed  by  the 
grand  orchestra  and  military  band  com- 
bined, and  was  a  magnificent  success. 
Madame  Parepa-Rosa  next  rendered  an 
aria  from  "  Robert  le  Diable  ;  "  and  the 
Anvil  Chorus,  and  "  Overture  Triomphale" 
on  the  American  national  air  "  Hail  Co- 
lumbia," composed  for  the  festival  by  C. 
C.  Converse,  closed  the  first  part  of  the 
programme.  The  second  part  included 
the  "Prince  Frederick"  march,  the  "Star 
Spangled  Banner,"   a  cornet   solo  by  Ar- 


920 


OUK  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


buckle,  "The  Harp  that  once  through 
Tara's  HalLs,"  the  overture  to  Flotow's 
"  Stradella,"  and  the  "One  Hundredth 
Psalm."  The  whole  audience  joined  in 
the  last  verse  of  the  psalm,  and  the  accom- 
paniment comprised  the  organ,  orchestra, 
and  cannon. 

In  the  evening,  a  Jubilee  Ball  was 
given  in  the  coliseum,  which  was  an 
immense  success.  A  dancing  hall  of  colos- 
sal proportions  was  provided,  and  the 
coliseum  presented  a  more  magnificent 
appearance   under  the  effect  of  fifty  thou- 


superb,  —  the   largest   ball,    indeed,    ever 
known  in  this  country. 

A  purely  classical  programme  was  ar- 
ranged for  the  fourth  day,  and  the  highest 
expectations  of  success  were  fully  realized. 
Complete  in  its  artistic  results,  no  heartier 
enthusiasm  was  displaj^ed  at  any  time  dur- 
ing the  festival  than  that  which  followed 
the  various  choral  and  orchestral  selections 
of  this  day.  Among  the  performances 
were  the  "Gloria"  from  the  Twelfth  Mass, 
the  "Hallelujah  Chorus,"  "Achieved  is 
the  Glorious  Work,"  the  "  Prayer  "  from 


NATIONAL  PEACE  JUBILEE  AND  MUSICAL  FESTIVAL,  AT  BOSTON. 


sand  gas-lights,  than  in  the  day  time.  The 
decorations  were  thrown  out  boldly,  while 
the  rich  toilets  of  tlie  ladies  heightened 
tlie  general  enchantment  of  the  scene. 
The  order  of  dances  was  twenty-two  in 
nunil)er,  and  the  l>all  opened  promptly  at 
half-past  nine,  Mr.  Gihnore  waving  the 
baton.  The  orchestra  was  mnde  up  of  a 
dance  and  promenade  band,  the  former 
under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Gil  more,  and 
the  latter  under  Mr.  Harvey  B.  Dodworth, 
of  New  York.  Ten  thousand  persons  were 
present,  and  the  affair  was  in  all  respects 


Moses  in  Egypt,  etc.  The  choral,  "To 
God  on  High,"  and  "  Sleepers  wake,  a 
voice  is  calling,"  were  both  sung  almost 
perfectl}^,  showing,  magnificently,  their 
solid  grandeur  and  beauty.  The  purely 
instrumental  performances,  Weber's  "  Ju- 
bilee "  overture,  and  the  Fifth  Symphony 
of  Beethoven,  were  rendered  in  the  most 
majestic  style.  Miss  Phillipps  gave  Han- 
del's beautiful  "Lascia  chio  pianga"  in 
the  most  finished  and  graceful  manner,  so 
that  the  audience  were  excited  to  the  very 
highest  pitch  of  enthusiasm,  and  an  encore 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


921 


was  rapturously  demanded.  Mr.  George 
Peabody  was  introduced  to  the  audience, 
during  the  intermisson,  and  was  loudly 
cheered.  There  were  also  on  the  plat- 
form, with  him,  Governors  Claflin  and 
Jewell,  Senators  Sumner  and  Wilson, 
Generals  Banks  and  Hawley,  Bishop  Simp- 
son, Dr.  Lowell  Mason,  and  other  distin- 
guished guests. 

Saturday  was  the  fifth  and  last  day  of 
this  grandest  musical  festival  of  modern 
times.  Ten  thousand  school  children, 
their  innocent  voices  pouring  forth  a  flood 
of  sweet  and  simple  song,  constituted  the 
great  attraction  of  the  day.  Clad  in  white 
dresses,  with  red  and  blue  ribbons,  the 
appearance  of  the  girls  was  charming  in 
the  extreme.  It  was  the  largest  chorus 
of  children  ever  brought  together  in  the 
world,  and  the  concourse  of  spectators  was 
vast.  Chorals,  three-part  songs,  national 
airs,  etc.,  were  performed  with  great  skill 
and  power  by  the  juvenile  songsters,  elicit- 
ing unbounded  applause,  ''  Hail  Colum- 
bia," and  "Now  the  twilight  softly  steal- 
ing," were  exquisitely  rendered.  Brinley 
Eichards's  song,  "So  merrily  over  the 
ocean  spray,"  was  one  of  the  most  telling 
features  of  the  day  ;  the  solo  was  sustained 
by  five  hundred  pupils  of  the  girls'  high 
and  normal  school,  and  the  chorus  by  all 
tlie  children.  "God  is  a  Castle  and 
Defense  "  was  given  with  fine  effect ;  and 
Ole  Bull's  marvelous  skill  as  a  violinist 
was  displayed  in  the  solo,  "  A  Mother's 
Prayer."  The  orchestra  played  the  over- 
ture to  "  AYilliam  Tell,"  and  the  corona- 
tion march  from  "  The  Prophet."  Madame 
Rosa  repeated  "  Let  the  Bright  Sera- 
phim," with  Mr.  Arbuckle's  accompani- 
ment. A  duet,  "  Quis  est  homo,"  sung 
by  Madame  Rosa  and  Miss  Phillipps,  was 
a  performance  long  to  be  remembered. 
During  the  intermission,  Mr.  Gilmore  was 
called  from  the  orchestra  to  the  editors' 
room,  where  Mr.  Carl  Gartner,  of  Phila- 
delphia, presented  to  him  a  massive  gold 
watch,  of  great  elegance  and  cost,  and  a 
heav^y  gold  chain,  as  a  testimonial  of  re- 
spect and  regard  from  the  members  of  the 
orchestra.      The   gift  was  entirely  unex- 


pected to  Mr.  Gilmore,  who  made  a  fitting 
response.  The  "  Russian  National  Hymn," 
with  words  of  welcome  to  President  Grant, 
was  executed  in  a  manner  that  showed  the 
excellent  vocal  culture  of  the  children ; 
and  the  concert  was  brought  to  a  close  by 
singing,  in  grand  chorus,  the  One  Hun- 
dreth  Psalm. 

To  say  that  the  efforts  and  anticipations 
of  those  who  originated  the  National  Peace 
Jubilee  and  Musical  Festival  were  crown- 
ed with  triumphant  success,  from  first  to 
last,  is  but  uttering  the  simple  truth.  It 
was  a  mighty  conception,  and  the  result 
was  the  greatest  musical  event  in  the  his- 
tory of  modern  times.  The  very  first 
daj-'s  performances  were  so  satisfying  and 
so  enthusiastically  received,  as  to  render 
the  succeeding  efforts  comparatively  easy 
and  sure.  From  the  opening  to  the  clos- 
ing performance,  the  rapturous  excitement 
and  delight  continued  without  abatement. 
At  times  it  rose  to  almost  wild  delirium. 
The  audience  and  the  performers  seemed 
to  be  actuated  by  one  impulse  of  magnetic 
fervor.  Unquestionably,  the  great  musical 
artiste  was  Madame  Parepa-Rosa,  who 
gained  new  triumphs  every  day.  Even 
the  musicians,  when  she  came  to  the  last 
notes  of  the  "  Star  Spangled  Banner," 
where  in  capacity  of  voice  she  almost 
rivaled  Jenny  Liud,  laid  down  their  in- 
struments, and  gazed  in  wonder.  Her 
pure,  full,  and  resonant  notes  seemed  to 
triumph  over  walls  and  roof,  and  to  fill  all 
space  with  tangible  and  enchanting  mel- 
ody. 

General  Grant's  presence  gave  magnif- 
icent eclat  to  the  occasion.  Fully  half  a 
million  people  were  in  the  city  on  that 
day,  and  the  rush  to  the  coliseum  was  ter- 
rific, there  being  fifty  thousand  persons 
outside  of  the  building,  unable  to  obtain 
admission.  Hours  before  the  time  of  the 
concert,  orders  had  to  be  issued  prohibit- 
ing the  further  sale  of  tickets  ;  and,  almost 
as  soon  as  the  performances  commenced, 
every  door  was  closed,  secured  by  iron 
clamps,  and  guarded  b}'  the  police.  Those 
who  arrived  late,  holders  of  season  tickets, 
purchasers  of  single  day  tickets  bought  of 


922 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  speculators  at  a  great  price,  members 
of  parties  whose  friends  were  already 
inside,  even  journalists  with  their  tickets 
and  badges,  were  firmly  refused  admission. 
General  Grant  surveyed  the  vast  and  brill- 
iant mass  of  humanity  with  evidently 
greater  interest  than  that  with  which  he 
listened  to  the  music.  Indeed,  it  was 
well  known  that,  among  his  many  fine 
qualities,  a  taste  for  this  divine  art  was 
not  included.  When,  therefore,  General 
Underwood  called  upon  General  Sherman, 
on  the  morning  before  the  president's 
departure  for  Boston,  General  Sherman 
said,  "Taking  Grant  off  to  that  drum 
match,  are  you.  Underwood  ? "  "  Yes, 
general,  and  I  am  very  sorry  you  cannot 
join  us."  "  Well,"  responded  Sherman, 
"  it  is  a  kind  of  disappointment,  you  know, 
because  I  can  appreciate  those  things ; 
but  the  President !  bless  your  soul,  he'll 
be  bored  to  death  !  And,  worse  than  all 
that,  he  has  no  ear  for  music.  Why,  do 
you  know  that  Grant  actually  couldn't  tell 
the  difference  betw^een  Yankee  Doodle  and 
Zip  Coon  ?  "  On  his  way  from  Boston, 
the  evening  after  his  attendance  at  the 
coliseum.  President  Grant  was  asked  how 
he  liked  the  discharge  of  artillery  during 
the  performances  that  afternoon.  He  re- 
plied that,  in  his  opinion,  '*  the  firing  was 
the  best  part  of  the  music  !  " 

Much  of  the  sustaining  character  of  the 
choruses  was  due  to  the  admix-able  adapt- 
edness  of  the  organ  to  the  occasion.  Its 
tones  were  heard  and  felt  clear  over  and 
through  the  host  of  voices  and  instru- 
ments ;  at  times  it  seemed  to  overshadow 
all,  and  its  thunder  tones  shook  the  whole 
vast  building.  It  had  but  a  single  man- 
ual, besides  the  pedals  and  sub-bass,  but 
was  capable  of  all  desirable  combinations, 
and  was  an  organ  complete  of  itself.  Re- 
peated experiments  were  necessary  to  get 
pipes  of  sufficient  compass  as  well  as  ex- 
cellence, and  the  result  was  the  production 
of  an  instrument  which,  for  volume  of 
sound,  could  not  be  surpassed  by  a  union 
of  the  four  largest  organs  in  Boston.  This 
power  was  due  not  only  to  the  capabilities 
of  the  tubes,  but  to  the  immense  pressure 


of  air  brought  to  bear  on  them — four  thou- 
sand pounds.  The  chief  element  of 
strength  was  the  tuba  viirabilis  stop  — 
found  in  but  two  other  organs  in  the 
whole  country.  There  were  twelve  com- 
plete sounding  stops,  with  one  hundred 
and  sixty  pipes  connected.  The  instru- 
ment was  twenty-two  feet  broad  and  thirty 
feet  high. 

Another  of  the  wonders  of  this  wonder- 
ful week  was  the  monster  bass  drum — the 
heads  measuring  nearly  eight  feet  each  in 
diameter,  made  from  the  hides  of  two 
mammoth  oxen,  which  had  been  exhibited 
through  the  country  during  several  years 
past.  On  each  head  was  the  motto,  "  Let 
us  have  Peace."  The  drum  was  about 
three  feet  through  from  head  to  head, 
and  the  rim  was  painted  red,  white 
and  blue.  It  was  thoroughly  perfect  in 
all  its  parts,  and,  being  the  largest  drum 
in  the  world  —  for  no  larger  one  could 
be  made,  without  using  the  hides  of 
elephants  for  the  heads  —  created  a  de- 
cided sensation. 

Wniatever  deficiencies  or  shortcomings 
a  critical  eye  may  have  detected  in  any  of 
the  various  features  characterizing  so  stu- 
pendous an  undertaking,  it  was  almost 
universally  pronounced  a  great  success, 
realizing,  in  the  highest  degree,  the  patri- 
otic wish  of  the  projector  and  his  associ- 
ates, that  the  restoration  of  Peace  through- 
out the  land  should  be  celebi-ated  by  one 
of  the  most  imposing  national  gatherings 
ever  assembled  in  any  land  ;  and  that  the 
return  of  kindly  feeling  and  the  prepetua- 
tion  of  National  Unit}^,  should  be  sealed 
by  the  grandest  outburst  of  sublime  and 
inspiring  harmony  that  had  ever  fallen 
upon  human  ears.  The  management  of 
the  whole  affair  was  such  as  to  command 
the  highest  praise. 

The  monster  entertainment  known  as 
"  The  World's  Peace  Jubilee  and  Inter- 
national Musical  Festival,"  was  opened  in 
Boston,  June  17,  1872,  and  continued, 
with  var3'ing  performances,  which  were 
attended  by  multitudes  of  people,  from  all 
parts  of  the  countrj^,  until  July  4th.  The 
chorun  numbered  twenty  thousand  voices, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


'923 


embracing  one  hundred  and  sixty-five 
musical  societies  from  the  different  states, 
but  principally  from  New  England.  The 
orchestra  parts  numbered  about  two  thou- 
sand, including  twenty-seven  brass  bands, 
beside    the   foreign   military   bands,   the 


United  States  marine  band,  the  Em- 
peror William's  cornet  quartet,  British 
Grenadier  band,  Strauss's  orchestra,  and 
such  renowned  virtuosos  as  Madame  Ara- 
bella Goddard;  Peschka-Leutner,  Ruders* 
dorff,  etc. 


CYII. 

BURNING    OF   THE   CITY   OF   CHICAGO,   ILL.,   THE    COM- 
MERCIAL  METROPOLIS   OF  THE   NORTH- 
WEST.—1871. 


Most  Destructive  Conflagration  in  the  History  of  Civilized  Nations. — A  Thirty  Hours'  Tornado  of  Fire 
in  all  Directions. — Vast  Billows  of  Inextinguishable  Flame. — Upwards  of  Two  Thousand  Acres,  or 
Seventy-three  Miles  of  Streets,  with  17,450  Buildings,  Destroyed :  Loss,  .^200,000,000.— Ignoble  Ori- 
gin of  the  Fire.— Fatal  Mistake  of  a  Policeman. — Combustibles  all  Around. — A  Strong  Gale  Prevail- 
ing.— Frightful  Rapidity  of  the  Flames. — Destruction  of  the  Water- Works  — Stores  and  Warehouses 
Swept  Away. — Palaces  and  Hovels  a  Common  Prey. — Engines  Sent  from  Seven  States. — The  Mid- 
liight  Scene. — Terror  Indescribable. — Flight  for  Life. — Burning  of  the  Bridges. — Helplessness,  Des- 
peration, Death  — Churches,  Hotels,  Theaters,  in  Ashes  — Fate  of  the  Newspapers,  Banks,  etc. — 
Explosion  of  the  Gas-Works. — Tombs  and  Graves  Consumed. — Most  Ghastly  Spectacle. — Nearly 
100,000  Persons  Homeless.— The  Wail  for  Help.— A  World's  Sympathies  Poured  Forth. 


"Blackened  and  bleeding,  pantins.  prone 

On  the  charred  fra^ment-s  of  her  chittered  throne, 

lAea  she  who  etood,  but  yeaterday,  alone."— Bret  Harts. 


MB.  OGDEN'S  HOUSE  UNTOUCHED  IX  THE  MIDST  OF  THE  GREAT  FIRE. 


iN  Sunday  and  Monday,  October  eighth  and  ninth,  1871,  there 
occurred  in  Chicago,  the   great  commercial  metropolis  of  the 
north-west,    a  fire  unparalleled  in  the   history  of  the  world. 
_    ^_  The  fire  originated  in  a  small  frame  structure  in  the  rear  of 

"'  No.   137  DeKoven  street,  used  as  a  cow-stable.      It  was  dis- 

covered  at  about  half-past  nine   o'clock  in  the  evening,  by  a  policeman,  when  it  was 
very  small,  and  who,  hoping  to  extinguish  it  without  sounding  an  alarm,  set  himself  to 


<S1^ 


GREAT  AND  ME^IORABLE  EVENTS. 


925 


work  to  do  so, — a  fatal  miscalculation,  as 
the  result  soon  proved.  A  strong  south- 
westerly wind  was  blowing  at  the  time ; 
no  rain  had  fallen  for  several  weeks  previ- 
ous ;  and  consequently  all  combustible 
matter  was  prepared  for  ready  ignition. 
It  was  also  a  portion  of  the  city  occupied 
by  the  poorer  classes,  principally  T  he- 
mian  emigrant  families,  and  being  in  the 
vicinity  of  several  planing  mills,  shingle 
mills,  and  factories,  had  collected  a  large 
quantity  of  shavings  from  these  places, 
and  stored  them  in  the  basements  and 
yards  of  their  premises  for  winter  use. 

All  the  fire  apparatus  of  the  city  was 
brought  into  requisition,  and,  considering 
the  difficulties  to  be  encountered,  the  cour- 
age and  energy  of  the  firemen  could  not 
be  surpassed.  They  had  just  passed 
through  a  severe  fire  twenty-four  hours 
previous,  and  part  of  the  companies  had 
left  the  scene  of  the  Saturday  night  fire 
but  a  few  hours,  when  they  were  agaii 
called,  exhausted  with  hard  labor,  to  this 
fearful  scene. 

The  flames  shot  with  frightful  rapidity 
from  house  to  house  and  from  board-yard 
to  board-yard,  all  human  means  appearing 
utterly  powerless  to  stay  their  progress. 
On  they  went,  in  a  northerly  direction, 
covering  a  space  of  two  or  three  blocks  in 
width,  until  the  burnt  district  of  the  pre- 
vious night's  fire  was  reached,  and  this 
served  the  purpose  of  preventing  their 
farther  spread  on  the  west  side  of  the 
river.  Sweeping  every  thing  in  their 
course,  up  to  the  locality  named,  the 
flames  leaped  across  the  river,  and  vio- 
lently communicated  with  tlie  buildings 
there.  Quickly  they  traveled  north,  de- 
vouring everything  as  they  went,  until 
that  section  of  th^  south  division  which 
embraced  nearly  all  the  grandest  struct- 
ures and  thorouglifares  was  reached,  and 
there  seemed  to  be  no  encouragement  to 
farther  efforts  to  save  the  city  from  its 
fiery  doom.  Unfortunately,  one  of  the 
first  public  buildings  reached  by  the  fire 
was  the  water-works ;  this  cut  off  the 
water  supply,  rendering  the  fire  depart- 
ment useless. 


The  awful  gale  which  prevailed  filled 
the  air  with  live  coals,  and  hurled  to  an 
immense  distance,  in  every  direction,  blaz- 
ing brands  and  boards,  —  a  widespread 
besom  of  furious  destruction.  All  of  the 
leading  banks  of  the  city,  several  of  the 
stone  church  edifices,  costly  and  elegant 
in  the  extreme;  the  beautiful  railroad 
depot  of  the  Michigan  Southern  and  the 
Rock  Island  railway  companies,  also  that 
of  the  Illinois  Central  and  tlie  Michigan 
Central  railroads  ;  the  court-house  and  the 
chamber  of  commerce ;  the  Sherman,  Tre- 
mont,  Briggs,  Palmer,  Bigelow,  Metropol- 
itan, and  several  other  hotels,  as  well  as 
the  gigantic  Pacific,  which  was  in  process 
of  construction ;  all  the  great  newspaper 
establishments;  the  Crosby  opera-house, 
McVicker's  theater,  and  every  other  prom- 
inent place  of  amusement;  the  post-office, 
telegraph  offices,  Farwell  hall,  the  mag- 
nificent Drake-Farwell  block,  the  stately 
dry  goods  palaces  of  J.  V.  Farwell  &  Co., 
Field,  Leiter  &  Co.,  scores  of  elegant  resi- 
dences in  Wabash  and  Michigan  avenues, 
numbers  of  elevators  in  which  were  stored 
millions  of  bushels  of  grain ;  in  fact,  all 
that  the  hand  of  man  had  fashioned  or 
reare'^'.  -^^as  completely  swept  away,  as  the 
fire  na  .ly  rushed  to  the  north. 

W^.h  tremendous  force,  the  mighty  and 
uncontrollable  element,  rushing  to  the 
main  channel  of  the  river,  near  its  en- 
trance into  Lake  Michigan,  consumed  the 
bridges,  and  attacked  the  north  division 
with  relentless  fury.  All  day,  on  ]\Ion- 
day,  and  through  the  succeeding  night,  it 
waged  its  work  of  devastation,  advancing, 
with  wonderful  speed,  from  block  to  block, 
and  from  street  to  street,  over  a  vast  sur- 
face, sparing  scarcely  anything.  The 
destruction  of  palatial  residences  and  mag- 
nificent churches  continued,  while  stores 
and  dwellings  by  the  hundreds,  together 
with  the  costly  water-works,  the  north  side 
gas-works,  Rush  medical  college,  the  Chi- 
cago and  North-western  railway  depot,  sev- 
eral immense  breweries,  coal  yards,  lum- 
ber yards,  and  manufacturing  establish- 
ments of  various  kinds,  and  in  great 
numbers,  yielded  to  the  resistless  enemy. 


926 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


By  midnight,  nearly  the  entire  popula- 
tion of  the  city  had  been  aroused,  and  the 
streets,  for  an  immense  distance  surround- 
ing the  scene  of  the  disaster,  were  thronged 
with  excited,  swaying  humanity,  and  with 
all  descriptions  of  vehicles,  pressed  into 
service  for  the  hasty  removal  of  household 
goods  and  personal  effects ;  loading  and 
unloading,  here,  and  there,  and  every- 
where, was  going  on  in  promiscuous  con- 
fusion. Invalids  and  cripples  were  car- 
ried away  on  improvised  ambulances; 
aged  women  and  helpless  infants  were 
hastily  borne  to  places  of  supposed  safety ; 
people  who  were  utterly  overcome  with 
excitement  and  fatigue  were  seen  sleeping 
on  lounges,  trunks  and  tables,  in  the 
street ;  and  empty  houses  were  forcibly 
broken  open  and  taken  possession  of  by 
homeless  wanderers,  made  desperate  by  the 
awful  surroundings. 

One  of  the  most  fearfully  thrilling 
scenes  of  the  great  conflagration,  as  nar- 
rated, occurred  in  the  eastern  section  of 
the  north  division.  When  it  became  ap- 
parent that  all  hope  of  saving  the  city  was 
lost,  after  the  flames  had  pushed  down  to 
the  main  branch  of  the  river,  the  citizens 
of  the  north  side,  who  were  over  to  see  the 
main  theater  of  the  fire,  thought  it  time 
to  go  over  to  their  own  division,  and  save 
what  they  could.  Accordingly,  they  beat 
a  rai)id  retreat  toward  the  tunnel  and 
bridges.  The  former  of  these  thorough- 
fares was  impassable  at  three  o'clock. 
Clark  street  had  not  been  opened  for  some 
time,  and  State  street  was  in  a  blaze  from 
one  end  to  the  other.  Rush  street  bridge 
proved  to  be  the  only  means  of  getting 
away  from  the  south  side,  and  over  that 
bridge  the  affrighted  fugitives  poured  in 
thousands.  Tlieir  flight  was  not  quicker 
than  was  the  advance  of  the  flames.  The 
latter  jumped  the  river  with  miraculous 
swiftness,  and  ran  along  the  northern  sec- 
tion like  lightning.  So  rapid  was  the 
march  of  the  fiery  element,  driven  by  the 
heavy  gale,  that  the  people  were  glad 
enough  to  escape  unscathed.  Everything 
was  abandoned.  Horses  and  wagons  were 
used  merely  as  a  means  of  flight.     Few 


persons  in  the  direct  course  of  the  fire 
thought  about  saving  anything  but  their 
lives  and  those  of  their  families,  such  were 
the  speed,  and  power,  and  omnipresence  of 
the  destroyer.  Having  reached  Chicago 
avenue,  the  conflagration  took  an  eastward 
turn,  and  cut  off  from  flight  northward  all 
who  remained  in  the  unburned  section  ly- 
ing between  Dearborn  street  and  the  lake. 
The  inhabitants  of  that  district  flattered 
themselves  that  their  homes  might  escape 
the  general  destruction.  But  the  gale 
changed  its  course  in  a  few  minutes  more 
toward  the  east,  and  the  entire  quarter  of 
the  city  specified  became  a  frightful  pen, 
having  a  wall  of  fire  on  three  sides  and  the 
fierce  rolling  lake  on  the  other. 

And  now  a  scene  transpired,  which,  as 
described,  was  scarcely  ever  equaled. 
The  houses  were  abandoned  in  all  haste. 
Into  wagons  were  thrown  furniture,  cloth- 
ing, and  bedding.  Mothers  caught  up 
their  infants  in  their  arms.  Men  dragged 
along  the  aged  and  helpless,  and  the  en- 
tire horror-stricken  multitude  beat  their 
course  to  the  sands.  It  was  a  hegira 
never  to  be  forgotten. 

Even  the  homes  of  the  dead  were  sought 
for  as  food  by  the  all-devouring  element ; 
for,  after  ravaging  to  the  limits  of  the 
city,  and  with  the  wind  dead  against  it, 
the  fire  caught  the  dried  grasses,  ran  along 
the  fences,  and  in  a  moment  covered  in  a 
burning  glory  the  Catholic  cemetery  and 
the  grassy  stretches  of  Lincoln  park. 
The  marbles  over  the  graves  cracked  and 
baked,  and  fell  in  glowing  embers  on  the 
hot  turf.  Flames  shot  up  from  the  rest- 
ing places  of  the  dead,  and  the  living  fugi- 
tives, screaming  with  terror,  made,  for  a 
moment,  one  of  the  ghastliest  spectacles 
ever  beheld.  The  receiving-vault,  solidly 
built,  and  shrouded  by  foliage,  fell  under 
the  terrific  flame,  and  the  corpses  dropped 
or  burst  from  the  coffins,  as  the  fire  tore 
through  the  walls  of  the  frightful  charnel- 
house. 

On  the  fire  obtaining  strong  and  over- 
powering headway,  the  flames  seemed  to 
go  in  all  directions ;  in  some  places,  like 
huge  waves,  dashing  to  and  fro,  leaping 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


927 


up  and  down,  turning  and  twisting,  and 
pouring,  now  and  then,  a  vast  column  of 
smoke  and  blaze  hundreds  of  feet  into  the 
air,  like  a  solid,  perpendicular  shaft  of 
molten  metal.  In  other  places,  it  would 
dart  out  long  streaks  or  serpentine  shapes, 
which  swooped  down  over  the  blazing  path 
into  some  of  the  yet  unburnt  buildings, 
which  seemed  pierced,  and  kindled  instan- 
taneously. There  were  also  billows  of 
flame,  that  rolled  along  like  water,  utterly 
submerging  everything  in  their  course. 
Here  and  there,  when  some  lofty  building 
became  sheeted  in  flame,  the  walls  would 
weaken  and  waver  like  india-rubber ;  they 
sometimes  swayed  almost  across  the  street, 
and  immediately  fell  with  a  direful  crash  ; 
a  momentary  darkness  followed,  and  then 
fresh  glares  of  light  from  a  newly  kindled 
fire.  The  kerosene-oil  stores  made  an 
awful  but  sublime  display,  as  the  tower- 
ing flames  rolled  aloft,  seeming  to  pene- 
trate the  very  heavens. 

The  huge  iron  reservoir  of  the  gas-works 
exploded  with  tremendous  force  and  sound, 
demolishing  the  adjacent  buildings,  and 
the  very  earth  seemed  actually  belching 
out  fire.  The  walls  of  white  marble,  the 
buff  limestone  of  Illinois,  the  red  and  olive 
sandstones  of  Ohio  and  Marquette,  the 
speckled  granite  of  Minnesota,  and  the  blue 
Lockport  limestone  of  New  York,  all  ap- 
peared to  suffer  about  alike  in  the  ravag- 
ing element.  Everything  the  power  of 
wind  and  flame  could  level  met  that  doom  ; 
everything  it  could  lift  was  swept  away. 
The  furious  fire  consumed  its  own  smoke, 
leaving  but  few  traces  of  stain  upon  the 
bare  standing  walls. 

In  a  comparatively  short  space  of  time, 
nearly  all  the  public  buildings  were  either 
consumed  or  in  flames, — hotels,  theaters, 
churches,  court-house,  railway  depots, 
banks,  water-works,  gas-works,  and  thou- 
sands of  dwellings,  stores,  warehouses,  and 
manufactories,  with  all  their  vast  and  val- 
uable contents,  were  whelmed  in  one  com- 
mon vortex  of  ruin.  The  fire  enecines 
were  powerless.  The  streams  of  water 
appeared  to  dry  up  the  moment  they 
touched   the   flames.      An    attempt    was 


made  to  blow  up  the  buildings,  but  this 
availed  little,  the  high  wind  currying  the 
flaming  brands  far  across  the  space  thus 
cleared  away.  To  add  to  the  horrors  of 
the  scene,  the  wooden  pavements  in  some 
places  took  fire,  driving  the  firemen  from 
stations  where  their  precious  efforts  might 
possibly  have  been  available.  But  noth- 
ing could  long  resist  the  terrible  heat  of 
the  flames,  which  seemed  to  strike  right 
through  the  most  solid  walls.  Buildings 
supposed  to  be  absolutely  fire-proof  burned 
like  tinder,  and  crumbled  to  pieces  like 
charred  paper.  Engines  and  fire-appa- 
ratus had  arrived  from  seven  different 
States,  and  the  working  force  was  prodig- 
ioi;s,  but  all  this  was  of  no  avail. 

According  to  the  most  reliable  estimate, 
the  number  of  acres  burned  over  in  the 
West  Division  of  the  city,  where  the  fire 
originated,  was  nearly  two  hundred,  in- 
cluding sixteen  acres  which  were  laid  bare 
by  the  fire  of  the  previous  evening.  This 
district  contained  about  five  hundred  build- 
ings, averaging  four  or  five  occupants  each. 
These  buildings  were  generally  of  the 
poorer  class,  and  comprised  a  great  many 
boarding-houses,  saloons,  and  minor  hotels, 
with  a  few  factories,  also  several  lumber 
and  coal  yards  and  planing  mills,  a  grain 
elevator,  and  a  dei)ot. 

In  the  Pouth  Division,  the  burned  area 
comprised  some  four  hundred  and  sixty 
acres.  With  the  exception  of  the  Lind 
block,  on  the  river  bank,  between  Ran- 
dolph and  Lake  streets,  it  included  all 
north  of  an  irregular  line  running  diago- 
nally from  the  intersection  of  Polk  street 
with  the  river,  to  the  corner  of  Congress 
street  and  Michigan  avenue.  This  dis- 
trict, though  comparatively  small  in  ex- 
tent, was  by  far  the  most  valuable  in  the 
city, — the  very  heart  and  head  of  Chicago 
as  a  commercial  center.  It  contained  the 
great  majority  of  all  those  structures 
which  were  at  once  costly  in  themselves, 
and  filled  with  the  wealth  of  merchandise 
that  made  the  city  the  great  emporium  of 
the  North-west.  All  the  wholesale  stores 
of  anj'  considerable  magnitude,  all  the 
daily  and  weekly  newspaper  offices^  all  the 


928 


OUE  FIRST  CENTUEY.— 1776-1876. 


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ilv'-<*;!rji^^ 


i(|!Pn'f'',|/fi; 

mmUkwmM 

wMmm 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


929 


principal  banks,  the  leading  hotels,  many 
extensive  factories,  all  the  offices  of  insur- 
ance men,  lawyers,  produce  brokers,  etc., 
the  custom-house,  court-house,  chamber  of 
commerce,  all  the  prominent  public  halls 
and  places  of  amusement,  many  coal  j^ards, 
the  monster  Central  railroad  depot,  with 
its  various  buildings  for  the  transaction  of 
business  of  the  Illinois  Central,  Michigan 
Central,  and  Chicago,  Burlington  and 
Quincy  railroads,  &c.,  &c.  There  were 
nearly  thirty-seven  hundred  buildings  de- 
stroyed in  this  division,  including  sixteen 
hundred  stores,  twenty-eight  hotels,  sixty 
manufacturing  establishments,  and  the 
homes  of  about  twenty-two  thousand 
people. 

In  the  North  Division,  the  flames  swept 
nearly  fifteen  hundred  acres,  destroying 
thirteen  thousand  three  hundred  buildings, 
the  homes  of  nearly  seventy-five  thousand 
people.  Tliese  structures  included  more 
than  six  hundred  stores  and  one  hundred 
manufacturing  establishments,  including 
McCormick's  reaper  factory,  a  sugar  refin- 
ery, box  mills,  etc.  The  lake  shore,  from 
Chicago  avenue  north,  was  lined  with 
breweries.  The  river  banks  were  piled 
high  with  lumber  and  coal,  three  grain 
elevators  stood  near  the  fork  of  the  river, 
and  near  them  the  Galena  depot.  Many 
hotels,  and  private  storehouses  for  produce 
and  other  property,  also  existed  in  this 
neighborhood,  and  the  wholesale  meat 
markets  on  Kinzie  street  were  a  busy  cen- 
ter of  trade.  North  Clark,  Wells,  and 
North  and  Chicago  avenues,  were  princi- 
pally occupied  by  retail  stores. 

The  total  area  burned  over  was  two 
thousand  one  hundred  and  twenty-four 
acres,  or  almost  three  and  one-third  square 
miles.  This  area  contained  about  seventy- 
three  miles  of  streets,  and  seventeen  thou- 
sand four  hundred  and  fifty  buildings,  the 
homes  of  nearly  one  hundred  thousand 
people.  All  this  transpired  in  the  brief 
space  of  thirty  hours,  and  the  aggregate 
loss  was  not  far  from  $200,000,000.  But 
saddest  of  all  was  the  great  loss  of  life,  the 
precise  extent  of  which  will  probably 
never  be  known. 

59 


For  a  city  thus  suddenly  and  tragically 
overwhelmed  in  ruin,  the  sympathies  of  the 
whole  civilized  world  were  spontaneously 
poured  forth,  and,  in  response  to  the  cry  for 
help  that  went  up  from  her  borders,  instant 
and  abundant   relief  was  sent  from  every 
part  of  the  Union.     The  national  govern- 
ment, at  the  instance  of  Lieut.  Gen,  Sher- 
idan,— whose   activity  in  endeavoring  to 
stay  the  progress  of  the  conflagration,  and, 
subsequently,  in  preserving  order,  was  so 
conspicuous, — sent  thousands  of  tents  and 
army  rations  ;  societies  and  private  citi- 
zens   sent   money,    clothing,    and   provis- 
ions ;  railroad  companies  dispatched  spe- 
cial trains  laden  with  these  gifts;  and  in 
every  city  and  town,  public  meetings  v.ere 
held,  and  money  raised  to  aid  the  homeless 
and  suffering.     From  Canada  and  Europe, 
too,    came    assurances   of    s^'mpathy   and 
proffers  of  assistance.     The  total  value  of 
the  charities  thus  bestowed,  in  provisions, 
clothing,  and  monej-,  amounted  to  millions 
of   dollars,    all  of   which  was  distributed 
with   such  promptness  and  wisdom  that 
despair  was  forestalled,  epidemic  disease 
prevented,  and  hope  kindled  in  the  hearts 
of  all. 

To  narrate  more  than  a  few  of  the  many 
instances  of  heroism,  affection,  tragedy 
and  crime,  incident  to  a  disaster  so  wide- 
spread and  awful,  would  be  simply  impossi- 
ble. Gangs  of  armed  ruffians  were  every- 
where patrolling  about,  hunting  for  plunder, 
and  breaking  into  safes  with  impunity, — 
remonstrance  was  met  with  a  deadly  blow, 
and  few  had  the  temerity  to  interfere. 
Heated  with  whiskey  and  excitement,  they 
caused  a  complete  reign  of  terror,  and, 
though  the  mayor  had  issued  a  proclama- 
tion directing  the  closing  of  the  saloons, 
no  attention  was  paid  to  it,  and  the  disor- 
derly element  had  its  own  sway. 

In  Wabash  and  Michigan  avenues,  and, 
indeed,  in  all  the  places  where  the  richer 
classes  lived,  the  scenes  enacted  were  un- 
paralleled. Women  who  had  never  known 
what  a  care  was,  and  consequently  were, 
as  would  be  supposed,  utterly  incapable  of 
bearing  with  courage  such  a  calamity  as 
the  destruction  of  their  homes,  displayed 


930 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


instances  of  heroism  and  love  worthy  to 
be  written  of  in  story  and  song.  Thus,  a 
prominent  lady  of  Wabash  avenue  had 
been  deserted  by  her  servants  as  soon  as 
it  became  certain  that  the  house  was 
doomed  ;  they  went  off,  taking  with  them 
whatever  they  could  lay  their  hands  on. 
She,  her  daughter,  and  her  invalid  hus- 
band, were  alone  in  the  house,  and  the 
flames  were  rapidly  approaching.  There 
was  not  a  moment  to  spare,  and  the  two 
women  carried  away  in  their  arms  the 
sick  man,  and  brought  him  in  safety  be- 
yond the  reach  of  the  fire. 

The  most  pitiable  sights  were  the  sick 
children,  half  dead,  lying  crouched  on  the 
sidewalks,  in  many  cases  with  barely  any 
covering  on  them.  A  pathetic  scene 
was  noticed  on  the  corner  of  La  Salle 
and  Randolph  streets,  where  two  little 
girls  were  lying,  terror-stricken,  by  the 
side  of  their  dead  sister,  whose  re- 
mains presented  a  harrowing  spectacle. 
She  had  been  too  late  to  escape  from 
under  a  falling  building  on  Clark  street, 
and  had  then  been  extricated  and  borne 
away  to  the  corner  by  her  almost  perish- 
ing sisters. 

The  preservation  of  Mr.  Ogden's  resi- 
dence, solitary  and  alone,  in  the  very  heart 
of  the  fire,  was  one  of  the  most  memorable 
incidents  in  the  history  of  this  great  dis- 
aster. The  happy  result  in  this  case  was 
accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  the  house, 
a  large  and  comfortable  frame  structure, 
was  in  the  middle  of  a  block,  all  the  other 
lots  of  which  formed  its  elegant  garden. 
On  the  streets  upon  its  four  sides  were  not 
many  large  buildings;  while  just  as  the 
fire  approached  it  from  the  south-west 
there  was  a  slight  lull  in  the  fury  of  the 


wind.  This  allowed  the  flames  to  shoot 
straighter  into  the  air,  and,  before  the 
fiery  tempest  had  again  bent  them  forward 
in  search  of  further  fuel,  the  structures 
upon  which  they  were  immediately  feed- 
ing had  been  reduced  to  ashes,  and  a  break 
made  in  the  terrible  wall  of  fire.  The 
exertions  of  Mr.  Ogden  and  his  family,  in 
covering  the  roof  and  walls  of  the  house 
with  carpets,  quilts,  and  blankets,  which 
were  kept  constantly  wet  with  water  from 
a  cistern  which  happened  to  be  in  his  place, 
also  aided  materially  in  the  saving  of  their 
home,  which  was  the  only  unharmed  build- 
ing for  miles ! 

One  of  the  most  notable  events  was  the 
fate  of  the  Tribune  building,  erected  at 
great  cost,  and,  as  it  was  supposed,  with 
undoubted  fire-proof  qualities.  A  wide 
space  had  been  burned  around  it,  and  its 
safety  was  thought  to  be  assured.  A  pa- 
trol of  men  swept  off  live  coals  and  put 
out  fires  in  the  side  walls,  and  another 
patrol  watched  the  roofs.  Up  to  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  reporters  had 
sent  in  detailed  accounts  of  the  fire.  At 
five  o'clock  the  forms  were  sent  down. 
In  ten  minutes  the  two  eight-cylinders  in 
the  press-room  would  have  been  throwing 
off  the  morning  paper.  Then  the  front 
basement  was  discovered  to  be  on  fire. 
The  plug  on  the  corner  was  tapped,  but 
there  was  no  water.  The  pressmen  were 
driven  from  their  presses.  The  attaches 
of  the  establishment  said  good-bye  to  the 
finest  newspaper  office  in  the  western 
country,  and  withdrew  to  a  place  of 
safety.  In  a  very  short  time  the  building 
was  enveloped  in  fire,  and  by  ten  o'clock 
the  whole  magnificent  structure  was  a  mass 
of  blackened  ruins. 


CYIII. 

TERRIBLE  FIRE  IN  THE  BUSINESS  HEART  OF 

BOSTON.— 1872. 


It  Rages  Fiercely,  Night  and  Day,  and  Consumes  the  Widest  and  Nfost  Mapnifieent  Area  of  Solid 
Granite  Warehouses  on  tlie  Continent — Some  Sixty -five  Acres  of  these  Massive  and  Apparently 
Indestructible  Commercial  PaUces  Crumble  Like  Ciialk  in  the  Intense  Heat  —  The  Great  Financial 
and  Commercial  Center  of  New  England  Destroyed  — Surprising  Character  of  tiiis  Fire — Compari- 
son with  that  of  Chicago  — No  Gale  :  Moderate  Weather — Strange  liapidity  of  the  Flames  — Tiiey 
Spread  in  all  Directions — Triumphant  Sweep  from  Block  to  Block. — Thoroughness  of  the  Destruc- 
tion.— Iron  and  Stone  No  Barriers. — Difficulties  of  the  Situation. — Great  Height  of  the  Stores  — 
Narrowness  of  the  Streets — Trinity  Church  in  Kuins — Blowing  up  with  Gunpowder. — Grand  and 
Terrible  Scenes. — Narrow  Escape  of  the  "  Old  South." — State  Street  and  Its  Treasures  Reacheil. — 
Victory  at  Last  by  the  Firemen. —  I'eril,  Bravery,  Death. —  A  Whole  City  in  Darkness.— Some  Eight 
Hundred  Buildings  Burned. — Trades  that  S[)ecially  Suffered — Loss  About  §86,000,000. 


"In  re<1  nnd  wreathinj;  columns  flashed 
Tile  fljtnc,  lis  loud  tin-  ixiin  criifiied. 
And  here  Htid  thfe  Ihe  crai'ktint:  donae 
Wtts  fired  btfoie  the  explodiug  bomb." 


^gf^g=^^  A  T  about  seven  o'clock,  Saturday  evening,  November 
ninth,  1872,  a  fire  commenced  in  Boston,  Mass., 
which  proved  to  be,  next  to  tliat  of  Chicago,  the. 
most  extensive  and  disastrous  in  American  liistory. 
Indeed,  it  was  even  more  surprising  in  its  character 
than  tlie  Ciiicago  conflagration — in  the  fact  that, 
^^^^^^  with  no  gale  prevailing  at  the  time,  and  in  moderate 
weather,  there  could  be  such  rapid,  complete,  and 
almost  uncontrollable  destruction  of  the  most  solid 
and,  apparentlj",  most  fire-proof  buildings,  streets 
and  sections,  to  be  found  in  an}-  part  of  the  world. 
That  rich  and  magnificent  portion  of  the  city 
bounded  by  Washington,  Summer,  Bedford,  Water 
and  Oliver  streets,  and  the  water  of  the  liarboi",  was 
nearly  swept  over  by  the  devouring  element,  and,  in 
a  brief  space  of  time,  the  solid  gi'anite  blocks  of 
Summer,  Franklin,  Milk,  Congress,  Federal  and 
Devonshire  streets,  were  but  a  mass  of  ruins. 
Wasliington  street  was  burned  on  one  side  from 
Summer  to  Water  street ;  the  fire  crept  nearly  up  to 
TRINITY  CHURCH,  BOSTON,  L.KSTKovED.  State  strect,  destro^'iug  in  part  the  post-office  and 
Merchants'  Exchange  building,  as  it  had  previously  damaged,  to  some  extent,  the  walls 


932 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


of  the  new  post-oflfice  structure ;  and  it 
took  in,  in  its  wide  and  destructive  course, 
most  especially  the  streets  and  blocks 
occupied  by  the  wholesale  general  dry 
goods  trade,  the  shoe  and  leather  trade, 
and  the  wool  business  of  the  city. 

The  fire  broke  out  in  a  large  four-story 
granite  store  on  the  corner  of  Summer  and 
Kingston  streets,  the  building  being  sur- 
mounted with  a  high  Mansard  roof,  over- 
topping everything  else  in  that  immediate 
vicinity.  Directly  as  the  flames  began  to 
spread  through  the  story  beneath  this 
roof,  and  before  engines  or  hose-carriages 
were  on  the  ground,  great  volumes  sud- 
denly burst  forth  from  the  rear  of  the 
other  stories  of  the  building,  and,  in 
less  than  twenty  minutes,  the  whole  broad 
facade  extending  along  Kingston  street 
was  one  sheet  of  flames,  as  was  also  at  the 
same  time  the  Summer  street  front,  the 
heat  being  so  intense  as  to  force  the  fire- 
men away. 

By  this  time  a  strong  breeze  had  come 
up,  —  or  rather,  the  vast  and  powerful 
flames  jnade  their  own  current  of  air  and 
followed  that,  now  to  one  side,  now  to  the 
other,  following  no  particular  path,  and 
spreading  with  unaccountable  rapidity, 
communicating  in  a  short  time  to  the 
buildings  on  the  opposite  corner  of  Kings- 
ton and  Summer  streets,  as  well  as  the 
block  on  Summer  and  Otis  streets.  In 
less  than  half  an  hour  thereafter,  the 
flames  were  bursting  out  of  all  the  adjoin- 
ing roofs,  and  all  up  and  down  the  broad- 
sides of  these  immense  structures, — sweep- 
ing triumphantly  from  story  to  story,  from 
roof  to  roof,  from  blo(;k  to  block,  from 
corner  to  corner,  of  street  after  street. 
"Whatever  the  flames  reached  they  rapidly 
consumed,  melting  granite  walls,  and 
crisping  and  crackling  iron  doors  and 
shutters  as  though  they  were  but  lead. 
The  great  height  of  these  warehouses  and 
the  narrowness  of  the  streets  proved  seri- 
ous difficulties.  In  hardly  any  case  could 
a  stream  of  water  be  thrown  upon  the 
ba(;k  part  of  the  roofs,  and  it  was  on  the 
roofs  that,  after  the  first  outbreak,  the  fire 
almost  invariably  caught ;  nor  was  it  pos- 


sible to  approach  in  those  streets  —  or 
lanes — ver^'  near  the  buildings.  The  fire- 
men struggled  heroically,  but  in  vain ; 
they  put  uj)  barricades  for  their  protection, 
but  the  barricades  were  soon  consumed ; 
they  carried  hose  up  to  the  very  roofs,  but 
the  height  was  so  great  that  very  little 
water  could  be  forced  throucrh  them.  So 
terribly  intense,  too,  was  the  heat,  after  a 
while,  that  it  passed  through  the  brick 
walls  of  adjoining  buildings  and  the  fronts 
of  Avarehouses  on  the  opposite  sides  of  the 
streets,  igniting  and  consuming  the  latter 
without  any  direct  contact  with  flame. 

This  phenomenon  of  terrible  heat  was  a 
repetition  of  the  experience  of  Chicago,  as 
Avas  also  the  fate  of  those  buildings  Avhich 
were  considered,  in  a  peculiar  sense,  fire- 
proof. Iron  and  stone  alike  yielded  like 
j)ine  to  the  destroyer.  Walls  whirh  might 
almost  have  defied  heavy  artillery  Avere 
quickly  penetrated  by  the  fierce  element, 
and,  in  a  Avonderful  manner,  crumbled  like 
chalk,  the  Avhole  mass  falling  in  small 
pieces,  —  the  solid  Avindow-caps,  stately 
croAvning  stones,  and  broad  and  massiA'e 
sections,  indiscriminately ;  and  it  Avas 
noticeable  that,  in  nearly  every  instance, 
the  Avails  left  standing  Avere  of  brick. 
Another  peculiar  feature  Avas  the  almost 
total  consumption  of  the  contents  of  the 
buildings,  there  being  com])aratively  feAV 
charred  timbers  piled  among  the  ruins  of 
stone  and  masonry,  and  but  few  merely 
damaged  or  half-burned  goods.  Every- 
thing that  was  combustible  was  consumed, 
so  overmastering  Avas  the  intensity  and 
force  of  the  heat,  —  a  fact  Avhich  none 
knew  better  than  the  brave-hearted  fire- 
men, Avho  pertinaciously  battled  the  fiery 
fiend  all  through  the  night  of  Saturda}', 
and  until  long  after  Sunday's  sun  had 
passed  his  meridian.  Many  faced  the 
heat  until  their  exposed  flesh  was  sadly 
blistered. 

At  about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
the  ra])id  reports  of  gunpowder  exjjlosions 
indicated  that  buildings  Avere  being  sub- 
jected to  the  fuse,  as  a  last  effort  to  saA-e 
the  cit}''  from  the  flames.  One  of  these 
attempts  Avas  made  Avith  a  massi\'e  block 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


933 


on  Devonshire  street.  The  buildings  were 
thrown  partially  down,  but  not  sufficiently 
so  to  bar  or  break  the  onward  march  of 
the  sheet  of  blaze,  which  at  once,  like  a 
demon,  leaped  over  the  gap  and  seized 
upon  the  adjoining  stores.  Buildings  at 
some  distance  from  the  flames  were  then 
selected  for  gunpowder  operations,  it  being 
evident  that  it  was  useless  to  blow  up  any 
situated  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the 
fire.  The  explosions,  following  each  other 
rapidly,  shook  the  city  to  its  foundations, 
and,  being  added  to  the  hoarse  roar  of  the 
flames,  the  crackling  sound  of  bursting 
granite,  and  the  air  filled  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach  with  fiery  sparks,  produced  a 
scene  at  once  grand  and  terrible. 

Thus,  unchecked,  the  conflagration  from 
its  first  start  swept  with  unconquerable 
sway.  Erom  the  fatal  corner  where  it 
commenced,  it  traveled  simultaneously  in 
all  directions.  Southward  it  burned  about 
half  a  block.  Eastward  it  took  both  sides 
of  Summer  street,  passed  Arch,  Chauncey, 
and  Hawley,  and  thence  ran  diagonally  to 
to  the  north-east  corner  of  Summer  and 
Washington  streets,  sparing  one  solitary 
building  there,  but  taking  everything  at 
the  rear  and  side  of  it.  Thence  it  ran 
along  the  east  side  of  Washington  street, 
as  far  north  as  IMilk,  and  within  a  very 
short  distance  of  School  street  and  the 
City  Hall.  From  Kingston  street,  east 
and  west,  the  fire  took  both  sides  of  Sum- 
mer and  Bedford  streets,  and  never  stop- 
ped until  it  reached  the  water,  destroying 
the  wharves  and  depot  of  the  Hartford 
and  Erie  railroad.  Meanwhile  it  liad 
careered  northward,  along  Devonshire,  Fed- 
eral, and  Congress  streets,  toward  the 
water ;  and  here  were  some  tenement 
houses,  liquor  shops,  and  other  buildings 
of  the  poorer  class,  and  before  midnight 
the  wretched  occupants  were  turned  into 
the  street.  The  general  path  of  the  flames 
at  this  time  was  north-west,  and  from  about 
Congress  street  to  Washington,  it  formed 
an  impassable  barrier,  moving  up  closer 
and  closer  toward  State  street,  the  great 
financial  center  of  New  England.  Milk 
and  Pearl  streets  fell  a  rich  prey  to  the 


destroyer,  and  toward  morning  the  rear  of 
the  post-office  was  reached.  The  mails 
were  removed  to  the  Custom  House,  and 
thence  to  Faneuil  Hall,  where  the  regular 
mail  arrangements  were  duly  established, 
nothing  having  been  lost.  The  progress 
of  the  flames  was  stayed  at  the  rear  of  the 
Merchants'  Exchange,  thus  saving  the  vast 
treasures  of  State  street. 

Two  currents  of  flame,  one  sweeping 
northward  from  Franklin  street,  the  other 
westward  along  Milk  street,  encountered 
one  of  the  most  renowned  historical  build- 
ings in  Boston,  the  Old  South  Church.  For 
a  long  time  it  was  feared  that  this  vener- 
ated landmark  was  doomed  to  destruction, 
and  this  apprehension  was  by  no  means  les- 
sened when  the  flames  were  seen  dancing 
upon  the  tall  roof  of  the  Daily  Transcript 
building,  only  the  width  of  a  narrow  street 
and  lot  to  the  west.  Its  tall  white  steeple, 
surmounted  by  a  shining  vane  and  globe, 
stood  transfigured  in  the  glowing  light  of 
the  conflagration  from  early  evening  until 
the  next  morning,  and  as  hour  after  hour 
was  solemnly  tolled  from  its  belfry,  many 
persons  indulged  in  such  remarks  as, 
"  That  is  the  last  time  the  Old  South  will 
tell  the  hour  of  da}',"  or,  '"I  can  say  I 
heard  the  Old  South  strike  for  the  last 
time,"  etc.  But,  though  Trinity  church, 
on  Summer  street,  with  its  massive  walls 
of  unhewn  granite,  was  laid  in  ruins,  the 
Old  South,  a  brick  building  with  consider- 
able wood  in  combination,  was  spared. 
Save  a  few  broken  windows  and  a  little 
blistered  paint,  the  grand  old  edifice  was 
unharmed.  The  beautiful  Transcript  build- 
ing, although  it  finall}'  succumbed,  stood 
out  long  enough  to  give  the  firemen  the 
reins  of  the  unruly  element  in  that  direc- 
tion. 

The  scenes  which  accompanied  this  sud- 
den, furious,  and  wide-spread  disaster,  can 
only  be  faintly  depicted.  Men  with 
ledgers  and  account  books  of  ever}'  descrip- 
tion, and  which  contained  the  records  of 
immense  business  transactions,  were  hur- 
rying with  them  through  the  streets,  anx- 
ious to  convey  them  to  some  place  as  far 
out  of  the   reach  of  the  fire  as  possible  ; 


934 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


TERRIBLE  FIRK   IX  THE   BUSINESS   HEART  OF  BOSTON, 
N(jVEMBER  9  AND    10,  1872. 

job  teams  and  every  other  kind  of  vehicle, 
loaded  down  with  valuables,  crowded  the 
thoroughfares  ;  the  Common  was  used  as  a 
repository  by  those  who  could  find  no 
covered  shelter  for  their  effects,  and  all 
along  the  Tremont-street  mall,  from  Park 
to  Boylston  street,  goods  in  bales  and 
boxes,  packages,  large  and  small,  dry 
goods,  leather  goods,  bed-ticks,  and  house- 
hold furniture,  were  heaped  in  large 
stacks,  and  determined  men  with  sticks  or 
clubs  guarded  them  from  the  incursions 
of  numberless  thieves,  who,  like  birds  of 
prey,  hovered  about  at  every  turn.  With 
all  the  precaution  exercised  throughout 
the  city,  with  reference  to  this  danger,  ar- 
rests by  the  police  became  so  numerous, 
tnat  it  was  found  imnossible  to  accommo- 


ate  all  the  prisoners,  and  con- 
sequently many  of  them  had  to 
be  discharged  from  custodj-. 
That   some  lives    were   lost,  during  so 
many  hours  of  devastation,  ruin,  and  ter- 
ror, is  not  surprising,  and  it  even  appears 
S  remarkable    that  the   number    should  fall 
;■  something  short  of  a  score.     Among  these 
were  instances  peculiarly  harrowing  and 
tragical.       While  the  fire  was    raging  in 
the  drug  store  of  Weeks  &   Potter,  Sun- 
day morning,  two  men  were  struck  down 
while  endeavoring  to  save  stock,  bj'  the  fall- 
ing of  a  portion  of  the  wall.     One  of  them 
was  totally  buried,  but  the  other  was  caught 
by    the    legs, — and,  shouting    for    succor, 
said    that    if    his  legs  were  extricated  he 
could  get  out  easily.     Several  brave  fire- 
men responded  by  darling  intrepidly  into 
the    doomed    building,   the    front    wall    of 
which  was  even  then  tottering,  and  mak- 
ing frantic  efforts  to  release  the  poor  suf- 
ferer.     Suddenly    thej'  were  startled   by 
the  cry  that  the  massive  front  wall  was 
going  over.     There  was  a  desperate  rush 
for    life,  and    a    silent    horror  seized    the 
s])ectators  as  the  wall  fell  with  a  thunder- 
ing crash  and  it  seemed  that  two  of  the 
brave  firemen  had  shared  the  fate  of  those 
whom  they  had   so   nobly  tried  to  save. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


935 


Nor  was  this  an  exceptional  example, 
merely,  of  tlie  courageous  conduct  of  Bos- 
ton firemen  during  those  days  of  terror. 

One  of  the  most  thrilling  incidents  oc- 
curred on  Saturday  night,  in  one  of  the 
extensive  dry  goods  warehouses  on  Win- 
throp  Square.  The  store  had  been  closed, 
and  six  young  men,  whose  duty  it  was  to 
clear  up  the  basement  and  shut  off  the  gas, 
were  thus  emploj-ed,  when,  unknown  to 
them,  some  one  left  the  store  and  locked 
the  door.  As  the  fire  made  headway,  and 
burst  into  the  upper  stories  of  the  block, 
the  young  men  made  a  rusli  for  the  door, 
which,  to  their  surprise  and  terror  they 
found  secured.  They  sliouted  for  help, 
but  none  came ;  they  pounded  the  door 
and  struggled  to  break  it  down,  but  in 
vain ;  the  fire  had  enveloped  the  several 
stories,  and  the  clerks  were  iu  despair, 
when,  fortunately,  the  door  was  burst 
open  by  the  firemen,  and  the  clerks  es- 
caped a  horrible  death. 

The  light  of  the  great  conflagration  was 
visible  scores  of  miles  distant.  Cinders, 
pieces  of  newspapers,  bills,  dry  goods,  etc., 
were  found  in  Hingham  and  adjoining 
towns,  and  even  as  far  as  West  Scituate 
— twenty  miles  from  Boston, — pieces  of 
charred  goods,  silks  and  woolens,  paper, 
freight  bills,  etc.,  were  found  in  the  roads 
and  fields  ;  and  at  one  time,  on  Saturday 
night,  looking  from  South  Hingham  to- 
ward Boston,  the  air  seemed  filled  with 
fiery  cinders.  At  West  Scituate  a  govern- 
ment bond  was  found,  the  edges  of  which 
had  been  burned,  and  in  the  adjoining 
town  of  Hingham  a  fragment  of  a  ten 
dollar  bill  was  picked  up,  also  leaves  of 
hymn  books,  bibles,  etc. 

The  scene  on  Tuesday,  after  the  fire, 
was  such  as  had  never  before  been  wit- 
nessed in  Boston.  Many  of  the  streets 
were  so  completely  filled  with  rubbish  of 
the  fallen  walls  as  actually  to  be  quite 
undistinguishable ;  and,  in  all  of  them,  it 
was  necessary  for  the  explorer  to  pick  his 
way  over  smoking  heaps  of  debris  that  lay 
piled  across,  many  feet  deep.  The  effect 
of  the  heat  on  the  facades  of  the  granite 
structures  was  peculiar.     In  almost  every 


case,  thin,  platter-like  disks  had  flaked  off 
from  the  blocks,  leaving  the  latter  shape- 
less and  useless,  yet  nearly  always  ap- 
proaching a  boulder-like  form.  On  Pearl 
street,  the  pavement  was  covered,  about  a 
couple  of  inches  deep,  with  powdered 
granite,  which  resembled  coarse  granite, 
few  of  the  pieces  being  larger  than  a  bean  ; 
and  the  passer  who  stepped  off  the  bould- 
ers, on  which  he  picked  his  way,  into  this 
pulverized  mass,  felt  it  slide  and  roll 
Ujider  his  feet,  in  the  same  manner  as 
gravel.  On  this  same  street,  also,  on 
which  not  a  single  building  was  spared,  a 
curious  appearance  was  presented  by  the 
remains  of  the  front  walls.  Many  of  them 
had  fallen  down  to  about  the  middle  of 
the  lower  story,  just  leaving  enough  of  the 
pillars  beside  the  doors  to  fully  display 
the  signs,  showing  the  names  and  busi- 
ness of  the  recent  occupants.  In  some 
instances  the  lower  story  of  the  front 
appeared  as  if  completely  untouched, 
though  behind  there  was  only  a  smoulder- 
ing jiile  of  brick.  On  the  docks,  thou- 
sands of  tons  of  coal  were  burning,  and 
half-a-dozen  steamers  were  busy,  day  and 
night,  playing  on  them,  but  with  slow 
effect. 

Owing  to  the  exhaustion  of  the  gas 
supply,  caused  by  copious  leaks  in  numer- 
ous sections  of  the  city, — the  fire  having 
prevented  access  to  the  various  stop-cocks 
designed  to  shut  off  the  supply  from  the 
several  districts  in  just  such  an  emergency 
as  this, — darkness  for  one  night,  at  least, 
was  relieved  only  by  such  means  as  could, 
hastily  be  improvised.  Not  a  few  house- 
keepers found  it  difficult  to  procure  light 
at  all,  as  the  stock  of  candles  in  nearly  all 
the  retail  groceries  about  town  was  early 
taken  up.  The  dealers  in  kerosene  oil 
and  lamps  also  did  a  large  business. 
Without  gas,  the  streets  presented  a  for- 
lorn and  desolate  appearance  indeed,  and 
the  few  persons  abroad  moved  with  cau- 
tious steps.  Stores  generally  brilliant 
with  light  in  the  evening  were  dark  ;  and 
the  hotels,  usually  bright  and  inviting, 
were,  almost  literally,  enveloped  in  gloom. 
A  novel   spectacle,  truly,  was    that   pre- 


936 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


sented  by  the  boarders,  as  they  gathered  to 
read  the  evening  papers  ;  each  individual 
possessed  himself  of  a  wax,  or  sperm,  or  tal- 
low dip,  and  with  the  printed  sheet  in  one 
hand,  and  the  flickering  light  in  the  other, 
divided  his  attention  between  the  two. 

So  great  was  the  excitement  produced 
throughout  all  New  England,  as  well  as  in 
other  parts  of  the  country,  by  this  tragical 
and  overwhelming  calamity,  that  immense 
crowds  of  visitors  soon  crowded  the  city, 
causing  in  various  ways  extreme  incon- 
venience. At  no  time  during  either  of 
the  "  Peace  Jubilees  "  of  1869  and  1872, 
was  the  rolling  stock  of  the  different  rail- 
ways so  heavily  taxed.  Trains  of  unex- 
ampled length,  jammed  with  men,  women, 
and  children,  came  in  from  every  section 
at  early  day,  and  went  out  as  thronged  at 
dusk  and  in  the  evening.  One  train  of 
thirty  cars  on  the  Boston  and  Albany  rail- 
road reached  the  city  at  noon  from  way 
stations  beyond  Worcester,  completely 
filled,  notwithstanding  that  specials  and 
regulars  from  a  portion  of  the  same  section 
had  previously  been  run ;  and,  on  the 
other  lines,  the  passenger  freights  were 
nearly  or  quite  as  heavy.  By  some  means, 
not  a  few  of  these  visitors  got  within  the 
well  guarded  fire  limits  and  among  the 
ruins,  and  there,  with  small  scrip,  pur- 
chased of  prowling  urchins  who  had 
stormed  the  lines,  various  "relics"  of  the 
fire, — bits  of  crockery,  pieces  of  fantastic- 
ally twisted  iron,  etc. 

Curious  but  characteristic  was  the  fact 
that,  even  in  the  midst  of  the  ruins,  life 
and  energy  appeared,  with  scarcely  a  day's 
intervention,  for,  though  Boston  enter- 
prise had  received  the  heaviest  of  shocks, 
it  had  not  become  paralyzed.  Before  the 
huge  heaps  of  bricks  had  cooled,  and 
while  many  fires  were  smouldering  and 
crackling,  and  the  smoke  was  yet  thick 
and  stifling,  men  had  begun  the  work  of 
clearing  away  the  debris,  preparatory  to 
the  work  of  rebuilding.  So  complete, 
however,  had  been  the  work  of  destruc- 
tion, and  so  utterly  obliterated  were  the 
lines  of  old  familiar  thoroughfares,  that 
the  masters  and  workmen  alike  were  fre- 


quently bewildered,  and  citizens  clamber- 
ing over  the  piles  of  bricks  and  granite 
blocks  were  completely  lost  in  places  where, 
before  the  fire,  they  were  most  at  home. 
One  man  was  seen  wandering  around 
what  was  once  the  lower  part  of  Water 
street,  with  a  sign  announcing  the  changed 
location  of  the  Shawmut  Bank,  busily 
searching  for  the  site  of  its  building,  which 
in  fact  was  not  far  from  the  corner  of 
Congress,  and  a  prominent  shoe  dealer 
was  heard  arguing  that  Purchase  street, 
where  he  was  standing,  was  the  upper 
portion  of  Pearl. 

As  affecting  the  business  community, 
this  fire  was  one  of  the  most  disastrous 
ever  known,  and,  in  this  country,  second 
only  to  that  of  Chicago — the  greatest  on 
record.  While  but  few  dwellings  were 
burned  and  but  a  comparatively  small 
number  of  families  made  houseless,  the 
finest  warehouses  and  stores  in  the  city, 
and  indeed  in  the  whole  country, — the 
entire  space  occui^ied  by  the  wholesale  dry 
goods  dealers,  wool  merchants,  boot  and 
shoe  and  hide  and  leather  dealers,  and 
clothing  houses,  —  met  total  destruction. 
Not  a  wool  house  was  left  standing.  The 
whole  of  Pearl  and  High  streets,  which 
were  devoted  exclusively  to  the  boot,  shoe, 
and  leather  trade,  showed  simply  a  heap 
of  ruins.  Every  wholesale  clothing  house, 
with  a  single  exception,  was  burned,  and 
but  three  or  four  dry  goods  commission 
houses  were  left  standing, — so  complete, 
indeed,  was  the  destruction  of  the  latter 
class,  that  the  agent  of  the  largest  mill  in 
the  country  stated  that  but  one  out  of  all 
his  customers  in  the  city  had  a  place  left 
for  his  business.  The  fire  thus  burned 
over  the  widest  area  of  massive  and  appar- 
ently indestructible  commercial  ])alaces  in 
America.  The  estimated  total  loss  was 
about  eight-five  million  dollars.  Consid- 
ering the  small  extent  of  territorj'  covered 
— some  sixty-five  acres, — and  the  length 
of  time  the  fire  burned,  the  amount  of 
property  destroyed  was  unparalleled.  The 
number  of  buildings  consumed,  not  in- 
cluding those  slightly  damaged,  was  seven 
hundred  and  seventy-six,   of  which  only 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


937 


sixty-seven  were  of  wood.  Though,  most 
fortunately,  the  number  of  deaths  was 
much  less  than  might  have  been  expected, 
thousands  of  working  girls  and  men  were 
thrown  out  of  employment. 

The  expressions  of  sympathy  for  the 
devastated  city,  with  generous  proffers  of 
aid,  came  from  all  quarters.     Even  while 


the  flames  were  still  spreading,  measures 
of  relief  were  instituted  to  aid  the  necessi- 
tous ;  and,  upon  the  petition  of  the  city 
council,  the  governor  of  the  commonwealth 
called  a  special  session  of  the  legislature  to 
enact  measures  for  the  benefit  of  sufferers 
by  the  calamity,  and  to  prevent  the  recur- 
ronce  of  a  similar  disaster. 


CIX. 
THE  NATIONAL  GRANGE  MOVEMENT.— 18 T2. 


Popular  Organizations  in  the  Interests  of  Labor. — Changes  Sought  in  the  Relations  between  Producers 
and  Consumers — General  Declaration  of  Principles  and  Aims. — A  System  of  Universal  Co-operation 
Proposed — Results  to  be  Realized  by  such  Combinations — Patrons  of  Husbandry  and  Sovereigns  of 
Industry. — Initiative  Proceedings  in  1867. — First  Grange  Founded  in  Washington,  D.  C. — Agricul- 
ture tiie  Grand  Basis  — Mutual  Protection  and  Advancement. — Small  Encouragement  at  the  Begin- 
nine. — Immense  Growth  in  Five  Years. — Activity  in  the  West  and  South — Social  and  Moral  Aspects. 
— Plan  of  Business  Action. — Partism  Prejudices  Disavowed  — No  Political  Tests  Involved. — Opin- 
ions of  Eminent  Leaders  Cited. — Views  of  Foreign  Publicists  — Vital  Point  in  the  New  System. — 
Commercial  and  Financial  Theories. — Grain  and  Cotton  Prodi>cts. — Alleged  Errors  in  Trade  Cus- 
toms.— Individual  vs.  Associated  EflTorts — '  Middlemen'  a  Disadvantage. — Substitute  for  Their  Inter- 
vention — The  Case  Illustrated. — Difficulties  and  Remedies. 


"  The  ultimate  ohject  of  this  organization  Ib  for  mutual  instruction  nntl  protection,  to  lifftiten  labor  bv  diffuslns  a  knowledce  nf  its  aims 
and  p'irpiiss.  .xpiiul  the  mind  by  tracing  the  beautiful  laws  the  g  e  it  Creator  has  established  in  the  univeist,  and  to  cularjje  our  views  of 
Creative  wisdom  and  power."— CoNaiii  UTio.N  OK  iHE  Natiohal  Gka.noe. 


NE  of  the  most  active  and  vigorous  co-operative  bodies  which  have 


'^'^^}^h''Mt^'-M  ^^'*^ii  organized,  on  a  popular  basis,  witliin  the  last  few  years  of  the 

national   century,  and  which  now  has  its  associate 
representation  in  almost  all   parts  of  the  countr}', 
is  what  is  known  as  the  National   Grangers — and, 
similarly.   Patrons  of   Husbandry,  and  Sovereigns 
of   Industrj', — devoted,  as  these    names  imj)ly,  to 
the  interests  of  agricultural  labor,  and  kindred  in- 
dustries.    Their  greatest  strength  is  found  in  the 
western    portion   of   the    republic,   though  by 
i:"''JIl ,;  .>»Y       no  means    confined  to  that  section,   affiliated 
I^i  'z-^.  ^    branches  of  the  order  being  found,  in  a  more 
;"    or  less  flourishing  condition,  in  the  southern, 
i^Vj    eastern,  and  Pacific  regions,  as  well. 

Though  dating  the  initiative  of  its  existence 
no  earlier  than  1867,  it  was  not,  in  fact,  until 
1872,  that  the  order  became  sufficiently  for- 
midable in  numbers  and  influence  to  attract 
wide-spread  attention.  As  illustrating,  how- 
ever, the  rapid  growth  which,  in  time,  charac- 
terized this  movement,  it  is  stated  that,  in  August.  18G7,  Messrs.  0.  H.  Kelley  and 
William  Saunders,  at  that  time  connected  with  the  government  departments  in  "Wash- 
ington, D.  C,  and  known  as  intelligent  and  far-seeing  observers  of  public  affairs  iu 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


939 


their  relations  to  business  and  labor, — both 
gentlemen  having  been  farmers,  and  long 
identified  with  that  class, — conceived  the 
idea  of  forming  a  society,  having  for  its 
object  their  mutual  instruction  and  pro- 
tection. 

In  this  view,  they  were  joined,  on  con- 
sultation, by  others,  and  a  circular  was 
drawn  up,  embracing  the  various  points  it 
was  deemed  desirable  to  embody,  in  pre- 
senting the  plan  of  the  Grange  to  the 
country.  On  the  4th  of  December,  1867, 
in  Washington,  D.  C,  the  first  Grange 
was  organized,  being  officered  as  follows : 
William  Saunders,  master ;  J.  R.  Thomp- 
son, lecturer;  Rev.  A.  B.  Grosh,  chaplain  ; 
0.  H.  Kelley,  secretary.  This  became  the 
National  Grange.  Soon  after,  a  subordi- 
nate grange  was  established  in  that  city, 
as  a  school  of  instruction,  and  to  test  the 
efficiency  of  the  ritual.  This  grange  num- 
bered about  sixty  members.  In  April, 
1868,  Mr.  Kelley  was  appointed  to  the 
position  of  traveling  agent.  The  first  dis- 
pensation was  issued  for  a  grange  at  Har- 
risburg,  Pa. ;  the  second  at  Fredonia,  N. 
Y. ;  the  third  at  Columbus,  0. ;  the  next 
at  Chicago,  III.  In  Minnesota,  six  granges 
were  organized.  Thus,  the  whole  number 
during  the  first  year  was  but  ten :  in  1SG9, 
thirty-nine  dispensations  were  granted  ;  in 
1870,  thirty-eight;  in  1871,  one  hundred 
and  twenty-five  ;  and  during  the  next  year, 
more  than  eight  hundred  dispensations  for 
subordinate  granges  were  issued  from  the 
headquarters  at  Washington,  and  the  total 
increase  during  1872  was  rising  eleven 
hundred. 

The  declaration  of  principles  put  forth, 
authoritatively,  by  the  national  grange, 
leaves  no  room  for  doubt  as  to  the  charac- 
ter and  purposes  avowed  by  this  now  pow- 
erful order.  Starting  with  the  proclama- 
tion of  union  by  the  strong  and  faithful 
tie  of  Agriculture,  with  a  mutual  resolve 
to  labor  for  the  good  of  the  order,  the 
country,  and  mankind,  and  indorsing  the 
motti),  'In  essentials,  unity,  in  non-essen- 
tials liberty,  in  all  things  charity,'  the 
following  specific  objects  are  set  forth 
as    those    characterizing    the    order    and 


by   which  the  cause   is  to   be   advanced, 
namely : 

To  develop  a  better  and  higher  man- 
hood and  womanhood  among  those  consti- 
tuting the  order ;  to  enhance  the  comforts 
and  attractions  of  home,  and  strengthen 
the  attachment  to  their  pursuits  ;  to  foster 
mutual  understanding  and  co-operation; 
to  maintain  inviolate  the  laws,  and  emu- 
late each  other  in  hastening  the  good  time 
coming;  to  reduce  expenses,  both  individ- 
ual and  co-operate ;  to  buy  less  and  pro- 
duce more,  in  order  to  make  their  farms 
self-sustaining;  to  diversify  crops,  and 
crop  no  more  than  can  be  cultivated ;  to 
condense  the  weight  of  exports,  selling  less 
in  the  bushel  and  more  on  hoof  and  in 
fleece ;  to  systematize  work,  and  calculate 
intelligently  on  probabilities ;  to  discon- 
tinue the  credit  system,  the  mortgage  sj'S- 
tem,  the  fashion  system,  and  every  other 
system  tending  to  prodigality  and  bank- 
ruptcy; to  meet  together,  talk  together, 
work  together,  bu}'^  and  sell  together,  and 
in  general  act  together  for  mutual  protec-> 
tion  and  .advancement,  as  association  may 
require;  to  avoid  litigation  as  much  as 
possible,  by  arbitration  in  the  grange ;  to 
constantly  strive  to  secure  entire  harmony, 
good  will,  and  vital  brotherhood,  and  to 
make  the  Order  perpetual ;  to  endeavor  to 
suppress  pergonal,  local,  sectional  and  na- 
tional prejudices,  all  unhealthy  rivalry,  and 
all  selfish  ambition. 

In  regard  to  the  principles  and  aims  of 
this  organization  in  respect  to  business, — 
concerning  which  much  public  discussion 
has  taken  place, — the  statement  is  made 
by  the  order,  authoritatively  and  explic- 
itly, that  it  aims  to  bring  producers  and 
consumers,  farmers  and  manufacturers, 
into  the  most  direct  and  friendly  relation 
possible,  and,  in  order  to  fulfill  this,  it  is 
necessary  that  a  surplus  of  middlemen  be 
dispensed  with, — not  in  any  spirit  of  un- 
friendliness to  them,  but  because  such  a 
class  is  not  needed,  their  surplus  and  ex- 
actions diminishing  the  raiser's  profits. 

Emphatically  disavowing  any  intention 
to  wage  aggressive  warfare  against  other 
interestrJ,  the  grangers  assert  that  all  their 


940 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


acts  and  efforts,  so  far  as  business  is  con- 
cerned are  not  only  for  tlie  benedt  of  the 
producer  and  consumer,  but  also  for  all 
other  interests  that  tend  to  bring  these 
two  parties  into  speedy  and  economical 
contact;  hence,  they  hold  that  transporta- 
tion companies  of  every  kind  are  necessary, 
that  the  interests  of  such  companies  are 
intimately  connected  with  the  welfare  of 
the  grange,  harmonious  action  being  mu- 
tually advantageous, — keeping  in  view  one 


While  declaring  themselves  as  not  the  ene- 
mies of  railroads,  navigable  and  irrigating 
canals,  nor  of  any  corporations  that  will 
advance  industrial  welfare,  nor  yet  of  any 
laboring  classes,  the  grangers  are  opposed 
to  such  spirit  and  management  of  any  cor- 
poration, or  enterprise,  as  tend  to  oppress 
the  people  and  rob  them  of  their  just 
profit;  and,  while  not  enemies  to  capital, 
they  oppose  the  tyranny  of  monopolies,  and 
urge  that  the  antagonism  between  capital 


SYMBOLS  OF    THE    CO-OPERATIVE   LAUOK  ORQAXIZATIONS. 


of  the  primary  bases  of  action  upon  which 
the  order  rests,  namely,  that  individual 
happiness  depends  upon  general  prosperity. 
To  this  end,  the  order  advocates  for 
every  state  the  increase,  in  every  practica- 
ble way,  of  all  facilities  for  transporting 
cheaply  to  the  seaboard,  or  between  home 
producers  and  consumers,  all  the  produc- 
tions of  the  country,  the  fixed  purpose  of 
action  being,  in  this  respect,  to  open  out 
the  channels  in  nature's  great  arteries,  that 
the  life-blood  of  commerce  may  flow  freely. 


and  labor  be  removed  by  common  consent, 
and  by  enlightened  statesmanship  worthy 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  Opposition  is  de- 
clared, also,  to  excessive  salaries,  high  rates 
of  interest,  and  exorbitant  per  cent,  profits 
in  trade,  as  greatly  increasing  the  burdens 
of  the  people,  and  bearing  no  proper  pro- 
portion to  the  profits  of  producers. 

The  relations  of  the  grange  movement 
to  political  parties  and  questions  have 
formed,  almost  from  the  first,  the  subject 
of  universal  criticism.     It  is  emphatically 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


941 


declared,  however,  as  the  oft-repeated  truth 
taught  in  the  organic  law  of  the  order,  that 
the  grange,  national,  state,  or  subordinate, 
is  not  a  political   or   party  organization; 
and  yet,  while  no  grange,  if  true  to  its  obli- 
gations, can  discuss  political  or  religious 
questions,  nor  call  political  conventions  or 
nominate  candidates,  nor  ever  discuss  their 
merits  in  its  meetings,  the  principles  enun- 
ciated by  the  order  are,  it  is  claimed,  such 
as  underlie  all  true  politics  and  all  true 
statesmanship,  and,  if  properly  carried  out, 
tending  to  purify  the  whole  political  atmos- 
phere of  the  country ;  that,  though  seek- 
ing the  greatest  good  to  the  greatest  num- 
ber, no  one  by  becoming  a  grange  member 
gives  up  that  inalienable  right  and  duty 
which  belong  to  every  American  citizen, 
to  take  a  proper  interest  in  the  politics  of 
h's  country.     On  the  contrary,  the  grange 
pronounces  it  to  be  the  right  and  duty  of 
every  member  to  do  all  in  his  power  legiti- 
mately to  influence,  for  good,  the  action  of 
any  political  party  to  which  he  belongs ; 
that  it  is  his  duty  to  do  all  he  can,  in  his 
own  party,  to  put  down  bribery,  corrup- 
tion, and  trickery, — to  see  that  none  but 
competent,  faithful,  and  honest  men,  who 
will  unflinchingly  stand  by  the  interests  of 
the  order  are  nominated  for  all  positions  of 
trust, — the  governing  principle  in  this  re- 
spect to  be,  that  the  office  should  seek  the 
man   and   not  the   man  the   office.      The 
broad  principle  is  acknowledged,  that  dif- 
ference of   opinion  is  no  crime,  and  that 
progress  towards  truth  is  made  by  differ- 
ences of  opinion,  while  the  fault  lies  in  bit- 
terness of  controversy.     A  proper  equality, 
equity   and   fairness,    protection    for   the 
weak,  restraint  upon  the  strong, — in  short, 
justly  distributed  burdens,  and  justly  dis- 
tributed power, — the  grange  holds  to  be 
American  ideas,  the  very  essence  of  Amer- 
ican  independence,  to   advocate   the   con- 
trary being  unworthy  the  sons  and  daugh- 
ters of  an  American  republic.     Cherishing 
the  belief,  too,  that  sectionalism  is  and  of 
right  should  be  dead  and  buried  with  the 
past,  the  order  declares  its  work  to  be  for 
the  present  and  future,  and  consequently 
recognizes  in  its  agricultural  brotherhood, 


and  its  associational  purposes,  no  north, 
no  south,  no  east,  no  west,  and  to  every 
member  is  reserved  the  freeman's  right  to 
affiliate  with  any  party  that  will  best  carry 
out  his  principles. 

The    wonderful    growth    of   the    grange 
movement,  especially  throughout  the  west, 
is   asserted   by   Mr.  J.  K.  Hudson,  an   in- 
telligent  and   reliable   authority,  to  have 
been  without  a  parallel  in  the  history  of 
associational  movements  in  this  country ; 
and  this  fact  he  attributes  to  the  condition 
of  the  public  mind  which  existed  at  the 
time  of  the  founding  of  the  movement, — 
the  prevailing  feeling  of  distrust  towards 
the  organized  interests  of  every  kind  then 
existing,  the  common  indignation  against 
the   injustice  of   the  unfair  distribution  of 
profits,      the     prevailing      discrimination 
against  agricultural  labor  which  was,  year 
after  year,   constantly  kept  alive  in   the 
minds  of  the   farmers  of  the  west  by  the 
fast  decreasing  profits,  buying  goods  sold 
at  heavy  profits,  paying  burdensome  taxes 
brought  upon  them  by  unscrupulous  rings 
which  had  squandered  and  stolen  the  pub- 
lic  funds,  while   the   result  of   the   year's 
product  and  sale  showed  a  loss  to  honest 
labor. 

Such  a  remarkable  feature  in  American 
life  as  the  rise  and  progress  of  this  move- 
ment has  not  failed  to  attract  attention  in 
foreign  lands,  and  particularly  in  England. 
Thus,  at  the  Social  Science  Congress  of 
Great  Britain,  assembled  in  1875,  the  Earl 
of  Roseberry,  president  of  the  association, 
after  speaking  of  the  various  'Unions'  to 
be  found  in  the  United  States,  such  as  the 
Sons  of  Toil,  the  Brethren  of  Labor,  etc., 
characterized  as  incomparably  above  these, 
"the  gigantic  association  of  Patrons  of 
Husbandry,  commonly  called  the  Grange, 
a  great  agricultural,  co-operative,  inde- 
pendent union.  Its  progress  has  been 
amazing.  Its  first  grange,  or  lodge,  was 
formed  in  the  last  month  of  1867  ;  there 
are  at  this  moment  20,500,  with  1,311,226 
members,  and  at  the  end  of  the  year  it  is 
certain  that  they  will  have  thirty  thousand, 
with  two  million  members.  The  order  is 
practically  identified  with  the  agricultural 


942 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


iiiii):^ 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


943 


population  of  twenty-six  states,  and  with 
two-thirds  of  the  farmers  in  ten  otliers. 
In  Missouri  alone  there  are  said  to  be 
2,150  granges ;  they  are  making  their 
wa}'  in  Canada.  Pennsylvania  began  the 
year  with  six  lodges,  and  at  this  moment 
she  has  eight  hundred."  In  regard  to  the 
cause  of  this  prodigious  increase,  the  earl 
thinks  it  easily  accounted  for,  in  view  of 
the  fact  that,  as  alleged,  the  membership 
adds  not  less  than  fifty  per  cent,  to  the 
income  of  the  order;  and  their  enterprise 
and  importance  are  further  made  manifest 
by  the  fact,  as  stated,  that  the  California 
grangers  have  their  own  fleet,  and  ship 
their  corn  direct  to  Liverpool,  by  which 
they  saved  two  million  dollars,  in  freights, 
in  a  single  3'ear, — their  vessels  bringing, 
as  return  cargoes,  tea,  sugar,  coffee,  silk, 
and  other  commodities,  which  are  retailed 
to  members  at  cost  price,  and  a  system  is 
being  organized  by  which  tlieir  ships  re- 
turn with  loads  of  every  foreign  article 
which  the  members  may  need,  thus  mak- 
ing them  an  independent  mercantile  na- 
tion. In  a  similar  strain,  it  is  remarked 
by  Mr.  Leavitt,  an  ardent  advocate  of  the 
order,  that,  although  the  fact  be  a  disa- 
greeable one  to  some  classes  of  non-pro- 
ducers, it  is  none  the  less  undeniable  that 
the  rugged  health  of  the  movement  arises 
from  its  direct  bearing  upon  the  pockets 
of  its  members, — the  chief  advantage  be- 
ing the  wholesale  buying  and  selling 
which  is  done  through  the  machinery  of 
the  order,  differing,  of  course,  in  different 
states ;  thus,  in  the  west,  a  large  part  of 
the  gain  is  from  the  wholesale  disposal  of 
grain,  and  its  handling  through  grange 
elevators,  while,  in  the  south,  planters 
have  saved  large  sums  by  using  the  grange 
agents  in  disposing  of  their  cotton. 

This  last  named  consideration  appears 
to  be  a  vital  point  in  the  principles  and 
aims  of  the  grangers,  and  is  urged  very 
strongly  in  the  writings  of  those  who  are 
the  acknowledged  spokesmen  of  the  order. 
According  to  the  argument  of  Mr.  Aiken, 
a  leading  member  at  the  south,  the  philos- 
ophy of  the  order  is  based  upon  the  idea 
of  affording  mutual  benefit  to  the  producer 


and  consumer  by  bringing  them  together. 
This  position  he  enforces  by  stating  the 
disadvantage  the  farmer  labors  under,  by 
the  system  of  trade  at  present  carried  on. 
To  dispose  of  his  crop  as  he  pleases,  says 
Mr.  Aiken,  is  an  enjoyable  privilege,  and, 
when  he  exchanges  his  products  for  the 
cash  in  hand  he  experiences  a  satisfaction 
not  suggested  by  the  receipt  of  bills  of  sale 
made  at  a  distance  ;  those  who  buy  from 
the  farmer  in  a  home  market,  however, 
are  most  generally  speculators,  or  '  middle- 
men '  of  the  genuine  stamp ;  they  buy 
simply  to  sell  at  a  profit,  and  if  they,  by 
their  better  judgment  and  astuteness,  can 
realize  a  handsome  profit  upon  their  in- 
vestment, they  should  not  be  condemned 
as  tradesmen.  If  A  buys  B's  crop,  and 
nets  fifty  per  cent,  upon  the  purchase,  he 
was  no  more  to  blame  than  B  was  for  sell- 
ing to  him  ;  both  transactions  were  legiti- 
mate, but  the  result  would  show  there  was 
something  erroneous  in  this  method  of 
dealing — the  error  was  that  farmer  B  did 
not  properly  comprehend  the  '  tricks  of 
trade,'  he  had  not  studied  the  difference 
between  wholesale  and  retail,  between  lo- 
cal and  through  freights,  between  individ- 
ual and  combined  efforts,  between  isola- 
tion and  co-operation.  The  purchase  of  a 
single  article,  the  i«hipment  of  a  single 
crop,  the  efforts  of  a  single  individual,  are 
all  alike  in  their  results,  and  of  minor 
importance  to  tradesmen  ;  but  where  the 
purchases  are  made  by  wholesale,  crops 
are  grouped  together  for  shipment,  and  the 
entire  transaction  submitted  to  a  single 
disbursing  agent,  the  commission  on  sales 
is  diminished,  the  cost  of  transportation 
is  reduced,  and  the  aggregated  profits  be- 
come a  handsome  amount.  Just  so  the 
'middleman'  acts;  he  buys  individuall}', 
but  groups  his  purchases  and  ships  col- 
lectively,— is  his  own  disbursing  agent, 
and  pockets  the  results  of  his  profitable 
labors.  It  is  exactly  in  this  capacity  that 
the  grange  proposes  to  act  for  the  farmer. 
Similar  in  its  spirit  and  principles  of 
fraternity  and  co-operation  is  the  organiza- 
tion, 60  increasingly  prosperous,  known  as 
the   Sovereigns  of  Industry.     As  defined 


944 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


by  Mr.  Alger,  a  prominent  exponent  of 
the  society's  aims,  its  members  maintain 
that  the  true  desideratum  is  to  raise  the 
quality  and  quantity  of  every  sort  of  use- 
ful production  to  the  maximum,  and  to 
reduce  the  cost  both  of  creation  and  distri- 
bution to  the  minimum ;  and,  with  this 
end  in  view,  holding  that  men  should  be 
producers  of  good  in  some  form,  and  that 
their  sum  of  goods  will  be  perfected  by 
equitable  exchanges,  they  have  already 
begun  the  systematic  organization  of  a 
method  of  bringing  all  kinds  of  producers 
and  consumers  into  direct  contact,  for 
their  common  gain  and  to  the  universal 
advantage, — the  system  being  intended  to 
prevent  the  waste  of  labor,  and  to  put  an 
end  to  the  exaction  of  profit  without  any 
correspondent  creation  of  value  or  use,  and 
to  swallow  up  the  bitter  rivalries  and  ani- 
mosities of  labor  and  capital  and  trade  in 
an  inclusive  harmonizing  of  them  all.  In 
the  further  declaration  of  the  purposes  of 


the  order,  upon  which  its  action  as  above 
indicated  is  based,  it  is  urged  that  the 
master  principle  of  a  true  civilization  must 
be  the  direct  application  of  labor  to  the 
production  of  the  goods  of  life.  In  utter 
opposition,  however,  to  this,  is  the  applica- 
tion of  artifice  to  obtain  money  from  those 
who  possess  it,  in  order  that  the  obtaiuer 
may  command  the  goods  of  life  without 
producing  them.  The  only  real  remedy, 
— says  the  declaration  of  this  order, — is 
the  overthrow  of  the  existing  monopoly 
and  gambling  concentrated  in  the  present 
system  of  monej',  and  the  assignment  of 
its  just  prerogatives  to  productive  labor ; 
an  end  must  be  put  to  all  those  forms  of 
speculation  which  simply  transfer  money 
from  hand  to  hand  without  any  use  or 
equivalent,  and  an  end  must  be  put  also  to 
the  enormous  profits  exacted  by  the  dis- 
tributors of  goods  who  create  no  value  but 
get  rich  out  of  the  earnings  of  productive 
labor. 


ex. 

TRIAL  OF  BEV.  H.  W.   BEECHER,  FOR  ADULTERY  WITH 

MRS.  THEODORE  TILTON,  AS  CHARGED  BY 

HER  HUSBAND.— 1875. 


The  Name  of  the  Accused,  as  Preacher,  Author,  and  Reformer,  Co-extensive  with  Christianity  and 
Civilization. — Story  of  the  Plaintiff,  of  the  Wife,  and  of  the  Defendant. — The  Longest  and  Most 
Bitter  Contest  in  American  Judicial  Annals. — A  Widespread  Social  Tragedy. — Suffocating  Crowds 
Fill  the  Hall. — Array  of  Eminent  Counsel. — Mrs.  Tilton  and  Mrs.  Beecher  Attend  Daily. — Flowers 
and  Applause — Activity  of  the  Press  and  Telegraph — Foundation  of  the  Terrible  Charges — Dam- 
ages Laid  at  One  Hundred  Thousand  Dollars. — Mrs.  Tilton's  Confessions  to  Her  Husband. — A 
Retraction  Obtained  by  Mr.  Beecher. — Mr.  Moulton,  for  Mr.  Tilton,  Demands  its  Return. — Explana- 
tions by  Mr.  Beecher. — Denial  of  any  Improprieties, — Mr.  Tilton's  Appearance  on  the  Stand. — Nature 
of  the  Defense. — Mr.  Beecher  in  His  Own  Behalf. — Mrs.  Tilton's  Appeal  to  the  Court. — One  Hundred 
and  Eleven  Witnesses  Called. — Great  Conflict  of  Testimony. — Opinion  and  Rulings  of  the  Judge. — 
The  Jury  Seven  Days  Out. — Their  Final  Disagreement. 


"  There  has  been  no  sensation  like  it  in  this  generation."— BosTOir  Dailt  Adtebtiseb. 


^3>;EY0]SrD  any  and  all  other  events,  of  its  kind,  duis 
^^i  ing  the  centurj',  the  trial  of  Kev.  Henry  Ward 
Beecher,  for  nearly  thirty  years  pastor  of  the 
Plymouth  church,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  for  adultery 
with  Mrs.  Theodore  Tilton,  as  charged  hy  her  hus- 
band, excited  the  public  mind,  from  one  end  of  the 
land  to  the  other,  and  this  continued,  with  una- 
bated intensity,  until  the  final  issue  of  the  case, 
nearly  six  months  after. 

Eager  crowds  daily  attended  the  suffocating  hall 
of  justice,  during  all  this  period — the  longest  and 
most  bitter  judicial  contest  in  the  annals  of  Amer- 
ican jurisprudence, — the  most  powerful  legal  talent 
of  the  bar  of  New  York  and  elsewhere  composing 
the  counsel  of  the  respective  parties  to  the  suit, 
such  advocates  as  Morris,  Beach,  Fullerton,  Pryor, 
and  others,  for  the  plaintiff,  being  matched  against 
Evarts,  Porter,  Tracy,  Shearman,  Abbott,  and 
others,  for  the  defendant.  And  over  this  distin- 
guished court — its  extraordinary  scenes  and  actors, 
and  momentous  interests, — it  is  worthy  of  record, 
in  this  place,  that  Judge  Neilson  presided  with  a 
wisdom,  dignity,  and  impartiality,  that  won  for  him  universal  and  enduring  eulogy. 
60 


SCENE  DURING  THE  TRIAL  OF  H.  W.  BEECHER. 


946 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Mrs.  Tilton,  seated  witli  Mr.  Beeclier's 
friends,  was  in  almost  daily  attendance ; 
distinguished  j)ublic  men,  from  all  parts 
of  the  country,  were  visitors  to  the  court ; 
flowers  and  applause  were  liberally  be- 
stowed upon  the  plaintiff  and  defendant, 
by  their  respective  supporters;  the  tele- 
graph flashed  hourly  reports  of  the  pro- 
ceedings to  all  parts  of  the  land ;  and  the 
great  metropolitan  journals  teemed  with 
extra  issues. 

Of  the  two  great  characters  in  this  legal 
and  social  tragedy,  Henry  Ward  Beecher 
and  Theodore  Tilton,  it  is  safe  to  say  that 
each  had  attained  a  shining  eminence, 
almost  unequaled,  in  their  respective 
spheres.  As  a  preacher,  author,  and  re- 
former, the  name  of  Mr.  Beecher  was 
co-extensive  with  the  area  of  Christendom 
and  civilization.  He  was,  in  the  language 
of  the  ablest  New  England  journal  that 
espoused  the  cause  of  his  opponent,  the 
most  splendid,  the  most  inspiring,  and  the 
most  beloved  figure  before  the  American 
people, — he  had  not  only  toiled  and  fought, 
with  tremendous  effect,  in  the  great  strug- 
gle to  free  at  once  the  slave  and  the  nation, 
but  he  was  swift  to  preach  a  higher  and 
more  generous  and  vital  Christianity  than 
the  American  pulpit  had  ever  yet  uttered, 
— and,  after  the  successive  deaths  of  his 
great  contemporaries,  he  remained  the 
great  man  of  the  American  people.  For 
nearly  thirty  years  he  had  ministered  to 
the  same  church,  and  that  the  largest 
Protestant  church  on  the  continent.  Of 
this  church,  Mrs.  Tilton  had  been  a  devout 
member  from  her  girlhood,  as  also  had 
Mr.  Tilton  for  a  period  of  years  prior  to 
1870,  the  closest  personal  intimacy  exist- 
ing between  the  three.  Of  Mr.  Tilton,  and 
his  career,  the  same  journal,  already  cited, 
speaks  as  a  man  who,  assuming  the  editorial 
chair  of  the  "  Independent,"  became  the  idol 
and  the  weekly  teacher  of  a  vast  constitu- 
ency of  readers, — a  man  of  impulses  and 
affections  no  less  broad  and  ardent  than  Mr. 
Beecher's,  adding  to  these,  in  his  writings,  a 
style  trenchant  and  vigorous.  As  a  scholar, 
orator,  and  journalist,  Mr.  Tilton  occupied 
a  place  in  the  very  foremost  rank. 


On  the  eleventh  daj''  of  January,  1875, 
and  thereafter  for  nearly  six  consecutive 
months,  the  Brooklyn  City  Court  assem- 
bled, day  after  day,  to  try  this  memorable 
action  at  law  by  Mr.  Tilton  against  Mr. 
Beecher,  the  damages  being  laid  at  one 
hundred  thousand  dollars. 

The  terrible  charges  upon  which  Mr. 
Tilton  founded  his  suit  were,  briefly,  as 
follows  :  That  for  a  series  of  years  Mr. 
Beecher  continued  a  friendship  with  Mrs. 
Tilton,  until  the  year  1870,  during  which 
period,  by  many  tokens  and  attentions,  he 
won  her  love,  so  that,  after  long  moral 
resistance  by  her,  and  after  repeated  as- 
saults by  him  upon  her  mind,  with  over- 
mastering arguments,  he  accomplished  the 
possession  of  her  person,  maintaining  with 
her  thereafter,  namely,  from  the  autumn 
of  1868  to  the  spring  of  1870,  the  relation 
of  criminal  intercourse. 

The  ground  for  these  charges,  as  alleged 
by  Mr.  Tilton,  consisted,  mainly,  of  a 
circumstantial  confession  made  to  him  by 
Mrs.  Tilton,  in  July,  1870,  of  this  criminal 
relation,  accompanied  by  citations  from 
Mr.  Beecher's  arguments  and  reasonings 
with  her  to  overcome  her  scruples  against 
yielding  to  his  desires. 

On  the  evening  of  December  30,  1870, 
Mr.  Tilton  conveyed  to  Mr.  Beecher, 
through  the  hand  of  an  old  friend,  Mr. 
Francis  D.  Moulton,  a  request  for  an  inter- 
view at  the  house  of  the  latter.  On  this 
occasion,  Mr.  Tilton  drew  Mr.  Beecher's 
attention  to  a  written  paper  containing,  he 
stated,  the  substance  of  the  confession 
hitherto  made  by  Mrs.  Tilton.  This  paper 
furnished  to  Mr.  Beecher  the  first  knowl- 
edge he  had  as  yet  received  of  any  such 
divulgences  by  Mrs.  Tilton,  and,  at  the 
close  of  the  interview,  being  informed  by 
Mr.  Tilton  that  he  could  verify  the  state- 
ments, if  he  wished,  by  going  to  see  Mrs. 
Tilton  herself,  he  repaired,  that  same  night, 
to  her  residence,  where  she  lay  on  her 
sick  bed.  Mr.  Beecher  states,  of  this 
visit,  that  he  informed  her  he  had  just 
come  from  the  presence  of  her  husband, 
who  had  been  making  serious  charges 
against  him.     "  Elizabeth,  he  tells  me  you 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


947 


confessed  to  liim  that  I  had  made  improper 
advances  ;  is  that  so  ?  "  She  bowed  her 
head.  He  then,  expostulating  with  her, 
said,  "  You  know  this  isn't  true  ;  wherein 
have  I  acted  wrongly  toward  you ;  how 
could  you  have  done  such  a  thing  ? " 
She  began,  speaking  slowly,  to  answer 
that  she  could  not  help  it ;  she  was  urged 
to  do  so  by  her  husband,  the  latter  per- 
suading her  that  if  she  confessed  to  an 
undue  affection  for  him,  Beecher,  it  would 
be  easier  for  Tilton  to  confess  his  own 
alien  loves,  and  that  this  would  be  the 
beginning  of  a  new  and  better  life.  Mr. 
Beecher  urged  that,  as  she  had  written  a 


charge  against  him,  she  should  write  a 
retraction  ;  she  replied,  that  it  might  injure 
her  husband ;  he  said  he  should  not  use  it 
in  that  way,  but  wanted  it  to  defend  him- 
self, if  the  matter  ever  came  before  the 
church  ;  then,  by  her  directions,  he  got  pen 
and  paper,  and  she  wrote :  "  Wearied  with 
importunity  and  weakened  by  sickness,  I 
gave  a  letter  inculpating  my  friend,  Henry 
Ward  Beecher,  under  assurances  that  it 
would  remove  all  difficulties  between  me 
and  my  husband.  That  letter  I  now 
revoke.  I  was  persuaded  to  it,  almost 
forced,  when  I  was  in  a  weakened  state  of 
mind.  I  regret  it,  and  recall  all  its  state- 
ments, I  desire  to  say,  explicitly,  Mr. 
Beecher  has  never  offered  any  improper 
solicitation,  but  has  always  treated  me  in 


a  manner  becoming  a  Christian  and  a 
gentleman."  With  this  retraction,  Mr. 
Beecher  left  for  his  home. 

The  next  important  step  was  that  taken 
by  Mr.  Tilton,  who,  learning  from  his 
wife,  on  returning  home  that  evening, 
that  such  a  paper  had  been  written  by 
her  at  Mr.  Beecher's  instance,  the  next 
day  deputed  Mr.  Moulton  to  obtain  from 
Mr.  Beecher  the  retraction  in  question, 
charging  that  it  had  been  unfairly  pro- 
cured, and,  after  an  earnest  discussion, 
Mr.  Beecher  finally  yielded  to  the  demand 
made  upon  him,  though  with  extreme 
reluctance. 

In  a  subsequent  interview  with  Mr. 
Moulton — who  now,  as  well  as  for  some 
years  after,  acted  as  the  medium  of  com- 
munication between  Messrs.  Tilton  and 
Beecher, — the  latter  is  reported,  by  Mr. 
Moulton,  to  have  expressed  great  contri- 
tion and  remorse  for  his  previous  crimin- 
ality with  Mrs.  Tilton,  and,  on  being  told, 
by  Mr.  Moulton,  that  such  expressions  of 
his  feelings,  if  conveyed  in  a  written  form 
to  Mr.  Tilton,  would  be  very  acceptable, 
dictated  to  Mr.  Moulton  the  following : 
"  I  ask,  through  you,  Theodore  Tilton's 
forgiveness,  and  I  humble  myself  before 
him,  as  I  do  before  my  God.  He  would 
have  been  a  better  man  in  my  circum- 
stances than  I  have  been.  I  can  ask  noth- 
ing, except  that  he  will  remember  all  the 
other  hearts  that  would  ache.  I  will  not 
plead  for  myself.  I  even  wish  I  were  dead  ; 
but  others  must  live  and  suffer.  I  will 
die  before  any  one  but  myself  shall  be 
implicated.  All  my  thoughts  are  running 
toward  my  friends,  toward  the  poor  child 
lying  there  and  praying  with  folded  hands. 
She  is  guiltless — sinned  against;  bearing 
the  transgression  of  another.  Her  for- 
giveness I  have.  I  humbly  pray  to  God 
that  he  may  put  it  into  the  heart  of  her 
husband  to  forgive  me."  This  document, 
with  the  exception  of  the  words,  separate 
by  themselves,  "1  have  trusted  this  to 
Moulton  in  confidence,"  was  in  the  hand- 
writing of  Mr.  Moulton,  who  asserted  that 
it  was  positively  the  language  used  by 
Mr.   Beecher ; — the   latter,  however,   em- 


948 


OUR  FIEST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


phaticallj  denying,  in  court,  the  authen- 
ticity of  the  document,  or  that  it  correctly 
rendered  the  words  he  used  in  acknowl- 
edging his  grief  at  having  brought,  by  his 
advice,  sorrow  and  division  into  the  Tilton 
family,  or  that  it  related  in  any  sense  to 
adultery. 

In  regard  to  this  document,  which  was, 
perhaps,  the  pivot  upon  which  the  plain- 
tiff's case  mainly  hung,  and  on  the  occa- 
sion of  the  writing  of  which  Mr.  Moulton 
asserted,  in  his  testimony,  that  adultery 
■was  the  crime  distinctly  spoken  of  by 
himself  and  Mr.  Beecher,  the  latter  de- 
clared, when  testifying,  that  its  origin  lay 


^^^ 


Z> 


solely  in  the  advice  he  had  some  time  pre- 
viously given,  that  a  separation  ought  to 
take  place  between  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Tilton, 
because  of  the  unhappy  life  led  by  the 
latter,  and  his  subsequent  sorrow  at  the 
deplorable  results  thus  wrought.  In  addi- 
tion to  this,  Mr.  Beecher  imputed  to  him- 
self the  dismissal  of  Mr.  Tilton  from  the 
high  and  lucrative  editorial  positions  which 
he  held  in  New  York  and  Brooklyn,  thus 
bringing  immeasurable  trouble  and  mis- 
fortune upon  Mr.  Tilton  and  his  family. 

Of  all  the  one  hundred  and  eleven  wit- 
nesses in  this  wonderful  case,  there  were 
three  who  testified  to  personal  declarations 
on  the  part  of  Mr.  Beecher,  in  which  he 
acknowledged  the  fact  of  adultery,  namely, 
Mr.  Tilton,  Mr.  Moulton,  and  Mrs.  Moul- 


ton ;   and,  in  corroboration   of    their   evi- 
dence on  this  point,  the  two  first  named 
exhibited    a   large    number    of   letters    of 
friendship  and  affection  which  had  passed 
between  Mrs.   Tilton  and  the  defendant; 
and  also  between  the  latter  and  Mr.  Moul- 
ton, expressing  admiration  for  Mr.   Moul- 
ton as  the  best  friend  God  had  ever  raised 
up  for  him  in  this  world, — the  chief  stress 
laid  by  Mr.  Beecher  in  these  letters   of 
anguish,    being    the    great   value    of   Mr. 
Moulton's  services  in  keeping  the  matter 
from   publicity,  and  in  controlling  the  re- 
sentments   of    Mr.     Tilton.     This   corre- 
spondence with  Mrs.  Tilton,  however,  Mr. 
Beecher  explained  as  being  in  no  wise 
secret,  but  growing  out  of  the  intimate 
friendly  and    pastoral    relations   he  had 
sustained  toward  her  from  her  very  child- 
hood, and  for  years  subsequently  toward 
both  her  and  her  husband ;  and,  of  his 
correspondence  and  intercourse  with  Mr. 
Moulton,  he  acknowledged  his  great  ob- 
ject to  be  to  prevent  the  damaging  effect 
that  would  result  to  so  many  hearts,  and 
to  the  cause  of  religion,  by  a  disclosure, 
to  the  world,  of  accusations  against  his 
moral  purity  or  integrity. 

The  most  startling  testimony,  so  con- 
sidered, against  Mr.  Beecher,  was  that 
preferred  by  Mrs.  Francis  D.  Moulton, 
who  narrated  a  conversation  stated  by 
her  to  have  taken  place  between  Mr. 
Beecher  and  herself,  at  her  residence,  June 
2,  1873.  On  this  occasion,  after  deploring, 
with  agony  and  tears,  his  adultery  with 
Mrs.  Tilton,  he  spoke  of  its  being,  probably, 
the  last  conversation  he  would  ever  have 
with  her — Mrs.  Moulton, — that  it  was  use- 
less any  longer  to  try  to  live  the  matter 
down, — expressed  great  sorrow  for  the  mis- 
ery he  had  brought  upon  himself  and  Mrs. 
Tilton,  and  great  remorse  and  sorrow  that 
she  should  ever  have  confessed  to  her  hus- 
band, for  it  would  bring  only  ruin  in  the 
end  to  all ;  said  that  he  was  resolved  to 
take  his  life — that  he  had  a  powder  on  his 
library  table,  which  he  had  prepared  to 
take,  and  should  sink  quietly  off,  as  if 
going  to  sleep,  without  a  struggle ;  that 
Mrs.  Tilton  was  not  a  bad  woman  at  heart, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


949 


but  had  sinned  through  lior  affections. 
Mrs.  Moultou  testilied  that  the  interview 
lasted  three  or  four  hours,  all  in  this 
strain,  Mr.  Beecher  being  very  much  ex- 
cited, the  tears  streaming  down  his  face, 
and  saying  that  he  liad  suffered  the  tor- 
tures of  the  damned,  etc.,  etc. 

To  this  narrative  by  Mrs.  Moulton,  Mr. 
Beecher  gave  explicit  denial  on  the  stand, 
testifying  that  no  such  language  was  used 
by  him ;  that  at  the  time  of  the  alleged 
occurrence  of  the  interview  he  was  at 
other,  specified,  places ;  and  that  at  no 
time  had  he  ever  contemplated  suicide. 

The  story  told  by  Mr.  Tilton, — who,  by 
the  laws  of  New  York  could  testify,  under 
certain   restrictions,  in  this  case,  though 


his  wife  was  debarred, — occupied  nearly 
two  weeks,  and  was  a  most  circumstantial 
recital  of  the  happiness  which  character- 
ized his  home  and  his  marriage  relations, 
before,  as  he  alleged,  the  alienation  of  his 
wife's  affections,  and  her  seduction,  by 
Mr.  Beecher.  His  manner  was  self-pos- 
sessed, and  his  enunciation  deliberate, 
with  a  careful  selection  of  words,  and  he 
seemed  to  need  little  questioning, — a  cue 
being  all  that  was  required  to  bring  from 
him  a  whole  chapter  of  personal  and  fam- 
ily history  connected,  immediately  or  indi- 
rectly, with  the  great  and  mysterious  scan- 
dal ;  nor  did  he  seem  to  any  disadvantage 
under  the  rigid  and  acute  cross-examination 
to  which  he  was,  day  after  day,  subjected, 
— a  remark  which  ma}',  perhaps,  with  about 
equal  appropriateness,  be  applied  to  all  the 
chief  witnesses,  on  either  side. 

In  the  progress  of  the  trial,  the  remark- 


able scene  occurred  of  Mrs.  Tilton  rising 
in  court,  and,  addressing  the  judge,  saying, 
"  I  have   a  communication   which  I   beg 
your  Honor  will  read  aloud,  or  have  read 
aloud,  before  the  opening  of  this  session." 
After  a  slight  pause,    Judge  Neilson,  to 
whom  the  document  had  been  passed  by 
Mr.  Evarts,  replied  that  the  matter  would 
be  considered  deliberatel3\     In  this  docu- 
ment, which  was  subsequently  returned  to 
her  as  not  coming  within  the  official  recog- 
nition of  the  court,  Mrs.  Tilton  declared, 
among    other   things:    "I  have   been  so 
sensible,    since   your  last  session,  of  the 
power  of  my  enemies,  that  my  soul  cries 
out  before  you  and  the  gentlemen  of  the 
jury,  that  they  beware  how,  by  a  divided 
verdict,  they  consign  to  my   children   a 
false    and    irrevocable    stain   upon    their 
mother.     For  five  years  past,  I  have  been 
the  victim  of  circumstances  most  cruel  and 
unfortunate,  struggling  from  time  to  time 
only  for  a   place    to   live   honorably  and 
truthfully.      Released    for   some   months 
from    the    will   by   whose   power  uncon- 
sciously   I    criminated   myself  again  and 
again,  I  declare  solemnly  before  you,  with- 
out fear  of  man  and  by  faith  in  God,  that 
I    am    innocent    of    the    crimes    charged 
against   me."       Before    the    close    of    the 
trial,    the    plaintiff's    counsel    announced 
their  willingness,  notwithstanding  the  law, 
that  Mrs.  Tilton  be  called  to  the  stand  by 
the  defendant's  counsel,  if  the  latter  wish- 
ed ;  but  the  offer  was   declined,    on    pro- 
fessedly legal  grounds,  though  strong  ob- 
jections had  been  urged,  by  the  same  coun- 
sel, against  Mr.  Tilton's  testifying,  when, 
by   the  law,  Mrs.   Tilton's   lips  must  be 
sealed.     The  judge,  however,  expressed  his 
special  gratification  at  her  not  being  called. 
It  is   not  overstating  the  truth  of  the 
case,  that  Mr.  Beecher's  appearance  on  the 
stand  was  the  culminating  point  of  inter- 
est   in  this  intensely  exciting  social  and 
legal  drama.     On  Mr.  Evarts  saying,  "  Mr. 
Beecher,  will  you  be  sworn  ?  "  he,  with  a 
look  and  smile  at  his  wife,  who,  through 
the  daily  sessions    of  the  court,  from  mid- 
winter   to     midsummer,    was    constantly 
seated  at  his  side,  passed  to  the  witness 


950 


OUR  FIEST  CENTUEY.— 1776-1876. 


chair,  wearing  the  same  fixed,  placid  look, 
which  he  had  worn  throughout  the  trial, 
and  he  sat  there  with  a-  manner  entirely 
unconstrained,  as  if  in  his  own  pulpit  or 
lecture-room.  Like  most  of  the  witnesses, 
on  either  side,  his  examination  covered  a 
wide  range,  and,  to  all  the  charges  or  tes- 
timon}'  involving  criminality  on  his  j^art, 
he  gave  most  emj)hatic  and  sweeping 
denials,  as  the  following  will  show : — 

Question  hy  Mr.  Evarts. — Was  there 
ever  any  undue  familiarity  between  Mrs. 
Tilton  and  yourself  ? 

Answer. — Never,  sir. 

Question. — Did  you  ever  solicit  or  re- 
ceive any  undue  favor  from  her  as  a  woman  ? 

Answer. — Never,  sir,  and  it  would  be 
impossible  to  her. 

Question. — Did  j^ou  ever,  in  the  course 
of  your  acquaintance,  have  carnal  inter- 
course, or  sexual  connection,  with  Mrs. 
Tilton  ? 

Answer. — No,  sir ;  never,  sir. 

All  these  replies  were  made  with  intense 
energy ;  and,  meeting,  as  they  did,  cate- 
gorically, the  direct  issue  presented  in  the 
action  before  the  court,  constituted  the 
defendant's  answer,  under  oath,  to  the 
plaintiff's  complaint  and  allegations.  Sim- 
ilar were  the  replies  made  by  the  great 
defendant,  in  the  closing  words  of  his  pro- 
longed examination  by  Mr.  Evarts,  as  fol- 
lows : — 

Question. — I  ask  you,  whether  Mr,  Til- 
ton ever  used  to  you,  or  in  your  presence, 
any  language  of  accusation,  of  imputation, 
or  of  intimation,  that  there  had  ever  been 
criminal  intercourse  between  yourself  and 
Mrs.  Tilton  ? 

Answer. — He  never  did. 

Question, — Did  Mr.  Moulton,  in  all  his 
intercourse  with  you,  in  any  of  his  conver- 
sations with  you,  on  the  subject  of  your 
relations  with  Mrs.  Tilton,  or  any  of  the 
subjects  connected  therewith,  that  formed 
the  topics  of  conversation  between  you  at 
any  time,  make  any  accusation,  or  imputa- 
tion, or  intimation,  of  sexual  intercourse 
between  yourself  and  Mrs,  Tilton  ? 

Answer. — He  never  did,  sir. 

A  prominent  feature  in  the  line  of  de- 


fense adopted  by  Mr.  Beecher's  counsel, 
though  scarcely,  or  only  guardedly,  admit- 
ted by  Mr.  Beecher  in  his  evidence,  was 
that  of  conspiracy  against  Mr,  Beecher, 
with  a  view  to  blackmail ;  it  appearing 
that,  during  the  last  few  years,  some  seven 
thousand  dollars  had  been  paid  out  by  Mr. 
Beecher,  in  connection  with  the  matter, 
and  the  counsel  further  alleging  that,  not 
until  after  Mr.  Tilton's  dismissal  from  his 
editorial  positions,  did  he  bring  any  charge 
against  Mr,  Beecher, — beginning,  then, 
first  with  the  accusation  of  improper  pro- 
posals, and  subsequently  asserting  adul- 
tery. The  amount  of  testimony  on  these 
points,  on  either  side,  was  immense,  rami- 
fying in  multifarious  and  irrelevant  direc- 
tions, and  so  conflicting  in  every  particular 
that  was  essential,  that  even  professional 
experts  in  such  reading  were  lost  in  its 
mazes.  The  judge,  however,  in  his  charge, 
expressed  the  opinion  that  Mr.  Beecher's 
advances  of  money — which,  through  Mr, 
Moulton,  went  to  the  benefit  of  Mr.  Tilton 
and  family, — appeared  to  be  mere  acts  of 
generosity,  and  that  the  money  was  not 
extorted  by  Mr,  Moulton,  Among  the 
other  opinions  or  rulings  of  the  judge,  of 
special  interest,  were  the  following :  that, 
upon  the  evidence  adduced  by  the  plain- 
tiff, the  defendant  was  the  only  witness 
who  had  any  actual  knowledge  of  what  the 
relations  between  himself  and  Mrs.  Tilton 
were,  and  was  the  only  person  whom  the 
law  permitted  to  sj^eak  as  a  witness  to 
those  relations ;  and  that  the  intimacy  and 
intercourse  which,  by  the  accepted  rules 
of  social  order,  are  allowed  between  a 
married  woman  and  her  legal  adviser, 
physician,  or  pastor,  are  greater  than 
those  which  are  considered  proper  where 
no  such  special  relation  exists. 

On  the  jury  retiring,  they  took  with 
them  the  volumes  containing  the  evidence 
and  the  judge's  charge  and  rulings,  com- 
prising over  five  thousand  closely  jDrinted 
double-column  jmges — showing  the  vast- 
ness  of  the  case.  They  were  out  the 
unprecedented  period  of  seven  days,  but 
failed  to  agree,  finally  standing  nine  for 
the  defendant  and  three  for  the  plaintiff. 


CXI. 

CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION  OF  THE  BIRTH  OF  THE 

REPUBLIC— 1876. 


Year  of  Jubilee,  Festival,  and  Pageant,  throughout  the  Land. — Prosperity,  Power,  and  Renown  of  the 
Nation — A  Union  of  Nearly  Forty  Great  Commonwealths  and  Forty  Million  People. — Anticipationa 
of  the  Coming  Anniversary. — Legislation  by  Congress  for  its  Patriotic  Observance — A  Grand  Exposi- 
tion of  the  Century's  Growth  and  Progress,  the  Principal  Feature  Decided  Upon  — Vast  Work  of 
Preparation. — The  Whole  World  at  Peace,  and  All  Countries  and  Climes  in  Sympathy  with  the 
Republic  and  its  Auspicious  Era. — Ushering  in  the  Year's  Ceremonials. — Every  City,  Town,  and 
Village,  Covered  with  Gay  Streamers  and  Waving  Flags. — Pomp,  Parade,  and  Universal  Fraterniza- 
tion.— Wondrous  Microcosm  of  Civilization  Concentrated  at  Philadelphia. — The  Culminating  Art 
and  Skill  of  Sixty  Centuries  of  Human  Advancement,  and  the  Products  of  Every  Quarter  of  the 
Globe,  Displayed  in  their  Richest  Illustrations. — An  Unprecedented  Scene  :  President  and  Emperor 
Receiving  the  Salutations  of  the  American  People. — Oratory,  Music,  Poetry,  Bells,  Illuminations, 
Cannon,  Regattas,  Banners,  Hallelujahs  and  Huzzas. — The  Beauty,  Utility,  and  Magnificence  of  the 
Orient  and  Occident,  in  Boundless  Combinations. — The  "  Glorious  Fourth,"  All  Over  the  Land. 
— Congratulatory  Letter  from  the  Emperor  of  Germany. 


"  The  completion  of  the  first  century  of  our  national  existence  should  be  commemorated  by  an  Exhibition  of  the  natural  resources  of  the 
country  an4  'Jieir  derelopment,  and  of  its  progress  in  those  arts  which  benefit  mankind." — Pbesident  Gbant's  Message  to  Cokocess. 


NE  hundred  years  after  the  Dec- 
laration of  Independence  at  Phil-. 
^^^  adelphia,  which  great  event  gave 
^  birth  and  national  sovereignty'  to 
a  new  Republic,  the  centennial 
commemoration  of  that  august  act 
filled  the  land  with  such  festival 
and  pageant  of  jo}'-,  as  only  a  free 
people — prosperous,  powerful,  and 
renowned, — could  be  expected  to 
exhibit.  From  a  feeble  beginning, 
of  thirteen  weakly  colonies,  with 
a  scattered  population  of  three 
million  people,  struggling  with 
war  and  debt,  they  had  now  at- 
tained to  the  colossal  growth  of 
nearly  forty  great  commonwealths  and  forty  million  inhabitants,  and,  in  respect  to 
whatever  relates  to  man's  material  and  moral  advancement,  found  themselves  unexcelled 
by  any  empire  or  kingdom  on  the  face  of  the  wide  earth. 


HOUSE  IN  WHICH   THOMAS   JEFFERSOX  WROTE  THE  DECLARATION 
OF  INDEPENDENCE. 


952 


OUR  FIEST  CENTUHY.— 1776-1876. 


Anticipations  of  the  coming  anniversary 
had  long  been  i:)rominent  in  the  minds  of 
the  people,  and,  in  view  of  the  peculiarly 
national  character  of  the  event,  it  was  at 
an  early  stage  of  the  discussion  brought 
before  the  assembled  wisdom  of  the  repub- 
lic, in  the  halls  of  congress,  the  result  of 
which  was  the  adoption  of  the  idea  that 
had  for  some  time  become  widely  popular, 
namely,  that  an  exhibition  of  American 
and  foreign  arts,  products,  and  manufac- 
tures be  held,  under  the  auspices  of  the 
government  of  the  United  States,  in  the 
city  of  Philadelphia,  in  the  year  1876. 
To  this  end,  the  centennial  commission 
was  appointed — two  commissioners  from 
each  state  and  territory,  nominated  by 
their  respective  governors,  and  approved 
by  the  president.  Under  this  organiza- 
tion, the  vast  work  of  preparation  com- 
menced, and,  on  the  fourth  of  July,  1873, 
the  ground  set  apart  for  the  purpose  was 
dedicated  with  appropriate  ceremonies. 
The  result  of  the  succeeding  three  years 
of  labor  on  the  part  of  the  commission, 
showed  that  not  only  from  every  section  of 
our  own  land  did  the  choicest  contributions 
accumulate  in  every  department  of  art, 
science,  and  mechanism,  but  that  all  for- 
eign countries  also, — in  response  to  the 
invitation  extended  to  them  by  the  Amer- 
ican government, — were  in  sympathy  with 
the  Republic  and  its  auspicious  era;  so 
that,  at  the  time  designated  for  the  grand 
ushering  in  of  the  year's  ceremonials,  there 
»vas  presented  the  most  wondrous  micro- 
cosm of  civilization  ever  concentrated  in 
one  locality.  There  was,  in  fact,  the  cul- 
minating art  and  skill  of  sixty  centuries 
Di  human  advancement,  and  the  products 
of  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  displayed  in 
their  richest  illustrations,  —  the  beauty, 
utility,  and  magnificence,  of  the  Orient 
and  Occident,  in  boundless  combinations. 

On  the  day  of  the  formal  inauguration 
of  the  exposition,  and  at  which  were  pres- 
ent hundreds  of  thousands  of  joyous  spec- 
tators, with  dignitaries  from  both  hemi- 
Bpheres,  the  occasion  was  appropriately 
introduced  by  the  vast  orchestra  perform- 
ing the  national  airs  of  all  nations,  as  fol- 


lows :  The  Washington  March ;  Argen- 
tine Republic,  Marche  de  la  Republica; 
Austria,  Gott  erhalte  Franz  den  Kaiser; 
Belgium,  La  Brabansonne  ;  Brazil,  Hymno 
Brasileira  Nacional;  Denmark,  Volkslied 
— den  tapj)re  Landsoldat;  France,  La 
Marseillaise;  Germany,  Was  ist  des 
Deutschen  Vaterland ;  Great  Britain,  God 
Save  the  Queen;  Italy,  Marcia  del  Re; 
Netherlands,  Wie  neerlandsch  bloed ;  Nor- 
way, National  Hymn;  Russia,  National 
Hymn  ;  Spain,  Riego's  Spanish  National 
Hymn  ;  Sweden,  Volksongen — Bevare  Gud 
var  Kung;  Switzerland,  Heil  dir  Helve- 
tia ;  Turkey,  March ;  Hail  Columbia. 

Following  this  musical  prelude,  the  bold 
chords  of  Wagner's  centennial  inauguration 
march  filled  the  air  with  floods  of  richest 
harmony ;  solemn  prayer  was  offered  by 
Bishop  Simpson  ;  and  then  a  superb  chorus 
of  nearly  a  thousand  voices,  accompanied 
by  orchestra  and  organ,  sang  Whittier's 
centennial  hymn,  set  to  music  by  John  K. 
Payne.  Formal  presentation  being  now 
made  of  the  building  to  the  United  States 
Centennial  Commission  by  the  president 
of  the  board  of  finance  to  General  Hawley, 
president  of  the  centennial  commission,  a 
cantata  was  sung  with  fine  effect,  the 
words  by  Lanier,  of  Georgia,  and  the 
music  by  Buck,  after  which  the  ceremo- 
nial presentation  of  the  Exhibition  to  the 
President  of  the  United  States  was  made 
by  General  Hawlej'',  in  an  eloquent  address, 
to  which  General  Grant  responded  in  a 
eulogistic  speech  of  acceptance,  reviewing 
the  progress  of  the  century,  bidding  the 
whole  world  welcome,  and  declaring  the 
exhibition  open.  On  this  announcement, 
the  orchestra,  chorus  and  great  organ  burst 
forth  into  triumphal  strains  of  the  *  Halle- 
lujah,' from  the  "  Messiah,"  acclamations 
and  huzzas  rent  the  air ;  and  the  unprec- 
edented spectacle  was  witnessed,  of  an 
American  President  and  a  crowned  Empe- 
ror— the  emperor  of  Brazil  being  present, 
and  at  President  Grant's  side, — receiving 
the  enthusiastic  salutations  of  the  Ameri- 
can people. 

The  case  of  Dom  Pedro,  it  may  be  here 
remarked,  furnishes  the  only  instance  in 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


953 


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954 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  history  of  our  century,  of  a  reigning 
crowned  head  visiting-the  United  States, 
with  the  exception  of  Kahakaua,  king  of 
the  Sandwich  IsLands,  whose  tour  occur- 
red in  1874-5. 

And  here  may  be  cited  one  of  the  most 
notable  scenes  which  transpired  on  this 
wonderful  occasion,  namely,  the  starting 
of  the  stupendous  engine  constructed  by 
Mr.  Corliss,  which  was  to  move  the  four- 
teen acres  of  machinery,  comprising  some 
eight  thousand  different  machines,  in  the 
building  devoted  to  that  specialty.  This 
starting  operation  was  performed  jointly 
by  President  Grant  and  Emperor  Dom 
Pedro  II.,  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Cor- 
liss.    These  two  great  personages  took  the 


THE  CORLISS   ENGINE. 


positions  assigned  them  by  Mr.  Corliss, 
who  explained  by  a  motion  of  the  hands 
and  a  word  or  two,  as  to  how  the  engines 
were  to  be  started  by  the  single  turning 
of  a  slender  steel  arm,  like  the  brake  of  a 
street  railway  car, — this  action  opening 
the  throttle  valve,  and  then  the  vast  but 
quiet  building  would  be  instantly  alive 
with  all  the  functions  of  every  kind  of  a 
factory  in  full  practice.  The  time  had 
arrived  for  the  movement,  and  a  most 
imposing  array  of  eminent  officials  sur- 
rounded the  president  and  emperor. 
"Now,  Mr.  President,"  said  Mr.  Corliss. 
"  Well,"  said  the  president,  quietly,  "  how 


shall  I  do  it  ?  "  The  answer  was,  "  Turn 
that  little  crank  around  six  times."  Pres- 
ident Grant  made  a  motion  with  his  fin- 
gers, inquiringly,  "This  way?"  "Yes." 
In  another  half  minute,  the  screw  was 
turned  by  the  president,  the  colossal  ma- 
chine above  him  began  to  move,  the  miles 
of  shafting  along  the  building  began  to 
revolve,  innumerable  steel  and  iron  organ- 
isms were  set  going,  and  a  visitor  who 
retraced  his  steps  could  examine  the  proc- 
esses of  half  the  important  manufactures  on 
the  globe.  At  the  wave  of  Mr.  Corliss's 
hand,  the  emperor  gave  a  sharp  turn  of 
his  wrist  and  started  his  engine  a  moment 
in  advance  of  the  president;  but  the  re- 
sponse of  the  machinery  at  the  single 
touch  of  these  two  men — countless  wheels 
turning,  bands  beginning  their  rounds, 
cogs  fitting  into  their  places,  pistons  driv- 
ing backward  and  forward  and  up  and 
down,  performing  their  infinitely  varied 
functions — was  so  almost  simultaneous, 
that  few  suspected  that  the  Brazilian 
monarch  had  outstripped  his  host.  This 
engine  weighs  eight  hundred  tons;  will 
drive  eight  miles  of  shafting;  has  a  fly- 
wheel thirty  feet  in  diameter  and  weigh- 
ing seventy  tons ;  is  of  fourteen  hundred 
horse-power,  with  a  capacity  of  being 
forced  to  twenty-five  hundred ;  has  two 
walking-beams,  weighing  twenty-two  tons 
each ;  two  forty-inch  cylinders,  a  ten-feet 
stroke,  a  crank-shaft  nineteen  inches  in 
diameter  and  twelve  feet  in  length;  con- 
necting rods  twenty-four  feet  in  length, 
and  piston  rods  six  and  one-fourth  inches 
in  diameter ;  height  from  the  floor  to  the 
top  of  the  walking-beams,  thirty-nine  feet. 
It  was  in  vastness,  power,  and  ingenuity, 
the  mechanical  marvel  of  the  exhibition. 

The  plan  of  construction  for  the  accom- 
modation of  the  several  grand  features  of 
the  exposition,  comprised  five  main  build- 
ings conveniently  located  at  different 
points  on  the  five  hundred  acres  devoted 
to  centennial  purposes,  being  about  one- 
sixth  of  the  area  of  Fairmount  Park,  on 
the  Schuylkill  river,  than  which  no  more 
delightful  locality  could  have  been  selected. 
These  structures  consisted,  respectively,  of 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


955 


the  main  building,  having  an  area  of  about 
twenty-one  and  a-half  acres ;  that  for  ma- 
chiner}',  fourteen  aiu-es;  for  agriculture,  ton 
acres;  for  horticulture,  one  and  a-half; 
for  art,  one  and  a-half.  In  addition  to 
tliese,  the  number  of  special  structures, 
including  the  memorial  hall,  and  those 
erected  by  the  United  States  government, 
by  foreign  nations,  by  the  different  States, 
by  the  women,  etc.,  etc.,  was  among  the 
hundreds.  Many  of  these  were  of  great 
cost  and  striking  architectural  beauty, 
and,  with  statues,  fountains,  flower  plots, 
and  other  decorative  objects  innumerable, 
produced  a  scene  of  surpassing  attraction. 

The  variety  of  s^Decial  celebrative  events, 
in  combination  with  the  wondrous  display 
of  every  marvel  and  masterpiece  gathered 
from  art  and  nature  in  the  four  continents, 
attending  this  centennial  commemoration, 
may  be  judged  of  by  the  following  pro- 
gramme :  Harvesting  display ;  trials  of 
steam  plows  and  tillage  implements;  ex- 
hibition of  horses  and  mules, — of  horned 
cattle, — of  sheep,  swine,  goats,  and  dogs, 
— of  poultry ;  national  gathering  of  the 
Order  of  Good  Templars ;  international 
regatta ;  yacht  regatta ;  gathering  of  the 
Sons  of  Temperance  ;  the  Grand  Army  of 
the  Republic ;  Knights  Templars ;  wo- 
men's temperance  union ;  Am.  musical  as- 
sociation ;  international  series  of  cricket 
matches ;  congress  of  authors  in  Inde- 
pendence Hall ;  parade  of  Roman  Catholic 
societies  and  dedication  of  their  magnifi- 
cent fountain;  parade  of  military  organ- 
izations; i^arade  of  the  Knights  of  Pyth- 
ias; international  rowing  regatta;  inter- 
national rifle  matches  ;  international  med- 
ical congress  ;  parade  of  the  Odd  Fellows  ; 
reunions  of  the  army  of  the  Potomac, 
Cumberland,  and  James  ;  etc.,  etc. 

Memornil  Hall,  or  the  art  gallery,  a 
most  beautiful  structure,  was  erected  at 
the  expense  of  the  state  of  Pennsylvania 
and  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  as  a  perma- 
nent commemoration  of  the  centennial. 
In  its  construction,  nothing  but  granite, 
brick,  glass  and  iron,  were  used.  Its  su- 
perb hall,  pavilions,  galleries  and  arcades, 
are  surmounted  with  a  dome  of   crystal 


and  iron,  terminating  in  a  colossal  bell, 
and,  at  the  apex,  Columbia  rises,  with 
protecting  hands.  Within  these  walls, 
the  treasures  of  painting  and  sculpture 
disi:)layed  were  almost  beyond  enumera- 
tion— certainly  beyond  description. 

The  colossal  proportions  of  the  main 
building  struck  every  visitor's  wondering 
attention, — relieved,  however,  by  its  ex- 
quisitely artistic  form  and  endless  expanse 
of  comjolementary  colors, — and,  within,  a 
universe  of  the  wonderful  and  beautiful, 
such  as  the  eye  of  man  never  before  be- 
held nor  his  hand  created.  The  position 
of  the  nations  in  this  vast  structure  was 
an  interesting  matter  to  determine,  being 
finally  decided  as  follows :  Within  the 
line  of  railing  extending  across  the  en- 
trance, to  the  north  of  the  nave,  the  pavil- 
ions of  Italy ;  passing  east,  the  arrange- 
ment comprised  Norway,  then  Sweden, 
with  the  English  colonies  as  a  neighbor ; 
Canada  adjoined,  and  then  the  mother 
country.  Great  Britain,  occupying  a  large 
space  down  to  the  transej)t ;  beyond  En- 
gland was  France,  and  the  next  in  line, 
still  on  the  north  of  the  nave,  Switzerland ; 
near  the  eastern  end,  and  covering  as  much 
room  as  France,  Switzerland,  Belgium, 
Brazil,  the  Netherlands,  and  Mexico  com- 
bined, the  United  States  exhibited  her 
wonderful  progress,  in  innumerable  illus- 
trations ;  opj)osite  to  Great  Britain,  aj)- 
peared  the  German  Empire,  alongside 
Austria,  and  Hungary  in  the  rear;  ap- 
l^roaching  still  towards  the  west,  but  on 
the  south  side  of  the  nave,  came  Russia 
and  Spain,  and,  along  the  nave,  followed 
Egypt,  Turkey,  Denmark,  and  Sweden, 
while  in  the  rear  of  these  were  Tunis, 
Portugal,  and  the  Sandwich  Islands ;  in 
the  front  rank  was  Japan,  facing  Norway 
and  Sweden,  and,  next  to  the  latter,  and 
back  of  her,  was  China ;  Chili  had  a  place 
near  the  entrance  from  the  west,  and,  near 
by,  was  the  Argentine  Republic.  These 
were  the  locations  of  the  princi^^al  nation- 
alities. 

Handsome,  and  grand  in  its  amplitude, 
and  tasty  in  its  harmonies  of  form  and 
color,  the    machinery  building  fairly    be- 


956 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


957 


"wildered  both  the  eye  and  mind  of  the 
-observer,  by  its  ever-varying  contents, 
while  the  prevalent  soniberness  of  its  acres 
-of  iron  and  steel  construction  was  pleas- 
antly relieved  by  the  cheerful  coloring. 
Horticultural  hall  seemed  like  some  fairy 
palace,  with  its  light  and  airy  design,  and 
delicate  ornamentation,  the  grand  conserv- 
iitory  alone  constituting  a  world  of  beauty 


tures ;  was  built  almost  entirely  of  wood 
and  glass,  and  the  color  a  delicate  whitish 
tint  throughout, — no  effort,  however,  be- 
ing made  in  the  way  of  ornamentation, 
but  simply  to  have  a  structure  suitable  for 
the  purpose  and  in  keeping  with  the  char- 
acter of  the  exhibits.  The  woman's  build- 
ing, or  pavilion,  devoted  entirely  to  the 
results  of  woman's  skill,  was  an  attractive 


INDEPENDENCE   HALL,  JULY  4,  1876. 


io  all  lovers  of  nature ;  in  the  flower  beds 
surrounding  this  structure,  more  than 
thirty  thousand  hyacinth  and  tulip  bulbs 
were  planted,  to  display,  with  thousands 
of  other  beautiful  plants,  their  full  bloom 
on  the  opening  or  inauguration  day.  Ag- 
ricultural hall  was  entirely  different  in 
appearance  from  any  of  the  other  struc- 


structure,  covering  some  thirty  thousand 
square  feet,  and  filled  with  the  dulce  et 
utile  from  all  lands.  The  government 
building,  of  substantial  and  elegant  de- 
sign, contained  a  revelation  of  wonders 
connected  with  the  army  and  navy,  the 
department  of  agriculture,  the  post-office, 
jjatent  office,  signal  service,  ordnance  bu- 


958 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


reau,  light-house  board,  and  all  the  subor- 
dinate departments  and  bureaus  in  any- 
way connected  with  the  government. 

In  making  reference  to  special  objects 
of  interest,  brief  mention  is  due  in  the 
case  of  a  magnificent  piece  of  silver  bul- 
lion, in  one  mass,  valued  at  a  prodigious 
sum,  and  showing,  in  a  conspicuous  man- 
ner, the  metallic  riches  yet  to  be  unearthed 
in  the  remote  West. 

The  Smithsonian  Institution  showed 
every  kind  of  American  bird  in  an  im- 
mense group  by  itself,  also  every  kind  of 
fish,  mollusk,  reptile  and  quadruped. 

Queen  Victoria's  personal  contributions 
comprised  a  number  of  etchings  by  her 
own  hand,  also  table  napkins  spun  b}"-  her- 
self, and  drawings  and  embroideries  from 
her  princess  daughters. 

The  Pennsylvania  Bible  Society  circu- 
lated the  scriptures  in  the  language  of 
every  nationality  represented  on  tlie 
grounds,  a  pure  white  flag  floating  from 
the  top  of  its  pavilion,  bearing  the  words 
of  Jer.  xxii,  29 :  "0  Earth,  Earth,  Earth, 
hear  the  word  of  the  Lord ! " 

Among  the  evidences  of  Connecticut's 
skill  was  the  huge  centennial  time-piece, 
— a  clock  weighing  six  tons  and  having 
eleven  hundred  pieces,  with  wheels  four 
feet  in  diameter. 

A  collection  of  models,  sent  by  Massa- 
chusetts, of  the  various  marine  craft  which 
have  been  employed  in  her  waters,  since 
the  first  settlement  of  Plymouth  colony 
— some  fifty  or  sixty,  most  elaborately 
executed,  and  all  perfect  in  type — from 
the  Indian  birch  canoes  and  first  fishing 
boats  used  on  the  coast,  up  to  the  most 
improved  modern  iron-clad,  attracted  much 
notice.  From  the  Pennsylvania  coal  mines 
came  two  blocks  of  coal,  weighing,  respec- 
tively, about  two  and  one-fourth  and  five 
tons  ;  and,  from  her  steel  works,  a  solid 
ingot  of  steel  weighing  25,000  pounds,  also 
a  perfect  steel  rail,  rolled,  120  feet  long, 
and  weighing  62  pounds  per  yard. 

In  the  navy  department,  the  govern- 
ment exhibited  curious  specimens  of  shot 
and  shells,  small  arms  of  all  kinds,  ships' 
guns    and  howitzers,    Catling    guns,    and 


other  terrible  instruments  of  warfare ; 
marine  engines  and  boilers,  showing  the 
improvement  made  in  marine  engineering; 
immense  cables,  with  mammoth  iron  links ; 
likewise,  beautifully  finished  models  of 
every  class  of  ship  on  the  naval  list,  in- 
cluding lines  of  the  famous  craft  on  which 
Lawrence,  Decatur,  and  McDonough 
fought  and  conquered,  and  the  original 
appearance  of  "  Old  Ironsides  "  was  finely 
reproduced.  The  patent  office  poured 
forth  its  treasures  and  curiosities  —  de- 
vices that  have  revolutionized  labor  the 
world  over.  More  than  one  case  was  filled 
with  relics  of  the  great  Washington — the 
clothes  worn  by  him  on  memorable  occa- 
sions, his  swords,  camp  furniture,  tents, 
etc.  A  complete  set  of  maps  showed  the 
different  areas  of  the  United  States  where 
farm  improvements  have  been  made,  where 
woods  are  most  abundant,  —  every  tree, 
shrub,  flower,  root,  cereal  and  fiber,  in 
their  respective  sections, — the  fungi  that 
destroy  the  different  plants, — and  so  on. 

Louisiana's  products  included  a  tree 
loaded  with  the  somber,  hanging  moss, 
that  renders  some  of  her  landscapes  so 
gloomy,  but  which  is  now  being  used  as  a 
substitute  for  hair  in  mattresses  and  up- 
holstery. California  sent  gold  quartz  of 
surpassing  richness,  and  wonderful  grain 
and  cacti  as  well.  Of  the  Indian  races, 
the  leading  features  were  a^itly  epitom- 
ized, and  their  habitations,  manners,  and 
customs,  represented  by  delegations  from 
different  tribes.  Of  universal  interest,  of 
course,  was  the  original  draft  of  the  Dec- 
laration of  Independence — to  be  looked  at, 
not  touched.  Whitefield's  portable  pulpit, 
which  he  usually  took  with  him,  and  from 
which,  he  once  said,  the  gospel  had  been 
preached  to  more  than  ten  millions  of  peo- 
ple, was  another  interesting  relic ;  also, 
General  Stark's  spurs,  John  Alden's  desk. 
Governor  Endicott's  folding-chair,  the  sil- 
ver pitcher  used  by  Lafayette  in  Boston, 
etc. 

The  inventions  and  handiwork  of  boys 
included,  among  other  things,  a  heavy  ten- 
wheel  draft  locomotive,  cylinder  eighteen 
by  twenty-two  inches,  and  all  of  consum- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


959 


mate  finish.  The  kindergarten  plan  of 
teaching  was  most  fully  illustrated  in  all 
its  appliances  and  methods. 

Massachusetts  sent,  among  its  rich  and 
varied  contributions,  an  organ  of  gigantic 
proportions,  having  fifty-nine  stops  and 
four  banks  of  keys,  its  longest  pipe  being 
thirty-two  feet  and  the  shortest  less  than 
one  inch;  also,  industrial  designs,  of  strik- 
ing character,  from  the  Massachusetts  in- 
stitute of  technology.  Noticeable  as  a 
most  sumptuous  article  of  taste,  was  a 
hundred    thousand   dollar   necklace   from 


pie  on  the  globe, — with  her  thousands  of 
specimens  of  corn,  cotton,  sugar,  her  woods, 
fruits,  honey,  perfumery,  scimetars  ;  Aus- 
tralia, her  mineral  and  agricultural  prod- 
ucts, tin,  iron,  wool,  wood;  Canada,  her 
row-boats,  furs,  iron-work ;  Scotland,  her 
cut  stones  and  precious  gems,  in  every 
form  of  exquisite  jewelry ;  Switzerland, 
her  watches  of  world-famed  beauty  ;  Nor- 
way, and  Sweden,  their  glass-work,  wood 
carvings,  porcelains,  irons  and  steels  ;  Hol- 
land, her  magnificent  models  of  sea-coast 
works,  bridges,  dams,  aqueducts;  Belgium, 


UNION  SQUARE,  NEW  YORK,  JULY  4,  187C. 


New  York  city,  also  the  Bryant  vase  ; 
and,  from  Providence,  the  '  century  vase,' 
of  solid  silver,  being  five  feet  four  inches 
in  length  and  four  feet  two  inches  high, 
and  weighing  two  thousand  ounces.  Each 
State  and  section,  in  a  word,  presented  its 
special  exhibits,  in  superbest  examples  and 
endless  profusion,  tiring  the  eye  and  baf- 
fling description. 

Glancing  a  moment  at  the  countless 
riches  in  every  department  of  nature,  art, 
and  mechanism,  which  flowed  from  foreign 
nations  of  every  zone,  mention  may  first 
be  made  of  Egypt — the  most  ancient  peo- 


her  curiously  carved  balustrades,  cornice 
ornaments,  statues  ;  China,  her  jars,  vases, 
and  other  specimens  of  ceramic  art ;  Japan, 
her  multitudinous  porcelains  and  bronzes  ; 
Cuba,  her  palms,  agaves,  cact,  and  other 
tropical  plants ;  Italj^,  her  fine  art  contri- 
butions, including  rare  and  priceless  gems 
from  the  Vatican,  sent  by  Pius  IX. ; 
France,  with  its  selectest  elaborations  in 
almost  every  department  of  knowledge 
and  handicraft,  not  least  among  which 
being  its  Gobelin  tapestries  and  Sevres 
fabrics ;  Great  Britain,  her  infinitude  of 
woolen,  cotton  and  silk  goods,  carpetings, 


960 


OUK  FIRST  CENTUEY.— 1776-1876. 


hardware,  and  paintings  from  illustrious 
artists ; — and  so  followed  on,  in  magnifi.- 
■cent  array,  Austria,  Germany,  Russia, 
Spain,  Portugal,  Denmark,  Turkey,  Brazil, 
and  others  of  the  great  family  of  nations, 
with  the  choicest  products  of  their  mines 
and  looms,  foundries  and  workshops,  lapi- 
daries and  ateliers. 

But  why  commence,  even,  the  impossi- 
ble task  of  describing  fifty  teeming  acres 
of  templed  wonders  from  every  clime — 
the  marvels  and  masterpieces  of  nature, 
science,  and  art,  in  bewildering  variety 
and  richness.  No  traversing,  in  fact,  at 
all  equal  to  the  occasion,  can  here  be  es- 
sayed. It  will  require,  indeed,  all  the 
■copious  volumes  intended  to  be  issued 
under  official  auspices,  adequately  to  elab- 
orate and  portray  the  genius  and  results 
presented  in  a  display  so  unexampled  in 
the  history  of  man. 

Nor  would  it  be  scarcely  less  impos- 
sible, in  the  scope  of  a  single  chapter,  to 
sufficiently  characterize  the  enthusiasm, 
wide-spread  as  the  continent,  which  usher- 
ed in  and  prolonged  the  observance  of  the 
Anniversary  Day  in  especial,  —  July 
Fourth, — which  numbered  the  first  hun- 
dred years  of  the  greatest  republic  upon 
which  the  sun  ever  shone.  To  say  that 
the  festal  ingenuity  of  nearly  forty  great 
States  and  forty  millions  of  people,  with 
their  tens  of  thousands  of  cities,  towns, 
and  villages,  fairly  spent  itself,  in  efforts 
to  suitably  commemorate  the  Wonderful 
Anniversary,  is  only  faintlj'  expressing  the 
fact.  It  was  a  festival  of  oratorv,  music, 
poetry,  parade,  bells,  illuminations,  regat- 
tas, cannon,  banners,  hallelujahs  and  huz- 
zas. 

At  Philadelphia,  the  central  point  of 
historic  interest  and  centennial  ovation, 
the  resources  of  a  whole  nation's  pomp 
and  glory  seemed  drawn  upon,  on  a  scale 
eclipsing,  in  extent  and  variety,  any  cele- 
brative  occasion  in  the  annals  of  the  re- 
public. Congress,  sitting  in  its  halls  in 
the  capitol  at  Washington,  had  a  few  days 
previously  passed  a  resolution  of  adjourn- 
ment to  meet,  on  this  wonderful  da}^,  in 
Independence   Hall,   where,   one   hundred 


years  before,  occurred  the  birth  of  the 
nation,  and  where,  subsequently,  was 
framed  that  immortal  instrument  w'hich 
gave  to  the  republic  a  constitutional  gov- 
ernment, the  wisest  and  most  admirable 
ever  conceived  by  uninspired  men. 

That  the  celebration  in  this  city  was, 
in  every  respect  worthy  of  an  occasion  so 
august  and  of  a  spot  so  historically  sacred 
and  national,  was  universally  admitted. 
A  parade  of  troops,  societies  and  officials 
took  place  in  the  morning,  ending  at  In- 
dependence Hall.  The'  Centennial  legion 
of  troops  from  North  and  South  was 
commanded  by  General  Heath,  formerly 
of  the  confederate  army,  and  the  proces- 
sion in  various  other  ways  reflected  the 
strength  of  the  renewed  feeling  of  national 
unity  and  fraternity.  In  Independence 
Square,  the  vice-president  of  the  United 
States,  Hon.  Thomas  W.  Ferry,  presided ; 
prayer  w^as  offered  by  Bishop  Stevens ; 
Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes's  *  Welcome  to  the 
Nations'  was  sung;  Bayard  Taylor  read 
his  national  ode;  Hon.  William  M.  Ev- 
arts  pronounced  the  oration ;  the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence  was  read  by  Richard 
Henry  Lee  of  Virginia,  from  the  original 
document,  which  President  Grant  had  in- 
trusted for  the  purpose  to  the  mayor  of 
Philadelphia.  The  faded  and  crumbled 
manuscript,  held  together  by  a  simple 
frame,  was  then  shown  to  the  assembled 
multitude  facing  the  platform,  cheer  fol- 
lowing cheer,  at  this  rare  spectacle. 
There  was  also  sung  the  '*  Greeting  from 
Brazil,"  a  hymn  composed  for  the  occasion 
by  A.  Carlos  Gomez,  of  Brazil,  by  the 
request  of  the  Emperor,  Dom  Pedro. 
After  the  ode,  the  orchestra  j^erformed  a 
grand  triumphal  march,  with  chorus,  ''Our 
National  Banner,"  the  words  being  by 
Dexter  Smith,  of  Massachusetts,  and  the 
music  by  Sir  Julius  Benedict,  of  England. 
On  the  orator  retiring  from  the  speaker's 
stand,  the  Hallelujah  chorus  from  the 
"  Messiah  "  was  sung,  and  then  the  whole 
of  the  vast  throng  united  in  singing  the 
Old  Hundredth  Psalm.  The  magnificent 
spectacle  presented  by  the  procession  was, 
however,  the  scene  witnessed  and  enjoyed 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


961 


61 


962 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


with  most  general  interest  and  admiration. 
It  was  miles  in  length,  and  in  its  ranks 
every  one  of  the  thirteen  original  States 
had  a  picked  corps,  and  it  was  very  evi- 
dent, from  the  hearty  manner  in  which 
General  Heath, — in  the  absence  of  Gen- 
eral Burnside, — formerly  commanders,  re- 
spectively, on  the  field  of  battle,  of  '  the 
boys  in  blue '  and  •'  the  boys  in  gray,'  but 
now  knowing  but  one  color  and  one  flag — 
was  received,  that  the  fraternization  of 
the  North  and  the  South  was  genuine  and 
complete,  on  this  great  natal  anniversary. 
The  procession  was  under  the  lead  of 
General  and  Governor  Hartranft,  and  the 
splendid  pageant  was  reviewed  by  General 
Sherman,  Lieutenant -General  Sheridan, 
and  General  Hooker,  in  whose  company, 
on  the  guests'  platform,  were  to  be  seen 
hundreds  of  official  dignitaries,  of  civil  and 
military  fame. 

In  Boston,  as  the  representative  metrop- 
olis of  New  England,  and  as  the  spot 
where,  almost  above  all  others,  our  nation's 
liberties  had  their  origin  and  chief  support, 
the  preparations  for  the  anniversary  had 
been  male  on  a  splendid  scale,  and  these 
were  carried  out  with  perfect  success  to 
the  end,  witnessed  and  enjoyed  by  the 
patriotic  multitudes  who  thronged  the 
beautifully  decorated  city  from  the  earli- 
est hour.  There  were  parades,  concerts, 
regattas,  balloon  ascensions,  fire-works, 
and  commemorative  services  at  the  great 
Music  Hall,  under  the  auspices  of  the 
municipal  government,  the  orator  being 
the  Hon.  Robert  C.  Winthrop,  a  direct 
descendant  of  Governor  Winthrop,  of  co- 
lonial times,  and  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence being  read  by  Mr.  Brooks  Ad- 
ams, a  great-grandson  of  John  Adams,  the 
revolutionary  patriot  and  leader.  On  the 
orator's  platform  was  an  article  of  extraor- 
dinary interest  to  the  thousands  of  eyes 
that  were  intently  concentrated  upon  it, 
when,  as  Mr.  Winthrop,  in  the  early  part 
of  his  oration,  said:  "And  here,  by  the 
favor  of  a  highly  valued  friend  and  fellow- 
citizen,  to  whom  it  was  given  by  Jefferson 
himself  a  few  months  only  before  his  death, 
I  am  privileged  to  hold  in  my  hands,  and 


to  lift  up  to  the  eager  gaze  of  you  all,  a 
most  compact  and  convenient  little  ma- 
hogany case,  which  bears  this  autograph 
inscription  on  its  face,  dated  Monticello, 
November  18,  1825,— 

'  Thomas  Jefferson  gives  this  writing 
desk  to  Joseph  Coolidge,  Jr.,  as  a  memo- 
rial of  his  affection.  It  was  made  from  a 
drawing  of  his  own,  by  Ben  Randall,  cab- 
inet-maker of  Philadelphia,  with  whom  he 
first  lodged  on  his  arrival  in  that  city  in 
May,  1776,  and  is  the  identical  one  on 
which  he  wrote  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence. Politics,  as  well  as  Religion, 
has  its  superstitions.  These,  gaining 
strength  with  time,  may,  one  day,  give 
imaginary  value  to  this  relic,  for  its  asso- 
ciation with  the  birth  of  the  Great  Charter 
of  our  Independence.' 

Superstitions  !  Imaginary  value  !  Not 
for  an  instant  (continued  Mr.  Winthrop,) 
can  we  admit  such  ideas.  The  modesty  of 
the  writer  has  betrayed  even  the  masterly 
pen.  There  is  no  imaginar}^  value  to  this 
relic,  and  no  superstition  is  required  to 
render  it  as  precious  and  priceless  a  piece 
of  wood  as  the  secular  cabinets  of  the 
world  have  ever  possessed,  or  ever  claimed 
to  possess.  No  cabinet-maker  on  earth 
will  have  a  more  enduring  name  than  this 
inscription  has  secured  to  '  Ben  Randall  of 
Philadelphia.'  No  pen  will  have  a  wider 
or  more  lasting  fame  than  his  who  wrote 
the  inscription."  The  applause  elicited 
by  these  remarks  showed  that  the  hearts 
of  the  great  audience  were  still  filled  with 
the  spirit  of  the  fathers  and  founders  of 
the  republic,  and  that  patriotic  reverence 
for  their  names  and  deeds  had  suffered  no 
decay. 

Conspicuously  attractive,  during  the 
whole  day,  to  the  enthusiastic  throngs, 
were  the  venerable  buildings,  still  remain- 
ing, so  memorably  associated  with  the  part 
taken  by  Boston  during  the  revolutionary 
struggle.  In  the  center  of  the  portico  at 
the  east  end  of  the  Old  State  House, 
appeared  prominently  a  fine  copy  of  Paul 
Revere's  painting  of  the  King-Street  Mas- 
sacre, eighteen  by  ten  feet,  showing  on 
one  side  the  British  soldiers  firing  upon 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


963 


the  population,  several  of  whom  lie  on  the 
ground,  weltering  in  their  blood.  Over 
the  picture  was  a  banner  inscribed  with 
the  words,  "  Massacre  of  the  People  by 
the  British  Troops,''  and,  on  a  wreath 
above,  the  date — 177G.  On  each  side  of 
the  painting  stood  figures  of  the  Goddess 
of  Liberty  holding  the  American  flag  in 


ENTRANCE  OF  THE  NEW  YORK  SEVENTH  REGIMENT. 

one  hand  and  an  olive  branch  in  the  other. 
On  each  end  of  the  portico  were  placed 
faces  and  flags  of  different  nations,  while 
above  all,  on  the  coping  of  a  window,  was 
perched  an  eagle,  holding  in  its  beak  fes- 
toons of  the  red,  white  and  blue.  Faneuil 
Hall,  the  Old  Cradle  of  Liberty,  was 
another  of  these  patriotic  shrines.  On  its 
western  end  was  placed  a  medallion,  ten 
feet  in  diameter,  in  the  center   of    which 


was  a  portrait  of  Lafayette,  surrounded  by 
the  following  sentiment,  which  was  offered 
by  the  illustrious  Frenchman  at  a  banquet 
given  to  him  by  the  authorities,  in  Au-- 
gust,  1824,  viz.:  'The  city  of  Boston— 
the  Cradle  of  Liberty  ;  may  Faneuil  HalK 
ever  stand  a  monument  to  teach  the? 
world  that  resistance  to  oppression  is  a 
duty,  and  will,  under  true  republican 
institutions,  become  a  blessing.'  The 
medallion  was  encompassed  by  a  glory 
of  French  and  American  flags,  and  above 
stood  the  Goddess  of  Liberty  holding  fes- 
toons of  bunting.  Christ  Church,  King's 
Chapel,  and  especially  the  Old  South 
Church — within  the  walls  of  which  last 
named  building,  Warren,  and  Adams,  and 
Otis,  and  the  sons  of  liberty,  gathered 
and  spoke — were  likewise  places  of  most 
attractive  interest.  Local  celebrations 
were  held,  also,  in  the  various  capitals  of 
the  States,  as  well  as  in  hundreds  and 
thousands  of  other  cities,  towns  and  vill- 
ages, calling  forth  every  manner  and  mode 
of  joyous  festivity,  on  the  part  of  old  and 
young ;  and  statesmen,  judges,  generals, 
the  "  honorable  of  the  land,"  furnished 
abundant  oratory,  and  a  vast  amount  of^ 
local  history  of  permanent  value.  The 
honor  of  firing  the  first  centennial  salute 
in  the  United  States — that  at  the  first 
instant  of  day-break — is  claimed,  in  point 
of  locality  and  time,  for  Eastport,  Me. 

In  New  York,  as  in  Philadelphia,  the 
jubilistic  demonstrations  commenced  on  a 
i)  truly  metropolitan  scale,  on  the  evening 
'  of  the  third.  Indeed,  the  most  vivid  de- 
scription would  convey  only  a  faint  idea  of 
the  picturesque  and  imposing  appearance 
presented  in  the  principal  squares  and 
avenues,  from  nine  o'clock  until  far  into 
the  night.  In  Union  Square,  the  whole 
scene  was  one  of  unparalleled  beauty  and 
grandeur,  and  nothing  could  be  more 
impressive  than  when  the  advanced  guard 
of  the  monster  procession  marched  into 
the  square  by  way  of  the  plaza.  It  was 
almnst  an  hour  after  the  start  of  the  pro- 
cession before  the  head  entered  the  grounds 
and  took  position.  The  members  of  the 
Sanirerfer  Bund  were  in  full  force  of  about 


964 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


one  thousand,  on  the  platform,  while  the 
many  hands  that  took  part  in  the  pro- 
cession assembled  between  the  grand  stand 
and  the  singers'  stand.  As  soon  as  the 
immense  concourse  of  peo2:>le  became  set- 
tled, the  singing  societies  performed,  with 
grand  effect,  various  martial  and  patriotic 
airs.  Here,  as  in  other  j)arts  of  the  city, 
the  display  of  fire-works  was  magnificent ; 
in  fact,  the  lower  portion  of  the  city  was, 
in  this  respect,  a  scene  of  bewildering 
splendor,  Broadway  being,  as  it  were,  a 
sea  of  fire  from  Dey  street  to  Union  square 
plaza.  An  electric  apparatus  at  one  of  the 
lofty  telegraph  buildings  poured  a  flood  of 
light  over  the  great  thoroughfare  ;  among 
the  buildings  particularly  brilliant  with 
illuminations  were  the  city  hall,  of  im- 
mense and  multitudinous  windows,  the 
bank,  insurance,  and  newspaper  buildings, 
the  hotels,  places  of  business,  and  a  count 
less  number  of  private  residences,  and  never 
before  in  the  history  of  the  city  was  there 
such  universal  and  gorgeous  decoration. 
Castle  William  fired  a  salute  of  one  hun- 
dred guns  from  its  prodigious  fifteen-inch 
cannon,  the  church  bells  chimed  and  rang, 
,  the  locomotive  and  steam-boat  whistles 
screamed  ;  while  all  over  the  city,  as  well 
as  Brooklyn,  Jersey  City,  and  neighbor- 
ing localities,  could  be  seen  thousands  of 
rockets,  blue  lights,  bombs,  and  other 
pyrotechnics.  Rev.  Dr.  Storrs  was  the 
orator  of  the  day. 

Great  parades,  illuminations,  and  decor- 


ations, were  the  chief  features  in  all  the 
large  western  cities  of  the  republic.  The 
St.  Louis  Germans  exhibited,  in  common 
with  their  intelligent  and  thrifty  country- 
men throughout  all  the  Union,  the  utmost 
patriotic  enthusiasm,  the  special  demon- 
stration consisting  of  a  vast  torch-light 
procession,  and  an  address  by  the  Hon. 
Carl  Schurz.  San  Francisco  began  Mon- 
day and  ran  through  Wednesday  with  its 
varied  and  magnificent  festivities,  which 
included  a  military  review,  a  sham  battle, 
with  mock  bombardment  from  the  forts 
and  ships  in  the  harbor  and  bay,  torch- 
light display,  orations,  music,  etc.  In 
Washington,  on  account  of  the  official  par- 
ticipation in  the  exercises  at  Philadelphia, 
the  celebration  was  mainly  under  the 
auspices  of  the  Oldest  Inhabitants'  Asso- 
ciation, at  the  opera-house,  where  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  —  adopted 
when  what  is  now  the  federal  capital  was 
a  wilderness — was  read,  and  an  oration 
pronounced  by  Hon.  L.  A.  Gobright ;  and 
everywhere  the  national  ensigns,  floating 
from  staff  and  tower,  told  of  the  wondrous 
anniversary. 

In  the  southern  cities,  Richmond  led  off 
at  midnight  preceding,  by  the  firing  of 
guns  at  five  different  points  in  and  about 
the  city,  the  festivities  continuing  far  into 
the  night  succeeding ;  and,  in  Norfolk  and 
Portsmouth,  no  Fourth  of  July  had,  for 
many  years,  been  so  generally  observed. 
Fire-crackers   and   cannon   were    brought 


STATE   AVENUE. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


065 


into  requisition,  various  societies  paraded 
the  streets,  and  many  houses  were  linely 
decorated  with  flags;  salutes  were  fired  at 
sunrise,  noon,  and  sunset,  by  the  naval 
receiving  ship  and  the  monitors,  all  the 
government  and  commercial  vessels  were 
decked  with  bunting,  and  thousands  of 
people  went  down  to  Fortress  Monroe  to 
witness  the  fire-works  there  displayed. 
Montgomery,  Ala.,  bid  farewell  to  the  Old 
and  saluted  the  New  century  of  indepen- 
dence, in  handsome  style,  all  business 
being  suspended,  the  streets  and  houses 
streaming  with  the  red,  white,  and  blue  ; 
a  salute  of  thirteen  guns  was  fired  at  break 
of  day,  and  of  thirty-seven  at  noon ;  a  pro- 
cession of  military  and  fire  companies  and 
citizens  marched  through  the  streets,  and 


commemorated  by  a  grand  banquet  at  the 
Westminster  Palace  Hotel,  under  the 
auspices  of  the  American  legation,  a  large 
and  distinguished  company  of  citizens  of 
the  United  States  and  their  English 
friends  being  present.  It  was  a  magnifi- 
cent occasion,  worthy  of  the  centennial  of 
the  greatest  Republic  in  the  world.  Toasts 
to  the  health  of  President  Grant  and 
Queen  Victoria  were  received  with  ap- 
plause and  music.  The  sentiment,  '  The 
Day  we  Celebrate,'  was  responded  to  by 
Rev.  Dr.  Thompson ;  '  The  Mother  Coun- 
try,' by  Mr.  Henry  Richard,  M.  P. ;  '  The 
City  of  London,'  by  the  Lord  Mayor ; 
'  The  Army  and  Navy,'  by  Major-General 
Crawford  ;  and  'The  newly-appointed  Min- 
ister of  the  United  States,'  by  Hon  Ed- 


WoMAN  S   PAVILION. 


Ex-Governor  "Watts  delivered  an  eloquent 
oration,  the  reading  of  the  Declaration  of 
Independence  being  by  Neil  Blue,  the 
oldest  citizen  of  the  place,  and  the  only 
survivor  of  those  who  voted  for  delegates 
to  the  territorial  convention  that  adopted 
the  constitution  under  which  Alabama  was 
admitted  as  one  of  the  Federal  Union. 

Most  significant,  it  may  be  remarked, 
was  the  respect  paid  to  the  occasion  in 
foreign  countries  ;  not  only  the  Americans, 
in  all  the  European  cities,  joined  in  cele- 
brations, some  of  them  outwardly  public 
and  participated  in  by  foreigners,  but  the 
daily  press  everywhere  discussed  the  day 
and  its  historical  lessons.  In  Dublin  there 
was  a  popular  gathering,  numbering  thou- 
sands, and  spirited  political  addresses.  In 
the  city  of  London,  the  anniversary  was 


wards  Pierrepont.  Extracts  from  Ba^'ard 
Taylor's  national  ode,  delivered  by  him 
the  same  day  in  Philadelphia,  were  read  ; 
and  letters  in  response  to  invitations  were 
also  read  from  Mr.  Disraeli,  Mr,  Gladstone, 
the  Duke  of  Argyle,  Earl  Granville,  Lord 
Houghton,  the  Earl  of  Roseberry,  the 
Earl  of  Derby,  Dean  Stanley,  John 
Bright,  etc. 

In  Paris,  the  American  legation  was 
superbly  decorated  with  flags  and  insignia, 
and  the  American  colors  were  profusely 
displayed  in  the  principal  streets. 

In  Lisbon,  the  American  ambassador 
held  a  public  reception,  and  gave  a  ban- 
quet in  the  evening ;  several  of  the  city 
journals  also  noticed  the  day,  in  leading 
articles  complimentary  to  the  American 
people. 


966 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1S7G. 


THE  TUNISIAN  TENT. 


The  Americans  residing  in  Frankfort, 
Heidelberg,  Otfenbach,  Wiesbaden,  and 
other  towns  in  the  vicinity,  met  in  the 
Frankfort  Palm  Garden,  and  there  joy- 
ously celebrated  the  day  -with  speeches, 
the  reading  of  the  immortal  Declaration,  a 
superb  banquet,  and  closing  with  a  concert 
and  magnificent  fire-works.  In  Berlin, 
the  day  was  magnificently  celebrated, 
Minister  Davis  presiding,  and  proposing 
'  The  health  of  President  Grant,'  Mr.  Fay 
following  with  a  toast  to  '  The  Emperor 
of  Germany,'  and,  among  others,  '  Ameri- 
can Citizenship,'  'Americans  in  Europe,' 
and  '  The  Day  we  Celebrate,' — the  latter 
being  in  verse.  In  the  evening  there  was 
a  splendid  soiree  at  the  American  ambas- 
sador's, followed  by  tableaux  vivants  rep- 
resenting revolutionary  scenes,  such  as 
Washington  at  Valley  Forge,  Antoinette 
receiving  Lafayette,  etc.  At  Stuttgart, 
there  were  salutes,  speeches,  reading  of 
the  Declaration,  patriotic  hymns  and  songs, 
and  other  festivities. 

Among  the  incidental  matters,  of  endur- 
ing interest,  pertaining  to  the  day  and 
event,  and  which  are  here  deserving  of  rec- 
ord, may  be  mentioned  the  proclamation 
by  the  chief  magistrate  of  our  nation,  in 
which,  with  becoming  deference  to  and  as 
reflecting  the  religious  sense  of  the  people, 
he  said  :  "The  centennial  anniversary  of 
the  day  on  which  the  people  of  the  United 
States  declared  their  right  to  a  separate 
and  equal  station  among  the  powers  of  the 
earth  seems  to  demand  an  exceptional 
observance.     The  founders  of  the  govern- 


ment, at  its  birth,  and  in  its  feebleness, 
invoked  the  blessings  and  the  protection 
of  a  divine  Providence,  and  the  thirteen 
colonies  and  three  millions  of  people  have 
expanded  into  a  nation  of  strength  and 
numbers  commanding  the  position  that 
was  then  asserted,  and  for  which  fervent 
prayers  were  then  offered.  It  seems  fit- 
ting that,  on  the  occurrence  of  the  one 
hundredth  anniversary  of  our  existence  as 
a  nation,  a  grateful  acknowledgment  be 
made  to  Almighty  God  for  the  protection 
and  the  bounties  which  he  has  vouchsafed 
to  our  beloved  country.  I  therefore  invite 
the  good  people  of  the  United  States,  on 
the  approaching  Fourth  day  of  July,  in  ad- 
dition to  the  usual  observances  with  which 
they  are  accustomed  to  greet  the  return 
of  the  day,  further,  in  such  manner,  and 
at  such  time  as  in  their  respective  locali- 
ties and  religious  associations  may  be 
most  convenient,  to  mark  its  recurrence 
by  some  public  religious  and  devout 
thanksgiving  to  Almighty  God,  for  the 
blessings  which  have  been  bestowed  upon 
us  as  a  nation,  during  the  centenary  of 
our  existence,  and  humbly  to  invoke  a 
continuance  of  His  favor  and  of  His  pro- 
tection." In  response  to  this,  many 
places  of  public  worship  were  opened  for 
morning  religious  devotion. 

Another  most  notable  incident  was  an 
autograph  letter  fi-om  the  Emperor  AVil- 
liam,  of  Germany,  to  the  President,  con- 
veying his  imi)erial  congratulations  to  the 
latter  and  to  the  American  people.  This 
remarkable  letter  was  officially  presented 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


967 


to  President  Grant,  on  the  morning  of 
July  4tli,  by  tlie  Gorman  ambassador  in 
person,  and  was  as  follows  : — 

William,  by  the  grace  of  God,  Emperor 
of  Germany,  King  of  Prussia,  etc. 

To  THE  President  of  the  United 
States  : — Great  and  Good  Friend, — It 
has  been  vouchsafed  to  you  to  celebrate 
the  Centennial  festival  of  the  day  upon 
which  the  great  republic  over  which  you 
preside  entered  the  rank  of  independent 
nations.  The  purposes  of  its  founders 
have,  by  a  wise  application  of  the  teach- 
ings of  the  history  of  the  foundation  of  na- 
tions, and  with  insight  into  the  distant  fu- 
ture, been  realized  by  a  development  with- 
out a  parallel.  To  congratulate  you  and 
the  American  people  upon  the  occasion 
affords  me  so  much  the  greater  pleasure, 
because,  since  the  treaty  of  friendship 
which  my  ancestor  of  glorious  memory. 
King  Frederick  II.,  who  now  rests  with 
God,  concluded  with  the  United  States,  un- 
disturbed friendship  has  continually  exist- 
ed between  Germany  and  America,  and  has 
been  developed  and  strengthened  by  the 
ever-increasing  importance  of  their  mutual 
relations,  and  by  an  intercourse,  becoming 
more  and  more  fruitful,  in  every  domain 
of  commerce  and  science.  That  the  wel- 
fare of  the  United  States,  and  the  friend- 
ship of  the  two  countries,  may  continue  to 
increase,  is  my  sincere  desire  and  confi- 
dent hope. 

Accept  the  renewed  assurance  of  my 
unqualified  esteem.  William. 

Countersigned,  Von  Bismakck. 
Berlin,  June  9,  1876. 

On  account  of  the  great  interest  in  this 
friendly  document  from  ''Fatherland," 
which  was  naturally  excited  among  the 
German  population  of  our  country,  (now 
numbering  some  millions  of  our  most  pat- 
riotic people,)  we  likewise  reproduce  the 
letter  in  its  native  language,  together  with 
an  authorized  fac-simile  of  the  Emperor's 
autograph,  also  a  fine  portrait  of  the  vener- 
able monarch,  and  an  engraving  of  the 
new  national  flag, — none  of  which  features 


are  to  be  found  in  any  other  volume  pub- 
lished in  the  United  States. 

A  letter  of  similar  purport,  though  not 
received  in  season  to  be  delivered  to  the 
president  on  the  Fourth,  was  also  sent  by 
the  Czar  of  Russia,  also  by  King  Victor 
Emanuel,  of  Italy,  and  from  other  na- 
tions. 

Noteworthy,  perhaps,  above  all  the  other 
inspiring  incidents  of  the  day,  and  which 
wrought  up  the  peo2:)le's  patriotic  sensibil- 
ities to  the  most  fervid  pitch,  was  the 
scene  already  briefly  alluded  to  on  a  pre- 
ceding page,  when  Mayor  Stokley  pre- 
sented to  Richard  Henry  Lee,  of  Virginia, 
the  original  Declaration  of  Independence, 
— Mr.  Lee's  grandfather  having,  one  hun- 
dred years  ago,  offered  the  resolution  to 
the  Continental  Congress,  ''  that  these 
United  Colonies  are,  and  of  right  ought  to 
be,  free  and  independent  States."  On  the 
age-dimmed  but  immortal  parchment  being 
exhibited,  in  its  massive  frame,  to  the 
sight  of  the  people,  men  swung  their  hats, 
and  cheered  with  almost  frantic  enthus- 
iasm ;  women  waved  their  handkerchiefs, 
and  in  some  instances  gave  audible  utter- 
ances to  their  transport  of  delight ;  chil- 
dren innumerable  were  held  up  in  the 
struggling  mass  of  humanity  to  view  the 
venerated  national  relic  ;  and,  amidst  the 
wildest  expressions  of  joy  on  every  side, 
that  ascended  to  and  seemed  to  rend  the 
very  heavens,  the  sacred  document  was 
read.  The  chord  of  unity  and  sympathy, 
full,  free,  and  entire,  ran  through  the  vast 
assemblage,  as  though  no  territorial  sec- 
tionalism had  ever  marred  the  nation's 
harmony — or,  if  it  had,  that  all  by-gones 
were  now  happily  buried  and  obliviated. 
And,  as  between  North  and  South,  noth- 
ing could  have  given  more  gracious  assur- 
ance of  present  good  will  and  future 
promise  of  amity  and  accordant  purpose, 
than  the  message  dispatched  by  the  mayor 
of  the  former  capital  of  the  Southern  Con- 
federacy, as  follows  :  "  The  peoj^le  of 
Montgomery,  Alabama,  the  birthplace  of 
the  Confederate  government,  through  its 
City  Council,  extend  a  cordial  and  fraternal 
greeting  to  all  the  people  of  the  United 


968 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


States,  with  an  earnest  prayer  for  the  per- 
petuation of  concord  and  brotherly  feelings 
throughout  the  land."  And  in  this  spirit 
the  representatives  of  all  sections  met 
together  in  the  city  where  the  Republic 
had  its  birth,  and  in  this  spirit,  too,  the 
memorable    day  was    ushered  in  and  cel- 


ebrated wherever  floated  the  ensigns 
of  American  nationality ;  fraternization, 
North,  South,  East,  and  West,  was  uni- 
versal ;  all  hearts  united  in  the  ascription 
of  ''  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,"  for  the 
Past ;  and  deep  answered  unto  deep,  in  the 
gladsome  acclaim  of 


INDEX. 


A  toast  preceding  a  tragedy,  442. 

Abortive  attempts  made  by  Walker  to  conquer  Nica- 
ragua, 751. 

Abortive  attempts  to  lay  the  ocean  cable,  900. 

Absence  of  any  gale  during  the  awful  fire  in  Boston,  931. 

Access  to  Secretary  Seward's  sick  chamber  gained  by 
the  assassin  Payne,  897. 

Acceptance  by  Lafayette  of  President  Monroe's  invita- 
tion, 27.5. 

—  of  the  invitation  to  America  by  Kossuth,  586. 
Acclamations,  tempest  of,  on  Jenny  Lind's  appearance 

before  an  audience,  .546. 

Accomplices  of  Booth  in  his  crime  of  assassination,  897. 

Accosting  Mr.  Sumner,  previous  to  the  assault,  617. 

Accounting  for  the  want  of  liquid  in  one  of  the  petro- 
leum oil  wells,  705. 

"Achilles  of  Chess,"  Paul  Morphy  j)ronounced  to  be 
the,  6G9. 

Acknowledgment  of  his  biblical  errors  by  Rev.  Wm. 
Miller,  437. 

the  independence  of  the  United  States  by  foreign 

nations,  71. 

Acquirements  in  profanity,  Japanese,  738. 

Acquittal  of  Aaron  Burr,  on  technical  grounds,  210. 

Mrs  Cunningham,  631. 

Robinson,  of  the  murder  of  Helen  Jewett,  633. 

Acres  of  art  and  mechanism  from  every  land,  607. 

Across  the  Atlantic  for  the  first  time  by  steam,  742. 

Action  between  the  frigates  Constitution  and  Guerriere, 
225. 

—  taken  by  congress  in  the  Sumner-Brooks  case,  623. 
Active  interference  by  America  for  Hungary  solicited 

by  Kossulh.  590. 
Adams,  John,  a  sketch  of  his  career,  293. 

advocates    Washington  as  commander-in-chief, 

112. 

appointment  of  as  first  minister  plenipotentiary 

to  EnglMUil,  1 10;  and  interview  with  King  George,  121. 

his  eloquent  advocacy  of  American  independ- 
ence, 6'). 

lamented  death  on  the  50th  .anniversary  of 

Ameiican  independence.  291. 

—  John  Quincy,  his  struggle  for  the  right  of  petition. 
3G2. 

—  Samuel,  murder  of,  in  New  York,  by  John  C.  Colt, 
531. 

Adapted  to  destroy,  fight  or  run.  the  Alabama,  8.")2. 
Adieu  to  the  Army  hv  General  Wasiiingtox,  1783, 

112-118. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  jMge  of  this 
Event.) 


Adherents  of  General  Walker  in  the  south  and  Cali- 
fornia, 751. 

Adjournment  of  congress  to  meet  in  Philadelphia,  960. 

Adjusting  the  great  Stockton  gun  for  action,  446. 

Admiral  Cockbum  commands  the  British  naval  arma- 
ment at  Washington  City,  242. 

—  Farragut's  Achievements  at  New  Orleans  in 
1862,  AND  IN  Mobile  Bay  in  1864,  and  Admiral 
Porter's  Crowning  Victory  in  1865  at  Fort  Fish- 
er, 859-867. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

"—  for  admiral,  flagship  for  flagship— I'll  fight  him!" 

863. 
Admiration,  by  Emperor  Dom  Pedro,  of  the  Moody  and 

Sankey  meetings.  605. 
Adoption  of  the  Federal  Constitution  by  the  different 

States,  138. 
Advance  of  Meade's  army  to  meet  Lee's  hosts,  827. 
Adventurers  warned  by  the  Arab  traditions,  498. 
Advice  to  his  officers  by  Perry,  236. 
Advocating  the  Union  cause  in  England,  INIr.  Beeeher, 

839. 
^gis  of  the  republic  again  everywhere  dominant,  885. 
AfHuence  of  the  United  blates  in  art,  science  and  litera- 
ture, 9. 
Affecting  appeal  of  Lady  Franklin,  533. 
After-scenes  of  horror  at  Antietam,  803. 
Again  under  the  United  States  flag.  New  Orleans,  862. 
Agitation  of  tlie  British  ministers  on  the  surrender  of 

Cornwallis,  108. 

magnetic  needle  produced  by  the  comet,  426. 

Agony  and  death  to  multitudes  in  a  moment  of  lime, 

724. 
Agricultural  hall  at  the  centennial,  9,";7. 

—  prosperity  the  basis  of  the  grange  system,  939. 
Alabama  and  Kearsarge,  battle  between  the.  851. 
Alarm  produced  by  tlie  total  solar  eclipse,  203. 

wonderful  daik  day.  89. 

Alaska,  scientific  expedition  sent  to,  202. 

Albany,  N.  Y.,  immense  contiagralion  at,  .353. 

Albert  Edward,  Prince  of  Wales,  arrival  of,  in  America, 

757. 
Alexander,  czar  of  Rnssia,  his  centennial  salutations, 

967. 
Algerine  corsairs  driven  from  the  ocean,  188. 
Ali  countries  in  sympathy  with  the  nation's  centennial, 

952. 

—  liands  mustered  on  the  quarter-deck  of  the  Somers, 
419. 

"All  Hail  to  the  Hereafter!"  968. 

"  All  ready! "  response  from  Perry's  men  on  the  eve  of 
battle,  236. 


972 


INDEX. 


Alleged  final  scene  between  Parkman  and  "Webster,  by 
the  lattKr,  529. 

—  foundation  of  Mr.  Tilton's  charges,  946. 
Alliance  between  America  and  France,  80. 

Allowing  herself  to  be  distanced  at  first  in  the  prize 

race.  561. 
Alone  ailiis  desk  wlien  attacked,  Senator  Sumner,  6::0. 

post  of  duty  firing  the  signal  gun,  611. 

Aiong  the  Jordan— wild  and  iuipressive  scenery,  496. 

Alternatives  presented  to  Mr.  Calhoun,  328. 

■'Am  ready  at  any  time," — John  Brown's  words  on  the 

scaffold  722. 
Amazing  fortitude  of  John  Brown,  722; — admiration  of 

him  by  his  foes,  720. 
Amendments  to  the  Constitution  prohibiiing  slavery  in 

the  republic,  815. 
"Aniens"  in  the  theater  pit,  6^8. 
amlikica  and    kxglaxd  matched  against  each 

Other  ix  Squadron  Combat,  234-241. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  fast  page  of  this 

Event.) 
American  and  French  forces  unite  at  Yorktown,  106. 
'• —  Cousin,"  play  of,  at  Presidtnt  Lincoln's  asassina- 

tion,  889. 

—  ingenuity,  first  great  triumph  of,  153. 

—  vernus  the  British  flag,  251. 
Among  the  corpses  of  the  little  ones,  572. 

savages,  explorers'  experience,  387. 

Amount  of  gold  taken  in  ten  years  from  the  California 
mines,  507. 

Amours  of  the  betrayer  of  Mrs.  Sickles,  690. 

"An  Arctic  Boat  Journey,"  Dr.  Hayes's  wonderful  vol- 
ume, 509. 

Anatomical  science  identifying  Parkman's  scattered  re- 
mains, 527. 

Anchoring  of  the  American  expedition  under  Mount 
Carmel,  495. 

Ancient  and  modern  wonders  compared,  741. 

—  knowledge  of  American  rock  oil,  699. 

Anderson,  Gen.  Robert,  again  raises  the  old  flag  of  Sum- 
ter, 885. 

—  Maj.  Robert,  his  defense  of  Fort  Sumter,  766. 
" —  John,"  Alajor  Andre's  assumed  name,  98. 

Andersen's  opinion  of  Morphy's  chess  playing  power, 

667. 
Andre,  Major,  capture  as  a  spy  and  execution  of,  98, 103. 

his  intrigue  with  Benedict  Arnold,  98. 

Anecdotes  relating  to  locating  the  national  capital,  169. 
Annapolis,  Washington  resigns  his  commission  to  the 

congress  at,  117. 
Annihilation  of  the  Yankee  fleet  intended,  251. 
Anniversary,  fifiieth,  of  American  Independence,  291. 

—  of  the  Birth  of  the  Republic,  celebrated  in  1870,  951. 
Announcement  of  Macready's  appearance  on  the  N.  Y. 

stage,  511. 
Announcing  Dr.  Buidell's  murder  to  Mrs.  Cunningham, 
627. 

—  the  news  of  Cornwallis's  surrender,  110. 

—  to  Gen.  Walker  his  doom,  755. 

Anomalies,  atmospheric,  attending  the  great  meteoric 

display,  332. 
Anonymous  letter  disclosing  Mr.  Key's  criminality,  690. 
Answer  to  a  request  on  the  battle-field.  General  Mc- 

Clellan's,  803. 
Answering  a  question  with  a  broadside   80. 
Antarctic  continent  discovered  by  Wilkes,  389. 
Anthems  of  thanksgiving  to  God  for  the  return  of  peace, 

917. 
Anti-Macready  mob  at  the  opera-house.  N.  Y.,  510. 

Rent  Insurrection  in  New  York.  414. 

Anticipations  of  the  great  centennial  anniversary,  952. 

Antletam,  Md.,  battle  of,  798. 

'  Anvil  "  chorus  at  the  Boston  peace  jubilee,  919. 


"Apostle  of  Temperance,"  the,  398. 
Apostles,  Mormon,  sent  forth  to  all  nations,  312. 
Apostrophe  to  the  Union,  Webster's,  303. 
Appearance  ami  sentence  of  P.  S.  Brook.s  in  court,  623. 

—  of  General  Lee  on  meeting  General  Grant,  882. 
Gen.  U.  S.  Grant,  882. 

THE  Marine   Mon.ster  known  as  the   Sea- 

Sekpent,  along  the  Atlantic  Coast,  575-583. 

{For  topical  and  analijtical  details,  see  first  paya  oj  tills 
Event.) 

"Apples  of  Sodom,"  description  of  the,  by  explorers,  498. 

Application  by  Lafayette  to  enter  the  American  army, 
274. 

Appointment  of  John  Adams  as  First  Minister  Pleidpo- 

lentiary  from  the  New  Republic  to  England,  119-124. 

Lafayette  as  major-general  in  his  20th  year,  274. 

Appomattox,  memorable  operations  at,  879. 

Appreciative   opinion  of  the  Japanese    by    Pres.  Bu- 
chanan, 737. 

Approach  of  the  "  Dark  Day,"  May  19,  1780,  90. 

April  fourteenth,  1865,  tragical  bereavement  of  the  na- 
tion, 887. 

Aptness  for  chess  displayed  by  Morphy  when  a  boy,  666. 

Arabian  legends  of  sudden  wealth  realized  in  the  oil 
regions,  698. 

Arbuckle's  performances  at  the  national  peace  jubilee, 
921. 

Arch  of  honor  erected  in  gratitude  to  Lafayette,  278. 

Architectural  perfection  of  the  Great  Eastern,  746. 

—  pride  of  the  nation,  360. 

Archives  of  the  nation   removed  to  Washington,  the 
federal  capital,  171. 

Arctic  seas,  expeditions  to  the,  533. 

Ardent  spirits,  discussion  of  the  effects  of,  393. 

Arguments  against  Second  Adventism  by  Mr.  Miller's 
opponents,  435. 

Armed  resistance  to  the  Rhode  Island  state  charter,  410. 

Arming  of  negroes  prohibited  by  Pres.  Lincoln,  808. 

Armory  at  Harper's  Ferry,  John  Brown  and  his  follow- 
ers at  the,  716. 

Arnold,  Benedict,  bravery  of  in  battle,  75. 

his  escape,  101. 

pei^onal  characteristics,  97. 

Around  the  bedside  of  the  dying  president,  892. 

Arraignment  of  Burr  for  high  treason,  216. 
Mrs.  Cunningham  for  murder,  C30. 

Arranging  the  duel  between  Clay  and  Randolph,  283. 

Array  of  eminent  counsel  in  the  Beecher  trial,  945. 

Arrest  of  Aaron  Burr,  208. 

Arresting  Mrs.  Cunningham  at  Dr.  Burdell's  house,  627. 

Arrival  and  Exhibition,  in  New  York,  of  the 
Ikon  Steamship  Great  Eastern,  740-748. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
I:  vent) 

—  of  JcfTerson  Davis  at  Bull  Run,  787. 
the  .Tamcstown  at  Cork,  484. 

Washington    in    Cambridge,  as    commander-in- 
chief,  114. 

Arson,   murder,  and  robbery,   rampant  in  California's 
earlier  iiistory,  ,'')50. 

Art  of  eloquence,  ancient,  exceeded  by  Mr.  Webster,  300. 
music,  triumph  of  in  the  great  Boston  organ,  844. 

Artificial  li^ht,  wonderful  revolution  in,  C98. 

Artillery  at  Gettysburg,  terrific,  827. 

Ashmun,  Hon.  Geo.,  his  interview  with  Pres.  Lincoln, 
889. 

Asia  and  America  united  by  the  Pacific  railroad,  914. 

Asiatic  cholera  in  the  U.  S.,  eras  of,  516. 

Asking  for  re-enforcements,  Gen.  Burnside,  803. 

Aspect  of  King  George  in  parliament,  when  American 
independence  was  acknowledged,  120. 

Senator  Broderick  on  the  dueling  ground,   708; 

and  of  his  antagonist.  Judge  Terry,  708. 


INDEX. 


973 


Assassination  of  President  Lincoln,  at  Ford's 

Theater,  Washinc.ton,  by  J.  \V.  Booth,  887-898. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  seejirsl  page  of  this 

Krent.) 
Assassination  of  President  Jackson  attempted,  337. 
Assault  on  the  Hon.  Charles  Sumner,  by  Hon. 

Preston  S.  Brooks,  616-6J5. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Assay  of  the  earliest  found  California  gold,  501. 
Assuming  command  at  Vicksburg,  Geu.  Grant,  818. 
Assumption  bill,  passage  of  ih  :,  lUO. 
Astonishing  Feats  of  Horse-Taming  Performed 

BY  John  S.  Rakky,  7T2-779. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Astonishment  in  Europe  at  the  capture  of  the  Guerriere, 

233. 

—  produced  at  the  south  by  Whitney's  cotton-gin  in- 
vention, 15t5. 
Astor  Place  Opera-House  Riots,  New  York.  508- 

511. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
At  the  extreme  solitary  north,  536. 

"  post  of  duty,"  John  Morrissey,  684. 

Atlanta,  Ga.,  Sherman  at,  809. 
Atlantic  ocean  telegraph  cable,  laying  of  the,  993. 
Atmospheric  currents  during  the  "  Dark  Day,"  92. 
Attachment  of  the  confederate  army  to  Geu.  Lee,  883. 
Attacking    the  enemy    in    position.  Gen.    McClellan's 

army,  799. 
Attempted  Assassination  of  President  Jackson, 

AT  THE  U.  8.  Capitol,  337-344. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Attempts,  early,  to  cleanse  green  cotton-seed,  154. 
Attendance  of  Pres.  Grant  at  the  Boston  peace  jubilee, 

919. 

Moody  and  Sankey  meetings,  664. 

Atzerodt,  trial  and  execution  of,  for  conspiracy,  898. 
Audience  of  seven  thousand  people  in  Jlanchester,  Eng., 

Mr.  Beecher's,  837. 
Audiences  of  tens  of  thousands  at  the  Boston  musical 

festival,  921. 
Aurora  borealis,  magnilicent,  encompassing  the  whole 

firmament,  376. 
Austria,  burning  of  the  steamship,  673. 
Authority  for  freeing  the  slaves,  John  Brown's,  716. 
Autographic  letter  from  the  German  emperor  to  Pres. 

Grant,  967. 
Avenues  and  streets  of  the  national  capital,  planned  by 

Gen.  Washington,  171. 
AvoND.*LE  Colliery  Disaster,  730. 
A^VFUL    Explosion    of    Co.mjiodore    Stockton's 

Great   Gun,  on    Board    the    U.   S.   Steamship 

Princeton,  439-446. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

—  sublimity  of  the  great  meteoric  shower.  329. 

—  Visitation  of  the  "Angel  of  Death,"  515-522. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 


B. 

Backing  his  huge  ram  for  action.  Com.  Buchanan,  796. 
Backsliders,  temperance,  .394. 

Baffling  generals  and  armies,  Sherman's  success  in,  871. 
—  of  Burr's  plans  at  New  Orleans.  208. 
Bagging  Johnston's  whole  army,  875. 
Bailey,  Commodore,  his  naval  achievements,  860. 


Bainbridge,  Commodore,  his  stern  dealings  with  the 
Moors,  185. 

Baldwin,  the  historian,  graphic  delineation  by,  286. 

Ball-room  scenes  during  the  Prince  of  Wales'  tour,  762. 

"  Banner  of  the  Cross  "  raised  on  sliiiiboard,  423. 
" —  town."  the,  for  furnishing  men  in  the  revolution- 
ary war,  276. 

Barbarous  drama  enacted  by  the  British  army  in  Wash- 
ington, 248. 

—  encounter  between   Senator  Broderick  and  Judge 
Terry,  708. 

Barbary  States,  Punishment  and  Degradation  of,  182. 

Barclay,  Commodore,  the  veteran  cominamler  on  Lake 
Erie,  239. 

Barn-buraing  excitement  in  New  York,  414. 

Barnum,  V.  T.,  his  engagement  of  Jenny  Liiid  to  come 
to  America,  541. 

"  Baron  Kenfrew,"  title  assumed  by  the  Prince  of 
Wales,  on  his  American  tour,  7."j7. 

Barricading  the  streets  to  prevent  the  epidemic  spread- 
ing, 516. 

Bass  drum  used  at  the  Boston  peace  jubilee,  922. 

Bathing  in  the  river  Jordan,  497. 

Battle  of  Antietam,  Maryland,  798-806. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Bennington,  72. 

Bull  Run,  Va.,  between  the  Federal  Army 

under  Gen.  McDowell  and  that  of  the  South- 
ern Confederacy  under  Beauregard,  Johns- 
ton, and  Davis,  780-789. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 
" the  giants,  ••  297. 

Bay-charger  owned  by  Prince  Albert  tamed  by  Mr. 
Rarey,  776. 

Beak  or  snout  of  steel  in  the  Merrimac's  prow,  790. 

Beauregard,  Gen.,  his  demand  of  the  surrender  of  Fort 
Sumter,  765. 

Beautiful  appearance  of  the  unfortunate  Mrs.  Sickles, 
690. 

—  out-door  musical  incident  in  Jenny  Lind's  career,  547. 
Beauty  and  high  social  position  of  Mrs.  Sickles  before 

her  fall,  690. 

wondrousness  of  the  total  solar  eclipse,  202. 

— ,  loveliness— agony,  frenzy,  death,  444. 

—  of  nature  after  the  Dark  Day,  96. 
the  site  of  the  national  capital,  171. 

Before  the  duel,  scene  at  Clay's  house,  283. 

Beginning  of  the  wonderful  aurora  borealis,  384. 

Behavior  of  Burr,  on  the  dueling-ground,  192. 

Belching  forth  of  flames  from  the  Pemberton  Mills 
ruins,  724. 

Bell,  Commodore,  his  naval  achievements,  SCO. 

Beneath  tbe  oak  tree.  Gens.  Grant  and  Pemberton  sit- 
ting. 821. 

Benignity  of  Pres.  Lincoln,  Gen.  Lee's  tribute  to,  893. 

Bennington,  battle  of,  72. 

Benton's  account  of  the  nullifiers'  dinner,  321. 

—  famous  "expunging  resolution,"  373. 

Berlin,  celebr.alion  of  the  American  centennial  at,  966. 
"  Best  part  of  the  music,"  at  the  national  peace  jubilee, 

922. 
"  Bewara  of  a  Gnineaman !"  422. 
" surprise!"  Washington's  warning  to  St.  Clair, 

149. 
Bible  presented  to  the  Prince  of  Wales  by  Trinity  Church, 

N.  Y..  760. 

—  used  !it  Washington's  inauguration,  present  owners 
of,  145. 

Biblical  plates,  the  Mormon,  history  of.  307. 
Biddle,  Commodore,  his  mission  to  the  Jap.anese  govern- 
ment, 593. 


974 


INDEX. 


Biddle's  capture  of  the  British  man-of-war  Frolic,  231. 

— ,  Nicholas,  his  administration  of  the  U.  S.  Banlc,  374. 
Bill-of-lading  unprecedented,  481. 
Billows  of  inextinguishable  flame  covering  the  city  of 

Chicago,  927. 
Birds,  distraction  of,  during  the  total  solar  eclipse,  202. 
' —  of  prey  during  the  terrible  Boston  tire,  934. 
BiiiTH  Of  THE  New  Republic,  65-71. 
(For  topuial  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event ) 

,  Centennial  celebration  of  the,  951. 

Birthday  of  Jefferson,  anniversary  celebration  of  the, 

321. 
Bishop  Onderdonk's  solemn  trial,  448. 
Bitter  insult  from  Randolph  to  Clay,  283. 
"  Blacli  Hawk,"  war  with  the  Indian  chief,  147. 

—  lines  drawn  around  the   resolution  censuring  Pres. 
Jackson,  378. 

Blackburn's  Ford,  Tyler's  engagement  at,  782. 

Bhulensburg  dueling-ground,  285. 

Blandishments  of  the  Japanese  visitors  in  ladies'  society, 

739. 
Blank  cartridges  not  used  at  the  next  fire,  514. 
Blaze  of  excitement  throughout  the  country  caused  by 

John  Brown's  raid,  7J2. 
Blending  of  musical  and    architectural    beauty  in    the 

great  Boston  organ,  818. 
Blenker's  reply  to  the  order  to  retreat  at  Bull  Run,  786. 
Blennerhassett,  Burr's  companion  and  accomplice,  205; 

his  sad  fate,  210. 
Blinded  by  his  antagonist's  blow,  Broderick,  711. 
Blindfold  games  and  triumphs  in  chess  by  Paul  Morphy, 

609. 
Bliss  during  the  amputation  of  limbs.  459. 
Block  after  block  of  immense  business  palaces  destroyed 

by  the  Boston  tire,  932. 
Blood  spilled  on  the  floor  of  the  U.  S.  senate,  619. 
Blood-stains,  pirates  wiping  out,  315. 
Bloodiest  day  that  America  ever  saw,  803. 
Bloodless  campaign  of  conquest  by  Gen.  Sherman,  8G8. 
Bloodthirsliness  of  the  dueling  code,  713. 
Bloody   and    Revolting    Prize-Fight    between 

John  JMobrlssey  and  John  C.  Heenan.  681-688. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Bloomer  Cut  on  the  Union  Paciflc  railroad,  909. 
Blowing  up  Boston  houses  with  gunpowder  to  arrest  the 

fire,  932. 

Fort  Hill  at  Vicksburg,  819. 

Blows  of  the  sledge  telegraphed  to  all  the  great  cities, 

on  laying  the  last  rail  of  tlie  Pacific  road,  912. 
Blue  cockailes  and  palmetto  buttons,  323. 
Bluff  reply  of  Farragut  when  asked  to  join  the  South, 

860. 
Blunt  demand  for  the  surrender  of  New  Orleans,  Far- 

ragut's,  862. 
Boggs,  Captain,  his  naval  achievements,  860. 
Bombardment  and   reduction  of  Fort  Sumter, 

764-771. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

—  of  Tripoli,  187. 

Bombshell  in  the  camp  of  the  conspirators,  321. 

Bon  Hotnme  Richard,  description  of  the  ship,  83. 

Bonaparte,  Napoleon,  his  tribute  to  Washington's  great- 
ness, 174. 

Bones  of  California  emigrants  whitening  the  soil,  500. 

Boon  conferred  by  etherization  upon  tlie  human  race, 
457. 

Booth,  J.  "Wilkes,  his  assassination  of  Pres.  Lincoln, 
887;  his  flight,  891;  swift  and  bloody  end,  897. 

"  Booty  and  beauty,"  British  watchword  at  New  Orleans, 
263. 


Border  States,  consternation  in  the,  produced  by  Lee's 

military  plans,  826. 
Boring  petroleum  wells,  699. 
Borne    through     the   London    crowd    on   his   friends' 

shoulders,  840. 
Borrowing  a  shilling  for  his  dinner,  Elias  Howe,  jr., 

466. 

—  an  infant,  Mrs.  Cunningham's  purpose  in,  632. 
Boston,  terrible  fire  iu  the  business  heart  of,  931. 
Bottle  of  wine,  Fulton  too  poor  to  celebrate  his  inven- 
tion with  a,  216. 

Bought  a  cutfln  for  his  wife  but  was  buried  in  it  himself, 
520. 

Boundless  treasures  of  beauty  and  utility  at  the  centen- 
nial exposition,  960. 

Bowels  of  the  earth  yielding  illuminating  oil,  698. 

Boyhood  fondness  lor  horses,  Rarey's,  773. 

—  heroism  in  a  scene  of  awful  calamity,  571. 
Bradford,  David,  leader  of  the   Whiskey  Insurrection, 

162. 
Branding  pugilism  as  a  felony,  684. 
Brandishing  his  dagger  at  the  audience,  Booth,  890. 
Brandywiiie,  battle  of,  72. 
Brassy  hue  of  the  clouds.  May  19,  1780,  94. 
Brazil,  emperor  of,  his  attendance  at  the  centennial, 

952. 
Breaking  and  taming  horses,  Rarey's  wonderful  success 

in,  774. 

—  of  a  stair-r.'uling  in  a  school-house,  awful  effects  of 
the,  5i;9. 

—  Out  of  the  Temperance  Reformation,  393. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  tliis 

Event.) 
Breaking-up  of  Burr's  expedition,  207. 
Breasting  a  slorm  of  aceusati(ms,  454. 
Bribes  offered  by  Andre  for  his  release,  99. 
Bridal  chamber,  cholera  in  the,  520. 
Brief  mes.sage  of  Pres.  Jackson  to  the  South  Carolin  i 

nullifiers,  328. 
Brigbt,  John,  his  tribute  to  Cyrus  W.  Field's  enterprise, 

90G. 
Brilliant   Musical   Tour  of   Jenny   Lind,    this 

'•  Swedish  Nightingale,"  541-549. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
"  Bring  out  your  dead!  '  521. 
Bringing  Ex-President  Aiiams  to  the  bar  of  congress,  366. 

—  the  new  oil,  petroleum,  into  use,  703. 

British  admiration  of  American  nautical  strategy, 
227. 

—  officers  listening  to  the  reading  of  the  Declaratioa 
of  Independence,  68. 

—  rule  broken  in  America,  Oct.  19,  1781,  107. 
Broad  blue  pennants  in  English  waters,  741. 
Broadway,  N.   Y.,  scene  in,  during  the   grand  Kossuth 

procession,  .587. 

Broderick,  Senator,  fatally  sliot  in  a  duel  with  Judge 
Terry,  710. 

Broken  limbs  failing  to  dampen  Rarey's  enthusiasm, 
773. 

Brooklyn  court-house,  in  the  Tilton-Beecher  trial,  915. 

Brooks's  attack  on  Senator  Sumner,  616. 

Brown,  John,  his  attack  on  Harper's  Ferry,  716. 

Brnte  creation,  effect  of  the  solar  eclipse  on  the,  198. 

Bryant  vase  at  the  centennial,  959. 

Buchanan,  Com.,  plans  the  monster  Merrimac,  790. 

Buena  Vista,  Taylor's  victory  at,  488. 

Buildings  and  their  contents  at  the  centennial  exposi- 
tion, 95.')'. 

Bull  Hun,  battle  of,  780. 

Bunkcr-llill,  Lafayette's  visit  to,  278. 

Bnrdell  murder  case,  the,  626, 

Burgoyne's  grand  preparations  to  subdue  America,  73. 


INDEX. 


975 


Bcrgoyne's   Surbexder  of   nis   Army  to    Gen. 

Gates,  73-80. 
[For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  qf  this 

Kvmt.) 
Uuriul    among    the   mouutuius  at   North    Elba,    John 

Brown's,  7l!2. 

—  ot  George  Washington,  178. 
the  innocents,  574. 

Burial-grounds  engulfed  by   the   western  earthquake, 

221. 
Burke,  Fox,  and  Pitt,  eloquence  of,  on  American  affairs, 

109. 
Burning  of  one  of  the  great  oil  wells,  702. 

THE  City  of  Chicac.o,  III.,  the  Commercial 

Metropolis  of  the  North-west,  924-930. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Ecent.) 

Steamship  Austria,  on   her  avay   from 

Hamburg  to  New  York,  673-G80. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event ) 

Washington  by  the  British,  242. 

Burr,  Aaron,  conspiracy  and  trial  of,  204. 

his  fatal  duel  with  Hamilton,  189. 

melancholy  eii<l  of,  210. 

Burritt,  Eliliu,  his  apostrophe  to  Labor,  607. 
Bursting  of  the  great  "  land  bubble,"  645. 

Stockton  gun,  441. 

Burton's  theater,  New  York,  use  of,  for  prayer-meetings, 

655. 
Business  abandoned  and  cities  deserted  during  the  yel- 
low fever  contagion,  521. 
during  the  total  eclipse,  197. 

—  action  proposed  by  the  grangers,  939. 

—  and  financial  crisis,  644. 

—  portion  of  Boston  totally  destroyed  by  a  terrible  fire, 
936. 

Bustling  day  at  the  bank  counter,  649. 
Butchering  his  victims,  Gibbs,  the  pirate,  317. 
Butchery  of  Dr.  Burdell  by  his  murderer,  630. 
Butler,  Senator,  his  speech  on  Kansas  affairs,  617. 
Buying  and  leasing  petroleum  lands,  701, 
By  rail  from  New  York  to  San  Francisco  in  83  hours, 
914. 

c. 

Cabinet  consultation  over  the  emancipation  document, 
808. 

—  discussion  in  England  if  Cornwallis's  defeat,  109. 
C.ilhouu's  famous  toast,  321. 

Calif. irnia,  earthquakes  in,  224. 

—  gold  discoveries  at  Sutter's  Jlill,  500. 
— ,  pioneer  expeditions  to,  405. 

—  vigilance  committee,  reign  of  the,  550. 

Call  for  one  hundred  thousand  more  men,  Pres.  Lincoln's, 

826. 

water,  panic  in  a  school-house  caused  by  a,  568. 

Calling  the  battle-roll  of  the  Republic,  771. 
Calm  in  the  midst  of  threats  and  tumults,  303. 
Camp-ground  of  the  Second  Adventists,  Mr.  Whittier's 

visit  to  the,  438. 
Campaign  against  Vicksburg,  the  Gibraltar  of 

THE  Mississippi,  by  the    Union  Forces  under 

General  Grant,  817-825. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Canby,  Gen.,  surrender  of  confederate  army  to,  885 
Candles  in  use  during  the  celebrated  "Dark  Day,"  90. 
Cannonading  of  Vicksburg,  818. 
Canopy  of  gorgeous  crimson  flames  encircling  the  earth, 

381. 
Canvas  of  our  national  life  unrolled,  10. 


Cape  Ann,  youjig  of  the  sea-serpent  found  at,  577. 

—  Antonio,  rendezvous  of  Gibbs's  piratical  craft,  al6. 

—  llatteras  f  reciucnted  by  the  se.a-serpent,  678. 
Capital,  national,  magnificence  of,  172. 
Capitol,  national,  superb  character  of,  172. 

Washington  lays  the  corner  stone  of  the,  170. 

Capitulation  of  Gen.  Burgoyne's  Army  to  Gen. 

Gates,  72-80. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Captain  Herndon  sinking  with  his  ship,  037. 

—  Luce  in  the  hour  of  woe,  610. 

—  Wilkes  at  the  U8th  degree  of  east  longitude,  386. 
Captivity  of  American  citizens  in  Algiers,  183. 
Capture  of  Aaron  Burr,  208. 

Harper's  Ferry  by  John  Brown,  710. 

the  ass,assin  Booth  and  his  accomplice,  895. 

British  Frigate  Guerriere,  by   the  U. 

S.  Frigate  Constitution,  225-233. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Card  signed  by   Pres.  Lincoln  a  few  hours  before  his 

assassination,  889. 
Cards  and  dice  consigned  to  the  flames,  650. 

—  of  invitation  for  the  Princeton  excursion,  439. 
Career,  Capture,  and  Execution  of  Gibbs,  the 

Most  Noted  Pirate  of  the  Century,  314-319. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

—  and  fate  of  Helen  Jewett,  the  brilliant  and  depraved 
courtesan,  634. 

—  of  Aaron  Burr,  190. 

Rev.  William  Miller,  the  Advent  preacher,  432. 

Carnage  at  the  battle  of  Antietam,  803. 

Carnival  of  lawlessness  and  crime,  358. 

Carpenter,  F.  B.,  his  graphic  account  of  the  emancipa- 
tion document,  810;  his  magnificent  historical  paint- 
ing, 809. 

Carpenters'  or  Independence  Hall,  Philadelphia,  71. 

Carries  his  London  audience  by  storm,  Beecher,  843. 

Carrj'ing  all  hearts,  Mr.  Saiikey's  singing,  664. 

—  the  stars  and  stripes  to  the  furthermost  north,  539. 
Cartwright,  Peter,  the  revival  preacher,  657. 

Casting  their  children  into  the  sea  to  escape  the  flames, 

676. 
"  Casta  Diva,"  as  sung  by  Jenny  Lind,  546. 
Casual  origin  of  the  telegraph  invention,  346. 

—  revelations  of  spiritual  phenomena,  473. 
Cattle,  effect  upon,  by  the  total  solar  eclipse,  202. 
Cause  of  the  comet's  intense  brilliancy,  429. 

great  fire  in  New  York,  361. 

Causeless  raid  on  marine  property  in  time  of  war,  851. 

Cavalry  generalship  of  Kilpatrick,  873. 

Celebrities  present  at  the  inauguration  of  the  industri.^l 
exhibition,  605. 

Celestial  phenomena,  most  grand  and  brilliant  ever  be- 
held, 329. 

Cemetery  Hill,  Gettysburg,  scene  at,  during  the  battle. 
828. 

Centennial  Commemoration  of  the  Birth  of 
THE  Republic,  951-968. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Central  America,  foundering  of  the  steamer,  635. 

Centuries  of  fruitless  search  in  surgery,  457 ;  found  at 
last,  458. 

Century  of  the  republic,  glory  of  the,  8. 

Ceremonial  at  Annapolis,  Md.,  on  the  resignation  of 
Washington  as  commander-in-chief,  117. 

—  on  the  presentation  of  John  Adams,  as  minister  to 
England,  to  the  King,  121. 

Ceremony  at  the  opening  of  the  N.  Y.  World's  Fair,  605. 
Cessation  of  labor  during  the  "  Dark  Day,"  92. 


976 


INDEX. 


Cession  of  immensely  valuable  territories  by  Mexico  to 

the  U.  S.,  493. 

Cliain  of  circumstances  leading  to  Dr.  Parkman's  mur- 
derer, 525. 

Cliairs  flying  upon  the  stage— sudden  fall  of  the  curtain, 
511. 

Challenge  sent  by  Clay  to  Kandolph,  283. 
to  Hamilton  by  Burr,  192. 

"  Chamber  of  Judgment,"  the  vigilance  committee's,  551. 

'•  Champion  of  the  right  of  petition,"  the,  372. 

Championship  of  America's  cause  in  England  by  Rev. 
H.  W.  Beecher,  836. 

Change  of  temperature  during  the  total  solar  eclipse, 

201. 
the  barometer  during  the  "  Dark  Day,"  91. 

—  sought  by  the  grange  movement,  939. 

Changing   his  plan  of  operations  at  Vicksburg,  Gen. 
Grant,  819. 

Chanting  witches'  choruses  for  Mr.  Maeready,  510. 

Chapultepec  stormed  by  Gen.  Scott,  403. 

<  haracterislic  exclamation  by  John  Quincy  Adams,  372. 

Charleston,  S.  C,  batteries  erected  at,  765. 

fearful  conflagration  in,  353. 

hoisting  the  stars  and  stripes  again  in,  875. 

Charmed  observers,  millions  of,  of  the  great  auroral  spec- 
tacle, 382. 

Charnel-house  horrors  during  the  Chicago  fire,  926. 

Charter  of  the  U.  S.  Bank,  opposition  to  the,  374. 

"Charter"  vs.  "Constitution,"  408. 

Chase  of  the  Constitution  by  four  British  ships,  226. 

Cheering  each  other  amid  the  roar  of  the  waves,  608. 

Chemical  and  other  characteristics  of  the  Dead  Sea,  498. 

Chepachet,  gathering  of  armed  forces  at,  412. 

Cherbourg,  combat  between  the  Kearsarge  and  Alabama 
at,  852;  tactics  of  the  two  vessels,  855. 

Cherokee  Indians,  war  with  the,  147. 

Chess  performances  by  Paul  Morphy,  666. 

Chicago,  111.,  burning  of,  in  1871,  924. 
,  the  Prince  of  Wales's  visit  to,  757. 

Chickahominy,  campaign  of  the,  878. 

Childhood's  words  in  scenes  of  mortal  anguish,  5C9. 

"  Child's  play,"   term    used   by  Clay    at  the    dueling- 
ground,  287. 

Chimerical  railroad  schemes,  645. 

Cliiming  the  city  bells  at  the  Boston  peace  jubilee,  918. 

Choice  of  George  VV'ashington  as  Commander-in-Chief, 
113. 

Choral  combinations  at  the  national  musical  festival,  917. 

"Christian  dogs"  in  Algiers,  American  liberation  of, 
187. 

Christmas  gift  to  President  Lincoln,  Gen.   Sherman's, 
875. 

Cilley,  Hon.  Jona.,  fatally  shot  in  a  duel  with  Graves, 
713. 

Cincinnati  and  Chicago,  during  the  great  awakening,  654. 
— ,  ovation  to  the  Prince  of  Wales  at,  758. 

Circuit  of  the  comet,  round  the  sun,  427. 
travel  accomplisbetl  by  Fremont,  405. 

Circumnavigation  and  survey  of  the  Dead  Sea,  496. 

Circumstances  under  which  the  electric  telegraph  was 
discovered,  316. 

Circumst mtial  description  of  the  sea-serpent  by  a  clergy- 
niini,  576. 

Citizenship  conferred  upon  the  freed  slaves.  815. 

—  restored  to  Thos.  W.  Dorr,  in  Rhode  Island,  413. 
Ciudad  de  los  Angclos  taken  jiossession  of,  407. 
Civil  war  inaugurated  in  the  United  States,  764. 
Clarke,  Billy,  originator  of  the  first  temperance  society, 

393. 
Clasping  each  other  .and  jumping  into  the  ocean  together, 

676. 
Clay,  Henry,  his  duel  with  John  Randoliih.  'JS2. 
Clear  sky  during  the  great  September  gule,  265. 


Clerical  callers  on  John  Brown  in  jail,  721. 

Clermont,  the  name  of  Fulton's  first  steam-boat,  216. 

Cbmax  of  enthusiasm  at  the  peace  jubilee,  918. 
—  the  total  solar  eclipse,  201. 

'^-linton's.  Gen.,  unsuccessful  effort  to  relieve  Burgoyne, 
77. 
wanton  destruction  of  property,  77. 

Clothing  and  ornaments  worn  by  the  Japanese  ambassa- 
dors, 733. 
■  Cobb's,  Judge,  reply  to  a  Massachusetts  mob,  125. 

Cockburn,  Admiral,  his  beastly  degradation  at  Washing- 
ton, 249. 

Coffee  instead  of  rum  for  Farragut's  men,  866. 

Coflin,  C.  C,  his  account  of  Lincoln's  reception  in  Rich- 
mond, 883. 

Cold-water  armies  and  processions,  398. 

Coliseum  at    Boston  for  the  peace  jubilee,  appearance 
of  the,  916. 

Collection  and  use  of  rock  oil  by  the  Indians  in  olden 
times,  699. 

College  named  in  honor  of  Lafayette,  281. 

Colliery  disaster  at  Avondale,  Penn.,  730. 

Collision  of  the  steamers  Arctic  and  Vesta,  608. 

Color  of  objects  during  the  "  Dark  Day,"  91. 
the  sea-serpent,  578. 

Colors  by  the  score  taken  at  Antietam,  804. 

Colt,  John  C,  murder  of  Samuel  Adams  by,  531. 

Column  or  area  of  destruction  during  the  great  gale, 
268. 

Combat  between  the  Alabama,  Captain  Semmes, 

AND     THE     KEAK.SARGE,     CaPTAIN     WiNSLOW,    OFF 

Cherbourg,  851-858. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Combinations  in  the  interests  of  labor,  9.38. 

Combustibles  all  around  on   the  breaking  out  of  the 
Chicago  fire,  925. 

Combustion  caused  by  hot  tar  on  board   the  ill-fated 
Austria,  674. 

Comet  of  1843,  sudden  appearance  of  the  425. 

Coming  alongside  her  antagonist,  the  Constitution,  228. 

Commemoration  of  the  nation's  centennial,  960. 

Commencement  of  the  difiiculties  between  Forrest  and 
Maeready,  509. 
national  executive  government,  under  Washing- 
ton, 143. 

Commerce  of  all  nations,  the,  devastated  by  the  pirate 
Gibbs.  317. 
the  North  ravaged  by  the  Alabama,  854. 

Commercial  palaces  in  Boston  destroyed  by  Are,  sixty- 
five  acres  of,  936. 

Commingling  of  horrible  sights  and  sounds  in  the  Pem- 
berton  Mills  ruins,  724. 

Commission  ol>tained    by  Gen.  WalKer  as  Nicaraguan 
commander-in-chief  750. 

Commissioners  to  France  in  behalf  of  the  American 
Cause,  70. 

Committee  appointed  at  Phila.,  to  draft  the  Declaration 
of  Indpi>endence,  66. 

—  appointed  to  investigate  the  spirit  rappings  474. 
Communications  between  the  old  world  and  the  new  by 

telegraphy,  904. 
Company  formed  for  consummating  tbo  ocean  telegraph 
enteri)rise,  901. 

—  of  monarchs  and  princes  at  Rarey's  horse-taming 
exhibition,  775. 

Comparison  of  the  Chicago  and  Boston  fires,  936. 
Competitors  all  distanc(?d  by  the  yaclit  America,  ,565. 

COMPLF.TION   OF  THF,    PACIFIC   RAILROAD,   907-914. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Complications  between  England  and  America  caused  by 
the  Alabama,  851. 


INDEX. 


977 


Conipliineiilarj'  tribute  from  Cornwallis  to  Gen.  Wash- 
ington. 111. 

Coiiiplinientiiig  his  guest's  temperance  principle,  Wash- 
ington, 401. 

Compliments  to  Mr.  Field,  the  projector  of  the  ocean 
telegraph.  001. 

Composure  of  Prof.  Webster  during  his  trial  for  murder, 
5-2S. 

Compromise  bill  originated  by  Mr.  Clay,  325- 

Computations  of  the  comet's  orbit,  425. 

Concentration  of  the  contending  armies  at  Gettysburg, 
Pa.,  827. 

Conceptions  in  military  strategy,  Sherman's  unequaled, 
878. 

Concert  by  Jenny  Lind  at  Castle  Garden,  her  tirst  in 
America,  5-16. 

ten  tliousand  children  during  the  Boston  peace 

jubilee,  921. 

Concurrence  of  testimony  relating  to  the  sea  serpent, 
577. 

Condemnatory  resolution,  passage  of,  against  Pres.  Jack- 
son, 375. 

Conduct  of  Washington  on  being  named  as  commander- 
in-chief,  113. 

Conference  between  Commodore  Perry  and  the  Japan- 
ese oflioials,  596. 

—  in  Canada,  John  Brown's,  715. 
Confession  of  his  crime  by  Spencer,  420. 

,  Gibbs's,  315;  his  execution,  319. 

—  of  Mrs.  Tilton,  946;  her  retracting  the  same,  947. 
Confidence  fortunately  misplaced,  416. 

"  Confidence,"  in  hard  times,  a  Frenchman's  idea  of, 
645. 

Confident  of  victory,  Capt  Semmes,  855. 

Configuration  of  the  Dead  Sea  determined  by  Ameri- 
can surveys,  497. 

Conflagration  and  suicide  instead  of  an  execution,  in 
Colt's  case,  531. 

—  in  the  business  heart  of  Boston,  931. 

—  of  1835,  as  viewed  from  Coenties  Slip,  357. 
Conflict  of  testimony  in  the  Beecher  trial,  948. 
Congratulatory  reply  to  Washington,  in  congress,  on  his 

resigning  his  commission,  117. 
Congress  driven  from  its  halls  in  1783,  167. 
— ,  fate  of  the  frigate,  791. 
— ,  first  session  of,  at  Washington,  171. 
Congressional  temperance  society.  394. 
Connecticut  legislature,  session  of,  during  the  "  Darli 

Day,"  90. 
coxqaest  and  burning  of  washington  by  the 

British,  242-249. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Consents  to  examine  some  documents  in  the  cabin,  749. 
Conservatory,  beauty  of  the  centennial,  957. 

CONSPIRACV  AND  TRIAL  OF  AARON  BURR,  204-211. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

—  to  murder  all  the  chief  otficers  of  the  government, 
887. 

Consternation  in  England,  on  Cornwallis's  surrender, 

108. 
Constituting  the  first  Mormon  church,  309. 
Constitution,  capture  of  the  Guerriere  by  the   frigate, 

225. 

CONSTITUTION,  FEDERAL,  FORMATION  AND  ADOP- 
TION OF  THE,   132. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Construction  of  a  steam-boat  by  Fulton,  214. 

the  N.  Y.  Crystal  Palace,  602. 

Consummate  generalship  displayed  by  Jackson  at  New 
Orleans,  257. 

62 


Consummation  of  all  temporal  things  predicted,  432. 
Contemplated  arrest  of  Calhoun  by  Pres.  Jackson,  324. 
Contempt  of  Americans  for  Japanese  etiquette,  594. 
Contents  of  the  tea-chest,  vault,  and  furnace,  in  Prof. 

Webster's  apartments,  525, 
Continent,  the  Antarctic,  seen  by  the  U.  S.  exploring  ex- 
pedition, 390. 

— s  connected  by  a  vast  and  lofty  ice-wall,  536. 
Contrast  between  Clay  and  Kandolj)]!,  1:86. 
Control  of  the  key  to  the  public  funds,  375. 
Convention  at  Philadelphia  for  framing  the  Constitution, 
133. 

— ,  extraordinary,  of  American  bishops,  448. 
Conversation  between  John  Brown  and  his  jailor,  721. 

King  George  and  John  Adams,  123. 

Midi  aipman  Spencer  and  his  commander,  417. 

the  &.-»assin  Booth  and  his  captors.  897. 

—  with  Morrissey  after  the  prize-fight,  680 ;  his  idea  as 
to  a  seat  in  congress,  687. 

Pres.  Lincoln  on  the  evening  of  the  tragedy,  889 

Senator  Broderick  in  his  dying  hour,  711. 

Conversions  of  infidels  and  pugilists  during  the  revival, 

659. 
Convulsions  of  nature  during  the  western  earthquake, 

220. 
Conway,  Gen.,  his  intrigues  against  Gen.  Washington,  79. 
Cool  delay  of  Hull  in  commencing  his  action  with  the 

Guerriere,  232. 
Coolness  of  Gen.  Walker  on  marching  to  the  place  of  exe- 
cution, 755. 
Cooper.  J.  Fenimore,  his  opinion  of  John  Paul  Jones's 

naval  victory,  81. 
Co-operation  of  eminent  men  in  the  temperance  move- 
ment, 394. 
Co-operative  system  proposed  by  the  grangers,  939. 
Coral  characteristics  of  the  petroleum  regions,  705. 
Corbett,  Boston,  the  slaj'er  of  J.  Wilkes  Booth,  890. 
Corliss  engine,  Pres.  Grant  and  Emperor  Dora  Pedro 

starting  the,  954, 
Corner-stone  of  the  U.  S.  capitol,  laying  of  the,  170. 
Cornet  quartet  band  of  the  Emperor  William,  923. 
Cornwallis  surrenders  his  Splendid  Army  to 

Gen.  Washington,  104-111. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Coronation  of  labor,  the,  607. 
Corpse.    Washington's,    re-interment   and  appearance 

of,  in  1837,  178. 
Correcting  bank  mistakes,  289. 
Correspondence,  final,  between  Grant  and  Lee,  882, 
Corruscations  in  the    atmosphere,  during  the    "Dark 

Day,"  92. 
Corsairs  of  Barbary,  piratical,  driven  from  the  ocean, 

182. 
Cortege  of  Pres.  Lincoln's  rema'us  through  the  North 

and  West,  894. 
Cotton-gin,  invention  of  the,  153. 

Countenances  of  the  two  duelists  on  the  fatal  field,  709, 
Counterfeit  petitions  sent  to  congress,  367. 
Courage  at  the  battle  of  New  Orleans,  262. 
Course  of  the  total  solar  eclipse,  199. 
Court,  Whitney's  cotton-gin  in,  158. 
Court-scene  during  Burr's  trial,  210. 
Courtesies  between  Jenny  Lind  and  Daniel  Webster,  548. 
the  victor  and  the  vanquished  of  the  prize-ring, 

686. 

—  in  old  age  between  Adams  and  Jefferson,  295. 

—  of  the  British  general  to  Mrs.  Madison,  248. 
Courting  <he  embrace  of  death,  615. 

Courts  of  justice  threatened  by  Massachusetts  rebels, 

128. 
"  Cradle  of  Liberty,"  or  Faneuil  Hall,  in  Boston,  963. 
Craft  and  cunning  of  Santa  Anna  in  warfare,  488, 


978 


INDEX. 


Crash,  sudden  and  universal,  in  the  commercial  world, 

eso. 

Crawford's  grand  charge  at  Gettysburg,  831. 
Creek  war  of  1814,  147. 

Crest  of  South  Mountain,  the  troops  at  the,  799. 
Crew  of  the  Constitution,  tribute  to  the,  229. 

steamer  Arctic  deserting  the  ship,  615. 

Crippled  at  last,  the  monster  ram,  864. 

Crisis  in  the  business  and  financial  world,  644. 

life  of  Mr.  Calhoun,  327. 

—  of  public  affairs  after  the  revolutionary  war,  132. 
Critical  point  in  the  battle  on  Lake  Champlain,  255. 
Crops,  singular  effect  of  the  Sept.  gale,  1815,  on  the, 

269. 
Crowned  heads  admiring  American  mechanical  genius, 

742. 
Crowning  glory  of  Gen.  Jackson's  civil  life,  378. 
Cruise,  memorable,  of  the  frigate  Constitution,  226. 
'"Cruiser,"  Rarey's  management  of  the  furious  horse 

known  as,  774. 
Crushed  within  the  coils  of  Sherman's  resistless  columns, 

873. 
Crystal   bridge    connecting    America    and   Greenland, 

536. 

—  Palace,  New  York,  exhibition  in  the,  600. 
Culmination   of   the   Forrest   and    Macready   dispute, 

508. 

sectional    antagonism    produced   by   slavery, 

764. 
Cumberland,  army  of  the,  reunion  of  at  Philadelphia, 
955. 

—  piercing  and  sinking  of  the  frigate,  792. 
Cunningham,  Mrs  ,  her  trial  for  the  murder  of  Dr.  Bur- 

dell,  626. 
•*Cup  of  All  Nations,"  the,  won   by  the  Americans, 

565. 
Curiosities  of  telegraphic  science  in  connection  with  the 

cable,  904. 
Curtain  of  rich  and  gorgeous  colors  covering  the  earth, 

383. 
Cushraan,  Charlotte,  recites  the  ode  at  the  inauguration 

of  Boston  organ.  849. 
Custis's  account  of  Washington's  last  hours,  175. 
Customs  and  theories  in  business,  changes  sought  by  the 

grangers  in,  910. 

—  initiated  at  the  first  presidential  inauguration,  144. 
Cut-throats  baude4  together    against  society  in  Cali- 
fornia, 550. 

Cutting  off  Lee's  hope  of  retreat,  Gen.  Grant,  881. 


D. 


-Jacres,  Captain,  his  insolent  challenge  to  the  American 

navy,  228. 
Damages  of  .$100,000  sought  by  Mr.  Tilton,  946. 
Dancing  with  the  Prince  of  Wales,  763. 
Daniel  and  John,  the  basis  of  Miller's  second  advent 

conclusions,  434. 
Danville,    Jeff.  Davis    setting   up  his  government  at, 

884. 
D  irk  case  for  Mrs.  Cunningham  in  court,  631. 
Dark  Day  ix  all  New  England,  May  19, 1780, 89. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  par/e  of  this 

Event.) 
Darkest  page  in  the  history  of  the  country,  887. 
Darkne.'^s  during  the  total  solar  eclipse,  197. 
Data  exh. biting  our  prodigious  n.'itlonal  growth,  8. 
"Daughter  of  tlie  Regiment,"  Jenny  Lind  as  the,  543. 
Davis,  Jefferson,  at  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  787. 
,  his  flight  from  Richmond,  884;  his  capture,  884; 

a  prisoner  at  Fortress  Monroe,  884. 
Dawn  of  peace  and  universal  joy,  887. 


Day-break  scene  at  Harper's  Ferry,  Oct.  17,  1859,  716. 
Dazzling  ice-wall  of  boundless  dimensions,  536. 

—  magnificence  of  the  gifts  to  Paul  jMorphy,  069. 

—  representations  of  his  schemes,  Burr's,  205. 
Dead  and  living  floating  together,  6o8. 

—  Sea  and  River  Jordan,  expedition  to,  494. 

Deadly    encounter   between    Hon.   Messrs.   Cilley  and 
Graves,  712. 

Deafening  acclamations  at  the  result  of  the  Lake  Cham- 
plain  battle,  256. 

Dealing  with  the  savages,  Wilkes's   exploring   party, 
392. 

Death  of  Alexander  Hamilton,  195. 

Death  of  George  Wa.shixgton,  174-181. 
For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event ) 

Death-bed  scenes  and  incidents,  Pres.  Lincoln's,  891. 

Death-knell  of  Indian  power  in  America,  152. 

Debate  between  Webstar  and  Hayne,  297. 
— s  in  the  convention  for  forming  the  Federal  Constitu- 
tion, 136. 

Decanters  relieved  of  their  contents,  394. 

Decatur,  Commodore,  his  new  style  of  "  tribute,"  182. 

December  16,  1835,  night  of,  memorable  in  N.  Y.,  353. 

Deciding  the  fate  of  the  metropolis,  245. 

Declaration    of    Independence  and    National 
Sovereignty,  65-71. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Declining  to  drink  wine  at  Washington's  table,  401. 

Decomposition  of   marine    plants    causing  petroleum, 
705. 

Decoy -letter  sent  by  Washington,  107. 

Dedicating  ceremonies  at  the  Bull  Run  memorial  monn- 
ment,  788. 

Dedication  of  "  Our  First  Century,"  7. 

Deep-laid  plot  to  convert  the  U.  S.  Brig  Somers  into  a 
pirate,  415. 

—  rod  appearance  of  the  snow,  in  Nov.,  1837,  380. 
Defeat  of  the  British  on  their  favorite  element,  256. 
Defending  his  country's  cause  in  England,  Rev.  H.  W. 

Beecher,  836. 

—  the  right  of  petition  in  congress,  368. 

Defiance  of  the  British  Empire  by  her  Youngest  Colo- 
nies, 65. 

Degradation  of  the  Barbary  States  by  the  Young  Repub- 
lic, 182. 

DeHaven,  Lieut,  p.  J.,  his  command  of  the  Advance 
and  Rescue,  534. 

Deistic  views  of  Wm.  Miller,  ir)  his  parly  life,  432. 

DeKalb's  grave,  visit  of  Washington  and  Lafayette  to, 
278. 

Delaware,  passage  of  the,  by  Washington,  114. 

Delegates  to  the  convention  for  framing  the  Federal 
Constitution,  134. 

Delightful  responsive  warbling  between  Jenny  Lind  and 
an  out-door  bird,  547. 

Deliverer  among  the  delivered,  884. 

Demonstrations  along  the  route  of  Fulton's  first  steam- 
boat, 214. 

Demoralization  of  the  Union  troops  at  Bull  Run,  786. 

Demosthenes  and  Webster  compared,  2!I7. 

Denmark  acknowledges  the  independence  of  the  U.  S., 
71. 

Denunciation  of  the  U.  S.  whiskey  tax.  160. 

Denunciatory  debate  in  congress  against  John  Quincy 
Adams,  3i;5. 

Departure  of  Lafayette  from  America,  281. 
the  Great  Eastern  for  the  western  world.  744. 

Depositions  of  numerous  eye-witnesses  of  the  sea-ser- 
pent, 577. 

Depth  and  density  of  darkness,  May  19,  1780,  94. 

Deputations  from  all  parts  of  the  land  to  Kossuth,  r88. 


INDEX. 


979 


De  Rochambeau,  Count,  extolled  by  the  American  peo- 
ple, 110. 

Descent  into  an  extinct  volcano,  .'iSO. 

Descripliou  of  the  uiagniticent  centennial  exposition, 
955. 

scene  in  parliament   when  American  Inde- 
pendence was  acknowledged,  120. 

Desolation  of  all  New  England  by  the  great  September 
gale,  270. 

Desperate  midnight  movement  by  Cornwalli?,  106. 

Desperation  and  death  during  the  tire  in  Chicago,  926. 

Despotic  power  of  Bradford,  the  Penn.  insurrectionist, 
over  his  followers,  165. 

Destinies  of  the  Republic  changed,  616. 

Destructive  effect  of  the  Merrimac's  movements  in 
Hampton  Roads,  792. 

Details  of  the  great  organ  erected  in  Boston,  816. 

Detection  of  Andre's  character  as  a  spy,  99. 

Detective  skill,  Col.  Baker's,  in  capturing  Booth,  894. 

Determination  not  to  harm  Burr,  Hamilton's,  194. 

—  of  the  Young  Republic  to  punish  the  piratical  pow- 
ers, 183. 

Development  among  all  nations  of  "  spiritual"  phenom- 
ena, 472. 

Devotion  of  Theodosia,  Burr's  daughter,  to  her  father, 
210. 

Diabolical  conspiracy  of  Booth  and  his  accomplices,  887. 

Diameter  of  the  comet's  bright  nucleus,  429. 

Diary,  last  entrance  in  Washington's,  175. 

Different  tastes  and  preferences  consulted  in  this  vol- 
ume, 11. 

—  temperaments  of  jurymen  illustrated,  696. 
Dignity  of  the  members  comprising  the  convention  for 

forming  the  Federal  Constitution,  133. 

Dimensions  of  the  most  superb  organ  in  America,  845. 
sea-serpent,  580. 

Dinner-party  account  of  Lee'S  surrender,  Gen.  Grant's, 
882. 

Diplomatic  conferences  with  the  Japanese,  597. 

Dipping  her  colors  to  the  Queen,  .566. 

Dire  apprehension  of  impending  calamity,  322. 

Direction  of  the  terrible  Sept.  gale,  270. 

Dirge  and  requiem  fill  the  land,  at  Pres.  Lincoln's  death, 
892. 

Disabling  of  the  monster  craft  Merrimac  by  the  Moni- 
tor, 795. 

Disagreement  in  the  Tilton-Beecher  case,  950. 

Disappointed  expectations  at  Lake  Champlain,  252. 

Disappointment  of  Miller,  the  Second  Advent  preacher, 
437. 

Disastrous  defeat  of  the  Union  army  at  Bull  Run,  786. 

Disavowal  of  partisan  aims  by  the  grangers,  910. 

Disc  of  the  sun  seen  during  the  "  Dark  Day."  93. 

Discharging  his  pistol  into  the  air,  Randolph,  in  the 
duel,  288. 

Disciplinary  sentence  passed  on  the  Bishop  of  Penn., 
448. 

Discountenancing  the  practice  of  dueling,  Henry  Clay, 
707. 

Discouragement  of  the  cotton-gin  invention  by  British 
manufacturers,  156. 

Discouraging  Lafayette's  American  scheme.  273. 

Discovery  of  Gold  at  Sutter's  Mill,  Cali- 
fornia, 500-507. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

prodigious  quantities  of  illuminating  oil  in  the 

depths  of  the  earth,  698. 

Discovery  of  the  Inhalation  of  Ether  as  a 
Preventive  of  Pain,  456-403. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Discretion  the  better  part  of  valor,  252. 


Discussions  in  a  shop  on  a  proposed  invention,  465. 

Disguise  of  Burr  on  his  flight,  209. 

Dismay  in  the  Mexican  capital  at  Scott's  approach,  491. 

—  of  the  brute  creation  during  the  •'  Dark  Day,"  89. 
Disaieniberment  of  the  British  realm  by  the  separation 

of  the  colonies,  120. 
Union,  inauguration  of  war  for  the,  764. 

Dispatch  from  Commodore  Perry,  234. 
Gen.  Washington  announcing  Cornwallis's  sur- 
render, 104. 

Dispersion  of  Gov.  Dorr's  forces  at  Chepachet,  413. 

Display  by  the  U.  S.  Government  at  the  centennial, 
957. 

Disruption  of  the  polar  ice-fields  on  the  advent  of  the 
sun,  535. 

Dissolution  ot  the  Union,  the,  petition  for,  367. 

Dissuading  Pres.  Jackson  from  extreme  anli-nuUifica- 
tion  measures,  324. 

Distillers,  Penn.  whiskey,  defiance  of  the  U.  S.  tax  col- 
lectors by,  162. 

Distinct  and  leisurely  view  of  the  sea-serpent,  578. 

Distributing  the  Jamestown's  cargo,  485. 

District  of  Columbia,  corner  ttoue  of,  170. 

Disunion  banners  raised  all  over  the  South,  764. 

—  sternly  rebuked  by  Pres.  Jackson,  321. 
Doctor  Burdell  found  dead  by  his  office-boy,  026. 
Doing  honor  to  the  memory  of  Bishop  Onderdonk,  455. 
Dom  Pedro,  emperor  of  Brazil,  at  the  centennial,  952. 
Dome  of  the  crystal  palace,  its  unrivaled  beauty,  003. 

N.  Y.  Merchants'  Exchange,  its  fall  in  the  great 

fire,  355. 
Doniphan's  march  of  five  thousand  miles,  488. 
"  Don't  give  up  the  ship,"  Perry's  motto  on  Lake  Erie, 

234. 
"  Don't  know  when  they  are  whipped!  "  871. 
'•  Don't  shoot  me !  " — last  words  of  Key,  692. 
'•Don't  tread  on  me!"— motto  on  first  American  naval 

flag,  82. 
Dorr,  Thomas  W.,  leader  of  the  rebellion  in   Rhode 

Island,  408. 
Double  execution  of  criminals  in  San  Francisco,  554. 

—  ironing  the  mutineers,  417. 

—  sweep  of  the  comet's  tail,  425. 
Doubleday,  Gen.,  in  the  battle  of  Antietam,  799. 
Downfall  of  our   nation  predicted  by  foreign  states- 
men, 8. 

Downie,  Captain,  his  command  of  the  British  navy  on 

Lake  Champlain,  251. 
Doxology  at  Fort  Sumter,  singing  the,  886. 
Drafting  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  295. 

emancipation  pioclamation,  Pres.  Lincoln,  809. 

Dramatic  interview  between  Marshall,  the  gold-finder, 

and  Sutter,  his  employer,  504. 
Dramatis  personse   presented   in  this  volume,  variety 

of,  13. 
Drawing  his  lines  about  the  enemy,  Sherman,  869. 
Dream  of  Pres.  Lincoln  preceding  battles,  888. 
Dress  of  Daniel  Webster  on  state  occasions,  302. 

—  worn  by  Washington  at  his  inauguration,  144. 
Drink  of  grog,  a,  stipulated  for  in  Washington's  hand- 
writing, 397. 

Drinking  each  other's  health,  Webster  and  Hayne,  305. 

Driving  the  enemy  en  manse,  799. 
last  spike  on  the  Pacific  railroad,  911. 

Dropping  of  a  bomb  in  money  circles,  645. 

Drowning  preferred  to  death  by  burning,  675. 

Dublin,  celebration  of  the  American  centennial  at, 
965. 

Duel  between  Henry  Clay,  Secret.^ry  of  State, 
and  John  Randolph,  U.  S.  Senator  from  Vir- 
ginia, 282-290. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 


9S0 


INDEX. 


Duel  between  Cilley  and  Graves,  712. 

Senator  Brodeiick  and  Judge  Terry,  707. 

Col.  Burr  and  Uen.  HiitniUon,  IK'J. 

Dupes,  Mormon,  from  all  piuts  at  tUe  world,  312. 

Duration  of  the  tutal  solar  eclipse,  198. 

Dutch  method  of  dealing  with  Japan,  5912. 

Dwight,  President  Timothy,  his  prediction  concerning 

Calhoun,  324. 
Dying  declaration  of  an  accused  bishop,  448. 

—  in  his  country's  capitol,  John  Quiucy  Adams,  372. 

—  message  of  the  assassin  Booth  to  his  mother,  896. 

—  within  hearing,  but  hopeless  of  succor,  724. 

—  words  of  John  Adams,  295. 


E. 


Each  moment  an  hour— waiting  for  the  jury  to  come  in, 

694. 
Eager  forthe  march  to  the  North,  Lee's  army,  826. 
Earle,  A.  B.,  the  revival  preacher,  057. 
Early  days  of  telegraphing.  352. 

—  predictions  concerning  ocean  telegraphy,  899. 
Earthquake  phenomena  at  sea,  220. 

— s  in  the  United  States,  218. 
Easton,  Pa.,  college  at,  named  in  honor  of  Lafayette, 

281. 
Easy  basis  of  the  first  temperance  society,  393. 
Ebb  of  his  vital  spirit,  Pres.  Lincoln's,  892. 
Ecclesiastical  coincidences  of  a  remarkable  character, 

449. 

—  government  of  the  Mormon  sect,  309. 

Eclat  gained  by  America  in  the  great  international 
regatta,  558. 

—  of  the  great  World's  Fair,  600. 
national  peace  jubilee,  921. 

Eclipse  of  the  sun,  total,  at  mid-day,  196. 

Edmonds  and  Dexter,  their  investigations  of  "  spirit " 
phenomena,  477. 

Edwards,  Pres.  Jonathan,  grandfather  of  Aaron  Burr, 
190. 

Efficiency  of  Jackson's  defensive  fireparations  at  New 
Orleans,  258. 

Efforts  by  firemen  to  save  the  N.  Y.  Merchants'  Ex- 
change, 355. 

—  to  change  the  Japnnese  restrictive  policy,  597. 
save  Andre's  life,  102. 

Egypt's  contribution  to  the  centennial,  955. 

Eight  hundred  buildings  burned  in  the  great  fire,  936. 

—  thousand  horse-power  of  the  Great  Eastern,  746. 
machines  moved  by  one  engine,  954. 

Eighteen  million  dollars,  loss  of,  in  the  N.  Y.  fire,  356. 

—  thousand  buildings  destroyed  by  the  fi.re  in  Chicago, 
929. 

—  yachts  at  the  international  regatta,  561. 

pounder,  an,  crosses  Burgoyne's  table,  while  he  is  in 

council,  78. 
Eighth  of  January,  the,  at  New  Orleans,  260. 
Eighty-five  million  dollars'  value  lost  in  the  Boston  fire, 

936. 
one  out  of  eighty-four  games  w6n  by  Morphy  at  the 

Chess  Congress,  GG7. 
Edition  over  the  verdict  in  the  Sickles  case,  695. 
Elbowing  her  way  to  the  bank  counter,  G49. 
Eldest  son  of  Queen  Victoria  visiting  the  U.  S.,757. 
Election  and  Ixauguiiation,  First,  of  a  Pbesi- 

dent  of  the  united  states,  139-145. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Electric  experiments,  Franklin's,  346. 

—  telegraph,  invention  of  the,  345. 
Electricity  aiding  musical  performances,  918. 


Elegant  appearance  of  'Washington  at  his  inauguration, 

144. 
Eleven  days'  contest,  single-handed,  in  congress,  J.  Q. 
Adams's,  370. 
—  terrible  rounds  in  a  twenty-two  minutes  prize-fight, 

08  i. 
Emanation  of  the  remarkable  meteoric    shower   from 

one  point,  331. 
Emancipation  of  the  slaves  proclaimed  by  Pres.  Lin- 
coln, 8U7. 
Embassy  in  ISCO  from  the  Empire  of  Japan,  732, 
Embalming  Pres.  Lincoln's  body,  893. 
Embarkation  of  the  polar  expedition,  387. 
Embellishment  of  this  volume,  profuse  and  costly,  14. 
Emblematic  decorations  at  the  Boston  peace  jubilee, 

beauty  of,  916. 
Embodiment  of  various  perfections  in  the  great  Boston 

organ,  847. 
Emigrants  pouring  into  the  oil  regions,  703. 
Emperor  and  president  side  by  side  at  the  centennial, 

952. 
Emphatic  denial  of  guilt  by  Bishop  Onderdonk,  452. 
Empire    at    the    south-west,  contemplated   by   Burr, 
204. 

— s  of  the  past,  greatness  of  our  republic  compared  with 
the,  8. 
Employment  of  the  Great  Eastern  for  conveying  the 

ocean  telegraph  cable,  901. 
Emulation  in  international  exhibitions,  600. 
Enchanting  record  of  adventure  in  the  far  north-west, 

404, 
Enchantment  of  Jenny  Lind's  voice.  548. 
Encomium  upon  Massachusetts  by  Mr.  Webster,  301. 
Encompassed  for  months  by  Grant's  army,  the  confed- 
erate capital,  877. 
Encores  and  showers  of  bouquets  at  Jenny  Lind's  con- 
certs, 546. 
End  of  Tecumseh,  the  famous  Indian  chief,  241. 

the  world  looked  for,  May  19,  1780,  89. 

Energetic  course  of  Washington  in  suppressing  Shays'3 

rebellion,  127. 
Enfranchisement  added  to  freedom,  816. 
Engagements  with  the   whiskey  insurgents    in  Penn., 

163. 
Engine-house  at  Harper's  Ferry,  occupation  of  the,  by 

John  Brown,  717;  stormed  by  the  U.  S.  troops,  718. 
Engineering  feats  involved  in  the  Pacific  railway  con- 
struction, 910. 
Engines  sent  from  seven  States  during  the  Chicago  fire, 

927. 
England  refuses  to  harbor  Aaron  Burr,  210. 
English  opinion  of  the  capture  of  the  Guerriere,  225. 
—  soldiers  eating  dinner  at  the  White  House,  248. 
Engulfing  of  hundreds  of  souls  in  a  sudden  and  watery 

grave,  009. 
Enshrinement  of   the  great  Boston  organ  in  a  case, 

847. 
Entering  the  city  of  Vicksburg,  Union  troops,  823. 
Entertaining  the  Japanese  officials,  598. 
Entire  impartiality,  religious  and  political,  of  this  vol- 
ume, 13. 
Entrance  of  the  American  army  into  the  Mexican  capi- 
tal, 493. 

British  army  into  Washington,  246. 

Epidemics,  eras  of,  in  America,  516. 
Equal  to  the  destitdes  of  the  moment,  300. 
EiiEirrioN  AND  Inauguration  of  the  Great  Or- 
gan IN  THE  Boston  Music  Hall,  844-850. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  qf  this 

Event.) 
Ericsson's  construction  of  the  world- renowned  Monitor, 

7i)3. 
Erring,  but  forgiven  and  redeemed,  696. 


INDEX. 


981 


Escaping  from  chamber-windows  during  the  gale  and 
flood,  UtiG. 

—  the  just  penalties  of  crime,  633. 
p:spy.  the  "  storm  king,"  348. 

Kspying  tlie  gun-boat's  signal,  Sherman's  joy  on,  874. 
Ksquiniaux,  Dr.  Hayes  dealing  with  the,  540. 
E.stablisliment  of  the  Kepublic  on  a  permanent  founda- 
tion, 137. 
Eternal  snows  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  405. 
European  admiration  of  General  Washington,  179. 

—  war  veterans  selected  for  operations  in  America, 
2(53. 

Evarts,  W.  M.,  orator  at  the  Philadelphia  celebration, 

9(i(). 
Es'ents  in  our  first  century,  great  and  memorable,  10. 
Everett,    Edward,    his   opinion    of    Webster's   speech, 

302. 
Every  adversary  vanquished  by  Morphy,  667. 

—  British  vessel  captured  on  Lake  Erie,  239. 

—  eye  on  "  the  Yankee,"  5t>0. 
"  Every  man  for  himself,"  615. 

—  officer  true  to  his  colors,  418. 

Evidence,  pro  and  co7i,  in  the  Onderdonk  case,  454. 
— s  of   awful  convulsions   in   the    Rocky    Mountains, 
404. 

"  Exactly  the  correct  thing  to  do,"  Japanese   idea  of, 
738. 

Examination  of  the  Fejee  group  by  scientific  voyagers, 
391. 

Whitney's  cotton-gin  invention  by  southern  plant- 
ers, 156. 

Example  of  Gen.  Taylor  in  favor  of  temperance,  401. 

Exasperation   of  the  Canadians  by  Benedict  Arnold, 
97 

—  produced  by  the  Mormons  at  the  West,  311. 
Exceptional  distinction  conferred  on  Lafayette  and  Kos- 
suth, 589. 

Exchange  of  compliments  between  the  Queen  of  England 

and  John  Adams,  124. 
Exclamation  of  gratitude,  Washington's,  on  receiving 

news  of  Burgoyne's  capture,  79. 

Pres.  Jackson  on  being  fired  at,  338. 

Mrs.  Sickles  on  being  discovered  in  her  guilt, 

691. 

the  Indians  on  viewing  the  comet,  425. 

Exclusion  of  all  dry  topics  from  this  volume,  11. 
Excursion  of  discovery  to  the  Cordilleras,  389. 
Execution  of  one  of  Burgoyne's  spies,  78. 
Executive  mansion  at  Washington,   first  occupied   by 

Pres.  Adams.  170. 
Exemption  of  Mr.  Ogden's  house  in  the  midst  of  the 

Chicago  fire,  930. 
Exeter  Hall,  London,  Beecher's  defense  of  his  country 

in,  839. 
Exhaustless  yield  of  petroleum,  703. 
Exhibiting  the  original  Declaration  of  Independence, 

July  4,  187(5,  967. 
Exhibition  ok  the  Ixdustuy  of  All  Nations,  in 

New  York.  GOO-607. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Exhibition  of  auroral  wonders,  unparalleled,  181. 
Exhilarating  contents  of  this  volume.  12. 
Exigency  that  caused  the  proclamation  of  emancipation, 

807. 
Exordium  oi  Webster's  speech,  300. 
Expected  Destruction  of  the  world,  431-438. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Expectations  of  short  lifo,  Washington's,  175. 
Expedition  to  the  Auctic  Seas,  5.33-540. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 


E.XPEDITION  TO  THE  RiVER  JORDAN  AND  DEAD  BEA, 

491-499. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Expedition  to  the  South  Pole,  386-392. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Experience  vs.  examples,  Gen.  Sherman's  opinion  of, 

869. 
Experiences  crowded  into  one  awful  hour,  613. 
Experiments  by  Com.  Stockton  with  his   great   gun, 

446. 

—  during  the  "Dark  Day,"  94. 

Explanation  by  Mr.  Beecher  of  his  relations  with  Mrs. 
Tilton,  945. 

—  demanded  by  Clay  from  Randolph,  283. 

—  of  the  "spiritual"  manifestations,  475. 
Exploring  Expedition  to  the  South  Pole,  under 

Commander  Wilkes,  U.  S.  N.,  386-392. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Explosive  sounds  accompanying  the  meteoric  shower, 
332. 

Exportation  of  petroleum  in  immense  quantities,  703. 

Expulsion  of  John  Quincy  Adams  from  congress,  the 
threatened,  365. 

Expunging  resolution,  the,  passage  of,  in  the  U.  S.  sen- 
ate, 378. 

Exquisite  mechanism  of  the  Atlantic  telegraph  cable, 
904. 

Exquisitely  constructed  telescopes  for  the  total  solar 
eclipse,  201. 

Extending  a  welcome  to  Kossuth  on  the  floor  of  congress, 
589. 

Extension  of  popular  suffrage  sought  for  in  Rhode  Isl- 
and, 408. 

Extensive  and  Calamitous  Earthquake  at  the 
West,  218-224. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Extraordinary  Combat  between  the  Iron-Clads 
Merkimac  and  Monitor,  in  Hampton  Roads, 
789-797. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Extreme  anxiety  of  Washington  at  Ynrktnwn,  107. 

Extricating  the  buried  from  the  Pemberton  Mills  ruins, 
724. 

Exultation  at  the  news  of  the  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence, 67. 

—  over  the  completion  of  the  Pacific  railroad,  913. 
Eyes  of  the  whole  nation  riveted  on  Fort  Sumter,  765. 


F. 


Fabulous   prices   in   the    early   history  of   California, 

507. 
Facades  of  granite  in  Boston,  curious  effect  of   the  fire 

on,  935. 
Face  to  face  at  Gettysburg,  the  two  contending  armies, 
827. 

scene  between  Generals  Grant  and  Lee,  882. 

Facing  the  audience  at  the  tragical  moment,  Bouth, 

890. 
Fact  in  history  cited  by  Kossuth,  589. 
Failure  of  Cornwallis  to  reach  Gen.  Clinton,  106. 

Lawrence's   pistol-shot   to   kill    Pres.  Jackson, 

338. 

the  oldest  and  wealthiest  houses  in    the  great 

piinio,  650. 
potato  crop  in  Ireland. 


982 


INDEX. 


Fair  Columbia's  bounties  to  the  sufferers  in  Ireland,  428. 

—  play  and  a  fair  beat,  559. 

— ,  ruined,  penitent,  forgiven,  dead,  697. 
Fall  of  Richmond,  Va.,  the  Confederate  Capi- 
tal, 877-886. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Fall  of  the  Great  Pembertox  Mills  in    Law- 
rence, Mass.,  723-731. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Fall  of  Hamilton,  in  his  duel  with  Burr,  190. 
Falls  of  Delaware,  proposed  establishment  of  the  r  ation- 
al  capital  at,  168. 

—  —  Kiagara,  scene  at  during  the  meteoric  shower, 
330. 

Fame  and  fortune  to  an  inventor,  351. 

Familiarity  with  chess-moves  in  his  tenth  year,  Mor- 

phy's,  G66. 
Families  innumerable  desolated  by  the  Central  America 

disaster,  636. 
Famous  Whiskey  Insurrection  in  Pennsylvania, 

160-166. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  jiage  of  this 

Event.) 
Fantastic  mountain  scenery,  as  viewed  by  Wilkes's  party, 

388. 
Farewell    between    Benedict   Arnold    and    his   wife, 

101. 

—  to   their    leader,    Lee's    officers    teiidering    their, 
883. 

Famsworth,  Gen.,  at  Bull  Run,  788. 

Farragut,  Admiral,  his  achievements  at  New  Orleans 
and  Mobile,  800. 

Fascinating  personal  and  professional  history  of  Jenny 
Lind,  541. 

Fastening  ships  Serapis  and  Bon  Homme  Richard  to- 
gether in  combat,  86. 

Fasting  and  prayer,  day  appointed  for  by  the  president, 
on  account  of  the  pestilence,  516. 

Fatal  break  in  Lee's  lines  at  Richmond,  884. 

Fatal  Duel  between  Col.  Burr  and  Gen.  Alex- 
ander Hamilton,  189-195. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Fatal  Duel  between  Hon.  D.  C.  Broderick  and 
Hon.  D.  S.  Terry,  707-712. 

( For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Fatal  misapprehension  of  one  word,  568. 

—  mistake  of  a  Chicago  policeman,  925. 
Fate  of  the  republic  hanging  on  the  hour,  801. 
Father  Mathew's  visit  to  America,  398. 

"  Father  of  his  country,"  getting  sight  of  the,  143. 

—  of  the  republic,  tribute  to  the,  296. 
Fault  in  the  law  of  nations,  851. 

Favorable  personal  impression  made  by  Cornwallis, 
110. 

Favorite  ship  of  the  nation,  the  Constitution,  225. 

Fearful  momentum  of  the  comet's  approach  to  the  earth, 
429. 

Feast  of  inspiring  harmonies  at  the  Boston  Peace  Jubi- 
lee, 919. 

Feat  of  Burnside's  corps  at  Antietam,  802. 

Federal  Constitution,  Formation  and  Adoption 
OF,  132-138. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Federalists,  Hamilton  the  champion  of  the,  191. 

Feejee  reception  of  explorers,  391. 

Feelings  experienced  while  drowning,  611. 

Feints  successfully  made  by  Sherman  on  his  march  to 
the  sea,  871. 


Female  heroism  at  the  Pemberton  Mills  tragedy,  727 

Ferry  to  China  by  way  of  the  Pacific  railroad,  914. 

Festival  of  music  in  Boston  in  honor  of  the  return  of 
peace,  915. 

Field,  Cyrus  W.,  his  indomitable  labors  in  ocean  tele- 
graphy, 906. 

—  of  battle  at  Torktown,  revisited  by  Lafayette,  277. 
"—  of  honor"  at  Bladensburg.  288. 

Fields  of  rainbow  hues  during  the  night  of  Nov.  14,  1837, 

383. 
Fiery  commotion  of  the  whole  firmament  for  hours, 

329. 
Fifteen  generals  and  37,000  prisoners  taken  at  Vicks- 

burg,  823. 

—  ghastly  stabs  on  Dr.  Burdell's  body,  628. 
Fiftieth  Anniversary  and  Celebration  of  the 

Independence  of  the  Republic,  291-296. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Fillibustering  expeditions  by  General  Walker,  748. 

Filling  the  gap  on  the  Pacific  railroad  divisions,  910. 

Fillmore,  President,  his  oration  on  the  capitol  exten- 
sion, 173. 

Final  amendments  to  the  Federal  Constitution,  in  the 
convention  at  Phila.,  137. 

—  day,  supposed  arrival  of  the,  330. 
Financial  crisis  throughout  the  country,  644. 

—  embarrassment  of  the  country  after  the  revolutionary 
war,  133. 

—  panic  aggravated  by  the  Central  America  disaster, 
636. 

Finney,  Charles  G.,  the  revival  preacher,  657. 
Fire  and  ruin  in  Chicago,  thirty  hours  of  wide-spread, 
929. 

—  in  New  York  City,  terrible,  353. 

proof  buildings  in  Chicago  instantly  swept  away  by 

the  fire,  927. 
Firemen  called  out  daring  the  brilliant  aurora  borealis, 
380. 

— 's  victory  at  last  over  the  great  fire,  933. 
Fire-works,  resemblance  of  the  great  meteoric  shower  to, 

330. 
Firmament,  the  whole,  in  fiery  commotion  for  hours, 

329. 
First  American  Naval  Victory,  81-87. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
"  First  blood "  at  the   prize-fight,  cheering  over  the, 
685. 

—  attempt  to  bore  for  oil,  699. 

—  crossing  the  Atlantic  by  steam,  741. 

—  dispatch  over  the  telegraph  wires,  350. 

—  entrance  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  in  American  waters, 
7.57. 

—  foreign  scientific  enterprise  undertaken  by  the  U. 
S.  government,  386. 

—  important  engagement  in  the  great  civil  war,  781. 

—  military  act  in  the  long  and  bloody  civil  war,  764. 
First    Organized     Rebellion     in     the    United 

States  (1786),  125-131. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  qf  this 

Event.) 
First  royal  army  ever  surrendered  to  Americans,  72. 

—  steam-boat  voyage  on  American  waters,  214. 
Fitzpatrick's  account  of  the  siege  of  Vicksburg.  819. 
Five  great  speeches  in  Europe  for  his  country's  cause, 

Rev.  H.  W   Beecher's,  836. 

—  thousand  persons  present  at  Jenny  Lind's  first  con- 
cert, 546. 

Flag  of  a  British  squadron  struck  for  the  first  time  to 

Americans,  234. 
Flagrant  criminal  intimacy  of  Mrs.  Sickles  and  Mr.  Key, 

690. 


INDEX. 


983 


Flag-sbip  Hartford  fighting  the  monster  ram  Tennessee, 
863. 

—  reception,  tlie  Japanese  at  a,  5!)8. 

Flanie-like  piotiiberances  of  the  sun  during  the  eclipse, 

■joo. 
Flaini\i  of  fire  leaping  up  the  Austria's  shrouds,  676. 
Flat-boats,  building  of,  for  Burr's  expedition,  205. 
Fleet  buili  by  Com.  Perry,  to  meet  the  Biitish,  235. 

—  of    naval    vessels    sent    to    the     B;jbary    States, 
182. 

Flight  of  Aaron  Burr,  209. 

Gov  Dorr  to  Connecticut,  413. 

Jeff  Davis  from  Kichmond,  884. 

Flinging  away  their  arms  and  stores  at  Bull  Run,  785. 
Flirtation  with  commissioner  Mason  in  Loudon,  British, 

811. 
Floating  in  solitude  on  the  bosom  of  the  oceati,  638. 
Flood-gates   of   bankruptcy    opened    upon    the    land, 

646. 
Florida,  Georgia  and  Sumter,  the  confederate  cruisers, 

851. 

—  Indians,  war  with,  147. 

Flowers  and  applause  in  the  Brooklyn  court-room, 
&46. 

Fluent  and  melodious  elocution  of  Senator  Hayne, 
299. 

Fondling  of  horses  by  Mr.  Rarey  that  no  one  else  could 
approach,  775. 

Food  for  the  land  of  want  and  woe,  481. 

Foot,  Senator,  his  celebrated  resolution  in  congress, 
298. 

Foote,  Admiral  A.  H.,  his  naval  operations,  861. 

Forbes's  mission  of  humanity  to  Ireland,  483. 

Force  of  Shays's  rebellion  in  Massachusetts,  128. 

Forcing  Hamilton  into  a  duel,  191. 

Ford's  theater,  Washington,  assassination  of  Pres.  Lin- 
coln in,  887. 

Forensic  power  displayed  by  Daniel  Webster,  299. 

—  triumph  of  Mr.  Beecher  in  Liverpool,  837. 
Forest  of  oil-well  derricks,  700. 

— s  crushed  by  the  western  earthquake,  221. 
— s  cut  clean  down  by  the  awful  Sept.  gale,  270. 
Formal  opening  of  the  centennial  exposition,  960. 

—  recognition  of  the  national  capital,  171. 

FOR.^IATIOX  AND  ADOPTION  OF  THE  FEDERAL  CON- 
STITUTION. 132-138. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Former   friendship    between    Forrest    and    Macready, 

509. 
Forrest,  Edwin,  the  American   tragedian,  bis  diiliculties 

■with  Macready.  509. 
Forsaken  by    her  crew,  the  ill-fated  steamer  Arctic, 

615. 
Fort  Fisher,  Admiral   Porter's   crowning    victory    at, 

867 

—  McAllister,  fall  of,  875. 

—  Moultrie  in  the  operations  at  Charleston,  766. 

—  Sumter  besieged  and  captured,  768. 

— s  Montgomery  and  Clinton  captured  by  the  British, 

77. 
Fortifications  at  Vicksburg,  817. 
Foriitude  and  serenity  of  Washington  in  his  last  hours, 

177. 
Fortuitous    incident,    leading    to    a     great   discovery, 

465. 
Fortunes  suddenly  acquired  In  the  oil  regions,  704. 

—  swept  away  in  a  day,  645. 

Forty  confederate  colors  taken  at  Antietam,  804. 

—  millions  of  people  in  1876,  951. 

—  thousand  persons  assembled  in  Wall  street,  648. 

- — one    confederate  standards   taken  at  Gettysburg. 
834. 


Foundering  of  the  Steamek  Central  America, 
IN  A  Gale  off  Cai-e  Hatteras,  635-643. 

(For  topical  and  anatytical  details,  sec  first  paye  of  this 

Event.) 
Founding  and  Establishment  of  the  National 

Capital,  167-173. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Erent.) 
Fountains  of  the  higher  life  opened  up  in  the  revival 

movement,  661. 
Four  acres  of  people  listening  to  Parepa-Rosa,  919. 

—  anxious  days,  636. 

—  hours'  tight  between  the  monster  Merrimac  and  the 
little  Monitor.  795. 

—  luiles  and  fourteen  hours  of  battle  and  slaughter, 
801. 

—  persons  present  at  Mr.  Moody's  first  meeting,  663. 
Fourteen  acies  of  machinery  at  the  centennial,  951. 

—  square  feet  of  children's  bodies  writhing  in  horror, 
508. 

Fox,  the  Misses,  the  original  disclosers  of  "spiritual- 
ism," 473. 

Frame  of  the  Boston  organ,  unrivaled  beauty  of  the, 
848. 

Franklin,  Gen.,  at  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  783. 
,  his  movements  on  the  field  of  battle,  801. 

Franklin's  impressive  appeal  for  pacification,  137. 

Frantic  conduct  of  the  Austria's  passengers,  674. 

Fraser,  Gen.,  his  fatal  fidelity  to  duty,  76. 

Fraternization  of  all  sections,  July  4,  1876,  968. 

Frederick  the  Great,  King  of  Prussia,  gift  from  to  Gen- 
eral Washington,  179. 

Free  soil  and  free  labor,  plea  for,  617. 

Freedmen's  joy  at  the  proclamation  of  emancipation, 
814. 

Fremont's  Heroic  Expedition  to  the  North- 
west, 402-407. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

French  passenger  on  board  the  Guerriere,  231. 

—  physicians'    opinions    of    Senator   Sumner's    case, 
624. 

—  tribute  to  the  character  of  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence, 70. 

Friendliness  of  French  and  British  for  the  Alabama, 

856. 
Friendly  letter  from  Pres.  Fillmore  to  the  Emperor  of 

Japan,  595. 
s  between  Pres.  Buchanan  and  Queen  Victoria, 

756. 

—  toasts  given  by  Gen.  Washington  and  Cornwallis  at 
,the  dinner-table,  110. 

Frigate  Philadelphia,  her  capture  by  the  pirates,  185; 
burned  by  Com.  Decatur,  186. 

Frightful  Catastrophe  in  a  New  York  Five- 
Story  Public  School-House  Containing  1,800  Pu- 
pils, 567-.')74. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  dcfails,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

From  poverty  to  his  millions,  406. 

—  State    to   State  in    unbroken    triumph,  Sherman's 
inarch,  875. 

—  the  gutter  to  the  rostrum,  397. 

height  of  national  i)rosperity  to  universal  bank- 
ruptcy, 650. 

prize-ring  to  the  halls  of  congress,  688. 

Frowning  mitsses  of  soldiers  before  Antietam,  799. 
"  Frozen  music,"  the  wondrous  architecture  of  the  Bos- 
ton organ  defined  as,  848. 
Fruits  of  Perry's  victory  on  Lake  Erie,  239. 
Frustrating  of  Burr's  conspiracy,  206. 
FMll-orbe<l  completeness  of  our  century,  15. 
Fulton-street  prayer-meeting.  New  York,  655. 


084 


INDEX. 


Fulton's  Triumphant  Application  of  Steam  to 

Navigation,  212-217. 
^For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event. ) 
Funeral  cortege  through  fifteen  States,  Pres.  Lincoln's, 

893. 

—  pile,  the  immense  Pemberton  Mills',  726. 
Furious  horses  made  tractable  by  Mr.  Rarey,  773. 

—  pursuit  by  Pres.  Jackson  of  his  assassin,  338. 

—  rush  of  1,800  little  ones,  568. 

Fury  of  the  tempest  in  which  the  Central  America  was 
lost,  636. 

— ,  wide-spread  and  unprecedented,  of  the  Sept.  gale, 
270. 


G. 


"  Gag  Rule,"  so-called,  the,  in  congress,  363. 

Gala  day  for  ruffians  .and  blacklegs,  f84. 

on  the  Princeton  changed  to  one  of  wailing  and 

death,  439. 

Gale,  the  ever-memorable  September  in  New  England, 
264;  after  the  gale,  271. 

Gallows  erected  at  midnight  by  the  vigilance  committee, 
551. 
— ,  Gibbs's  address  from  the,  319. 

Games  of  chess,  against  fifty  players,  won  by  Mr.  Mor- 
phy,  668. 

Gareia's  discouraging  opinion  of  Jenny  Lind's  voice, 
542. 

Gardner,  the  prize-fighter,  in  the  revival,  660. 

Garrett's  bam.  Booth  discovered  in,  895. 

Garrison,  W.  L.,  at  Fort  Sumter,  885. 

Gas  and  oil  fires  in  the  petroleum  regions,  702. 

works  in  Chicago,  explosion  of   during  the  fire, 

927. 

Gates's,  Gen.,  Captdee  of  Buegoyne's  Splenbid 
Army,  72-80. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Gathering  of  whiskey  insurrectionists  at  Pittsburg, 
Penn.,  161. 

Gavel  of  the  confederate  congress,  889. 

Gay  streamers  and  waving  flags  all  over  the  land,  960. 

'•Guneral  Arnold  has  gone  to  the  enemy," — Washing- 
ton's announcement  of  the  crime,  102. 

General  Jackson's  Terrible  Rout  and  Slaugh- 
ter of  the  British  Army,  at  New  Orleans,  257- 
263. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

—  Pakenham  leading  his  men  after  he  was  shot,  261. 

—  Ross  commands  the  British  army  against  Wasliing- 
ton  City.  242. 

General  Scott  in  the  Halls  op  the  Montezumas, 

AS  THE  Conqueror  of  Mexico,  487-493. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
General  Walker's  Fillibusterino  Expeditions 

to  Sonora,  Nicaragua,  and  Honduras  748-7.56. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Generalship  of  Sheridan  unsurpassed,  878. 
Genial  anecdote  and  pleasing  memorabilia  in  this  vol- 
ume, 11. 
Genii  of  applause  and  enthusiasm,  the,  aroused  by  John 

Quincy  Adams,  371. 
Genius  as  a  commander  exhibited  by  Gen.  Sherman, 
868. 

— ,  poor  reward  of,  in  Eli  Whitney's  case,  159. 
Genurtexioiis  practiced  l)y  the  Japanese  officials  on  ap- 
proaching the  President,  736. 


Geographical  and  nautical  results  of  the  South  Pole  ex- 
pedition, 386. 

—  magnitude  of  our  republic,  8. 

Geological  characteristics  of  the  petroleum  regions,  705. 
Germantown,  batile  of,  72. 

Germany's  congratulations  to  the  republic  on  its  centen- 
nial anniversary,  966. 
Getting  the  hot-water  pipes  ready,  742. 
Gettysburg,  Three  Days'  Battle  at,  826-835 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Ghastly  horror  of  the  Somers  mutiny,  415. 
Gibbons's,  Mr.,  explanation  of  the  great  i>anic,  651. 
Gibbs,  the  pirate,  his  career,  capture  and  execution,  314. 
Gift  presented  by  congress  to  Lafayette,  277. 
Gigantic  material  enterprises  of  the  United  States,  9. 

—  preparations  for  war  by  the  North  and  South,  771. 
Gilmore,  P.  S.,  his  vast  musical  enterprise,  915. 
"Gimblet  religion"  of  the  savages,  account  of  the,  389. 
Girdle  of  iron  around  the  loins  of  the  continent,  907. 

"  Give  it  to  'em!  "—Commodore  Hull's  final  order  to  his 

crew,  233. 
Giving  the  last  kisses  on  board  the  fated  Austria,  676. 
word  in  the  duel,  710. 

—  up  the  race  in  despair,  564. 

Glacier  of  Humboldt  visited  by  Dr.  Kane,  536. 
Glasgow  and  Edinburgh,  Union  speeches  by  Mr.  Beecher 

at,  841. 
Glittering  corona  around  the  moon  during  the  solar 

eclipse,  197. 
Gloom  of  the  loyal  states  after  the  Bull  Run  defeat,  788. 
Gloomy  auspices  of  the  revolutionary  campaign  in  1777, 

72. 
Glory  of  the  American  Century,  7. 
Gloucester  Bay,  sea-serpent  seen  at,  577. 
Glowing  beauty  of  the  great  meteoric  shower,  329. 

—  magnificence  of  the  firmament,  Nov.  13,  1837,  382. 

"  God  Save  the  Queen,"  played  at  the  Prince  of  Wales's 

visit,  761. 
Goddard,  Arabella,  her  marvelous  musical  powers,  923. 
Going  down  with  her  flag  still  flying,  the  Cumberland, 

791. 

—  up  the  harbor  of  Cork,  U.  S.  Ship  Jamestown,  483. 
Gold,  first  discovery  of,  in  California,  500. 

—  medal  presented  by  congress  to  Gen.  Gates,  80. 
Golden  age  of  American  oratory,  297. 

—  Commonwealth  of  the  American  Union,  507. 

—  results  of  Whitney's  cotton-gin  invention,  158. 
Goldsborough,  Commodore,  his  opinion  ot    Farragut's 

feat,  862. 
Good  Templars,  gathering  of,  at  the  centennial,  955. 

—  work  done  by  Washington  at  Yorktown,  107. 
Gory  deck  of  Gibbs's  piratical  craft,  317. 

Goiigh,  John  B. ,  his  oratory  in  behalf  of  temperance,  398. 

Graham's  eloquent  plea  for  Bishop  Onderdonk,  454. 

Grain  and  cotton  products,  grangers'  system  of  manag- 
ing, 943. 

Grand  Army  of  the  Republic,  meeting  of,  at  the  centen- 
nial, 955. 

—  dinner  given  by  Washington  to  Cornwallis,  110. 
Grand  Embassy  from  the  Empire  of  Japan,  with 

A  Treaty  of  Peace  and  Commerce,  732-739. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Grand  March  of  the  Union  Army,  under  Gen. 

Sherman,  through  the  South,  868-876. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  .see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Grandeur  of  the  centennial  celebration,  960. 
Granger  movement,  commencement  of  the,  938. 
Granite  warehouses  in  Boston  destroyed  like  lead  in  the 

great  lire,  932. 
Grant,  General,  bis  siege  and  capture  of  Vicksburg,  817. 


INDEX. 


985 


Grappling  with  the  monster  Merrimac,  the  httle  Moni- 
tor, 703. 

Giiive-yard  scones  at  the  height  of  the  "  plague  "  visita- 
tion, 521. 

Graves  and  Cilley,  tlioir  diiol,  283. 

"  Great  Eastern,"  arrival  and  exhibition  of  the  steam- 
ship, 748. 

Greatest  conquest  of  intellectual  over  inanimate  milter, 
7l(i 

Greatest  Defeat  and  Victory  of  Amekican  Arms 
IX  THE  Indian  Wars,  14U  152. 

{Fur  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Greatest  railroad  route  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  914. 

Greenland,  explorers'  experiences  in,  535. 

Greene's,  Mrs.,  timely  suggestion  to  Eli  Whitney,  154. 

Greeting  Macready,  the  actor,  with  groans,  hisses,  and 
missiles,  509. 

—  Scott's  order  with  a  quick-step,  490. 
— s,  Lafayette's,  with  old  comrades,  280. 

Grief  at  Alexander  Hamilton's  death,  195. 

—  in  America  at  the  news  of  Lafayette's  death,  281. 
Grim  old  Merrimac,  Buchanan's,  8GG. 

Grinnell  expeditions  to  the  Arctic  seas,  533. 
Grog  for  Jack  before  the  battle.  866. 
Growth  of  ocean  steam  transit,  742. 

the  order  of  grangers  in  five  years,  939. 

Gulfs  and  chasms  spanned  in  constructing  the  Pacific 

railroad,  909. 
Gunnery  of  the  Kearsarge  compared  with  the  Alabama's, 

«56. 


H. 


Habits  of  Gen.  Jackson  in  war,  260. 

Hagerstown,  Md..  Lee's  troops'  arrival  at,  on  their  north- 
ward march,  826. 

*'  Hail  Columbia,"  sung  by  Jenny  Lind  and  Daniel  Web- 
ster, 545. 

Hailing  Morrissey  as  the  pugilistic  Champion  of  Amer- 
ica, 686. 

Hair-breadth  escapes  at  the  Pemberton  Mills  catastro- 
phe, 726. 

Half  a  month's  earnings  to  hear  Jenny  Lind  sing,  547. 

century  anniversary  and  celebration  throughout  the 

country,  291. 

—  an  hour  with  the  terrible  horse  known  as  "  Cruiser," 
774. 

Hall  of  the  U.  S.  senate,  appearance  of,  during  Mr. 

Webster's  speech,  302. 
Halo,  or  corona,  during  the  solar  eclipse,  200. 
Halt  made  by  Cornwallis,  at  Yorktown,  105. 
Hamilton's  fatal  duel  with  Burr,  189. 

—  plan  for  locating  the  national  capital,  169. 
of  government  for  the  U.  S.,  136. 

Hammer  of  pure  silver  employed  in  completing  the 
Pacific  railroad,  912. 

Hammond,  E.  P  ,  the  revival  preacher,  657. 

Hampton  Koads,  memorable  combat  in  the,  793. 

Hancock,  John,  his  remarkable  signature  to  the  Declar- 
ation of  Independence.  71. 

Hand-to-hand  conflict,  831. 

Handcuffs  vs.  champagne,  749. 

Hanging  of  Spencer  and  his  comrades,  422. 

—  the  telegraph  wires,  345. 

"—  together  or  separately,"  Franklin's  remark  to  his 
colleagues,  295. 
Happy   conversation    between    Prof.   Morse   and  Miss 
Ellsworth.  350. 

—  frame  of  mind  during  his  last  day,  Pres.  Lincoln's, 
888. 

—  unconsciousness  during  surgical  operations,  460, 


Harmer's   expedition  against  the  Indians,  failure  of, 

147. 
Harmonies  and  wondrous  beauty  of  the  Boston  organ, 

817. 
Harold,  trial  and  execution  of,  for  conspiracy,  898. 
Harrison's  defeat  of  'J'eciniiseli,  152. 

—  victory  of  the  Thames,  241. 

Harrowing  experiences  of  the  Central  America's  pas- 
sengers, 638. 

Hartford  and  Tennessee,  battle  between  the,  863;dis- 
comtiture  of  the  latter,  866. 

Hartstene,  Cnpt.,  sent  to  Dr.  Kane's  relief,  538. 

Harvests  reaped  by  outlaws  in  California,  in  its  earlier 
days,  550. 

Hasty  removal  of  the  confederate  archives  from  Kich- 
imnd,  884. 

Having  a  shot  at  the  sea-serpent,  577. 

Hawkins,  the  Baltimore  temperance  reformer,  395. 

Hawley,  Gen.  J.  li.,  head  of  the  centennial  exposition, 
952. 

Hayes,  Dr.  Isaac  J.,  his  heroic  explorations  in  the  Arc- 
tic regions,  539. 

Hayne,  Robert  Y.,  his  great  debate  with  Daniel  Web- 
ster, 297. 

"He  is  gone;  he  is  dead!"  Pres.  Lincoln's  death  an- 
nounced by  his  physician,  892. 

Head  of  the  sea-serpent,  remarkable  appearance  of  the, 
581. 

Headlong  descent  of  hundreds  of  children  down  the 
school-house  stairs,  568. 

—  velocity  of  navigation  required  on  the  Jordan,  495. 
Healey's  commemoration  of  the  "  Great  Debate,"  298. 
Heart's  Content,  arrival  of  the  Atlantic  cable  at,  904. 
Heat  of  the  falling  meteors  of  Nov.,  1833, 332. 
Heaven-wide  auroral  radiance,  380. 

Heavy  cost  of  the  Union  triumph,  878. 

Heenan,  John  C,  his  prize-fight  with  Morrissey,  681. 

Hegira  of  women  and  children  during  the  Chicago  fire, 
926. 

Height  of  city  stores  preventing  their  preservation, 
933. 

Heintzelman's  division,  Gen.,  at  Bull  Run,  788. 

Heir  to  the  British  throne,  his  tour  in  the  United  States, 
758. 

Help  for  Chicago  poured  forth  from  the  whole  land, 
929. 

Helping  a  brave  man  without  pay,  246. 

Helpless  agony  of  hundreds  of  children,  568. 

Henry,  Patrick,  his  eloquent  summons,  'We  must  fight! ' 
66. 

"  Her  name  is  not  there  !  "—reading  the  list  of  the  dead, 
729. 

Herculean  prowess  of  Morrissey  and  Heenan,  the  pugil- 
ists, 684. 

Herndon,  Captain,  his  bravery  in  the  hour  of  peril,  635. 

Heroes  of  antiquity  and  Gen.  Jackson,  comparison  be- 
tween the,  258. 

—  quailing  at  the  surgeon's  knife,  456. 

Hideous  mutilation  of   the  Pemberton  Mills  victims, 

727. 
Hiding  himself  from  himself,  Gibbs's  attempts  at,  319. 

place,  the  assassin  Booth's,  894. 

"  High  Church  "  and  "  I^w  Church,"  455. 

—  social  position  of  Dr.  Parkman  and  Webster  his 
murderer,  523. 

Highway  from  the  gates  of  the  East  to  sunset  itself, 
914. 

Hippodrome  meetings  in  New  York,  Moody  and  San- 
key's,  6G4. 

"  His  Wood  was  up!  "  251. 

—  wits  saved  him,  805. 

Historic  actors  as  well  as  deeds  described  in  this  volume, 
12. 


986 


INDEX. 


Historic  scene  in  the  heart  of  America,  wonderful, 
910. 

History  illustrating  itself  by  example,  10. 

Hoarse  roar  of  the  flames  in  the  Boston  fire,  932. 

Hoisting  the  first  American  naval  flag,  82. 

"Hold  the  Fort!"  661. 

Holding  the  disputed  giound,  803. 

dying  president's  hand  in  his  own.  Senator  Sum- 
ner, 891. 

hill  at  Antietam,  Burnside's  feat  of,  801. 

Holland  acknowledges  the  independence  of  America, 
71. 

Holmes.  Dr.  O.  W.,  his  tribute  to  the  wonders  Oi  etheriz- 
ation, 458. 

Holy  land  localities,  American  interest  in  the,  494. 

Homicide  of  Hon.  Philip  Barton  Key  by  Hon. 
Daniel  E.  Sickles,  M.  C,  in  Washington,  D.  C, 
689  697. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Honduras,  fatal  result  of  Walker's  fillibustering  expedi- 
tion at,  753. 

Honeymoon  in  another  world,  spending  the,  520. 

Hong  Kong,  China,  via  Chicago,  913. 

Hood's  fatal  movement  in  favor  of  Sherman,  864. 

Hooker  leading  the  advance  of  the  grand  army,  798;  is 
shot  and  disabled,  798. 

Hope  of  transferring  the  operations  of  the  war  to  the 
North,  Gen.  Lee's,  826. 

Hopeless  resistance  by  Lee  to  Grant's  army,  881. 

Horizontal  movement  of  the  San  Francisco  earthquake, 
224. 

Horological  wonders  of  the  electric  telegraph  cable, 
905. 

Horrible  and  Mysterious  Murder  of  Dr.  Bur- 
dell,  A  Wealthy  New  York  Dentist,  6.6-634. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  qf  this 
Event.) 

Horse-taming  feats  by  Mr.  Rarey  of  Ohio,  772. 

Horseshoe  Bend,  battle  with  the  Indians  at,  152. 

Horticultural  exhibition  at  the  centennial,  957. 

Hospital  scenes  at  Gettysburg,  829. 

—  use  of  etherization,  462. 
Hospitalities,  national,  to  Lafayette,  276. 
Hostile  meeting  between  Clay  and  Randolph,  285. 
Hot  and  suffocating  air  during  the  Sept.  gale,  268. 

—  chain,  a,  in  a  bucket  of  tar,  674. 

—  -blooded  assailants  of  John  Quincy  Adams,  367. 
Hotels,  churches  and  theaters,  in  ashes,  by  the  Chicago 

fire,  925. 
"  Hounds,"  the  organized  society  of,  in  California,  550. 
How  Miller  became  a  Second  Advent  preacher,  433. 

—  Pres.  Lincoln  passed  his  last  day,  888. 

—  spiritualism  originated,  473. 

—  things  appeared  during  the  "Dark  Day,"  95. 

—  the    fought  at  Bull  Run,  782. 

Howard,  Gen.,  commanding  in  Sherman's  army,  871. 

Howe,  Elias,  Jr.,  his  wonderful  inventive  genius,  464. 

Hughes,  Ball,  his  statue  of  Hamilton,  360. 

Hull,  Captain,  his  eager  acceptance  of  Capt.  Dacres's 
challenge,  228. 

Human  enterprises,  the  grandest,  904. 

Humanity  and  science,  memorable  co-operation  of, 
6:55. 

Humboldt's  tribute  of  admiration  to  American  explor- 
ers, 402. 

Humiliation  of  King  George  in  parliament,  121. 
the  Emperor  of  Morocco  by  America,  185. 

Humor,  good,  of  John  Paul  Jones,  towards  his  enemy, 
85. 

Humorous  side  of  the  electric  telegraph,  351. 

—  treat inont  of    his    country's  enemies  in  England, 
BeeclK-i's.  841. 


Hundreds  of  families  in  mourning  for  the  early  dead, 

574. 

millions'  value  lost  in  the  Chicago  fire,  929. 

Hung  near  the  spot  of  his  birth,  Prof.  WeK-iter,  530. 
Hungarian  cause,  Kossuth's  advocacy  of  in  America, 

590. 
Hunt,  Walter,  his  prior  invention  of  the  sewing-machine, 

467. 
Hunter's   division.  Gen.,    at  the  battle  of  Bull  Run, 

781. 
Hunting  excursions  at  the  west  by  the  Prince  of  Wales, 

758. 
"  Hurrah  for  the  flag!  "  shout  of  a  Union  sailor  who  had 

lost  both  arms  and  legs,  791. 
Hurrying  through  the  streets  with  their  ledgers,  Boston 

merchants  during  the  fire,  933. 
Husbands    fleeing   from   wives   during   the  epidemic, 

517. 
Hydesville,  N.  Y.,  singular  and  humble    origin  of  the 

spiritual  knockings  at,  472. 
Hymn  for  the  centennial  inauguration  by  J.  G.  Whittier, 

952. 
Hypotheses  of  the  Nov.  meteoric  shower,  333. 


I. 


"lam  shot!  "—Cilley's  exclamation  at  the  third  fire, 
713. 

"  I  must  have  another  shot!  "—Graves's  remark  at  the 
duel,  712. 

"  1  will  never  leave  the  ship!  "—636. 

Ice-bound  continent,  hitherto  unknown,  reached  by  the 
U.  S.  explorers,  389. 

Idolized  in  Washington  society,  Mrs.  Sickles,  693. 

"  If  the  bridge  is  lost  all  is  lost!  "  803. 

Ignoble  origin  of  the  great  Chicago  conflagration, 
24. 

Ill-starred  career  of  pirate  Gibbs,  316. 

Illegality  of  their  acts  acknowledged  by  the  vigilance 
committee,  557. 

Illustrious  men  in  the  convention  for  framing  the  Fed- 
eral Constitution,  133. 

—  virtues  of  Gen.  Washington,  tributes  to  the,  179. 
Imbedded  in  ice  for  successive  months,  534. 
Imitation  among  children  in  a  scene  of  panic,  571. 
Immediate  cause  of  the  great  religious  revival,  654. 
Immortality  guaranteed  to  Rarey  in  England  if  success- 
ful in  taming  "Cruiser,"  773. 

Impatience  of  the  Constitution's  crew  to  commence  the 
fight,  232. 
North  for  a  movement  on  Richmond,  780. 

Imperishable  honors  crowning  Sherman's  name,  868. 

Impetuous  desire  to  advance  on  the  North,  Lee's  troops', 
826. 

Impetuosity  of  Wayne's  troops,  151. 

Impetus  given  to  commerce  by  the  California  gold  dis- 
coveries, 507. 

Important  question  and  answer  in  Prof.  Morse's  career, 
346. 

Imposing  coup  d'osil  at  the  White  House,  445. 

—  magnificence  of  Kossuth's  reception  in  the   U.  S., 
587. 

Imposition  of  $300  fine  on  Mr.  Brooks  for  his  assault  on 
Senator  Sumner,  623. 

Impostors  in  the  religious  world,  4.36. 

Im potency  of  human  effort  in  staying  the  Chicago  fire, 
92r>. 

Impressions  produced  by  the  Boston  musical  celebra- 
tion, 918 
on  Washington  by  Lafayette  "74. 


INDEX. 


987 


[mpressive  appearance  of  Washington  on  resigning  his 
commission  as  coiiimamier-iii-cliief,  117. 

Imprisonment  of  Jeft'uisoii  Davis  in  Fortress  Monroe, 
884. 

Impromptu  prayer-meetings  during  the  meteoric  show- 
er, 3M. 

Improprieties  with  Mrs.  Tilton  denied  by  Mr.  Beecher, 
949. 

Improvements  in  telegraphing  made  by  different  invent- 
ors, 351. 

In  his  coffin,  the  seducer,  694. 

—  the  hottest  and  thicliesl  of  the  fight,  489. 
Inappreciable  but  momentous  point  of  time,  444, 
Inauguration  of  Washington,  as  first  president  of  the 

U.  S.,  i:!9. 
Incalculable  wealth  of  our  natiiral  resources,  9. 
Incidents  of  the  total  solar  eclipse.  203. 
Incomparable  dignity  and  grace  of  Kossuth,  590. 

—  organ  erected  in  Boston  music  hall,  844. 
Incredulity  excited  by  Fulton's  attempts  at  steam-nav- 
igation, 213. 

Indebtedness  to  French  aid  at  Yorktown,  Washington's 

acknowledgment  of,  110. 
"  Independence  Forever,"  John  Adams's  toast  for  the 

nation's  half-centennial,  295. 

—  of  the  Republic,  fiftieth  anniversary  and  celebra- 
tion of,  291. 

Indescribable  joy  at  the  North  over  the  Gettysburg  vic- 
tory, 834. 

—  rapidity  and  force  of  the  wind  during  the  September 
gale,  265. 

"  Indestructible"  storehouses  crumble  like  chalk  in  the 
great  Boston  fire,  932. 

Indian  defeat,  151  ;  and  victory,  148. 

Indications  of  the  approach  of  the  San  Francisco  earth- 
quake, 224. 

Indictments  against  the  assassination  conspirators, 
897. 

Indigence  of  Eli  Whitney's  early  condition,  154. 

Indignation  of  Washington  at  the  proposal  to  make  him 

king,  115. 
^,  public,  at  Hamilton's  fate,  195. 

Individual  instances  of  bravery  at  Gettysburg,  834. 

—  losses,  immense,  in  the  great  N.  Y.  fire,  357. 

—  vs  associated  efforts,  grangers'  view  of,  943. 
Industry  at  the  South,  impetus  given  to,  by  the  cotton- 
gin,  159. 

—  of  All  Nations,    exhibition    of,    at  London— grand 
finale,  558. 

ineffectual  resistance  to  Brooks  attempted  by  Sumner, 

619. 
Inexhaustible  deposits  of  precious  metal  in  California, 

506. 

Inexplicable  character  of  the  manifestations  known  as 
"  spiritual,"  475. 

Infamy  of  Admiral  Cockburn  at  Washington,  247. 

Inglorious  flight  at  Rivas,  749. 

Inhalation  of  ether,  discovery  of,  as  a  preventive  of  pain, 
456 

Initiating  the  grangers'  organization,  939. 

Initiation  of  a  plan  of  government  for  the  U.  S.,  133. 

Inscription  of  the  Penn.  Bible  Society  at  the  centen- 
nial, 958. 

.—  on  the  comer-stone  of  the  national  capitol,  171; 
and  on  the  corner-stone  of  the  extension,  173. 
Liberty  Bell,  in  Independence  Hall,  67. 

Inserting  the  most  important  word  in  the  emancipation 
proclamation,  809. 

Inspecting  the  horrors  of  the  Irish  famine,  485. 

Inspection  of  the  victorious  yacht  America  by  the  Queen 
and  Prince  Albert,  565. 

Instant  and  awful  death  of  Secretary  Gilmer,  441. 

—  stunning  of  Senator  Sumner  by  Brooks's  cane,  620. 


Instant  summons,  trial,  and  hanging,  by  the  vigilance 

committee,  .554. 
Insurrection,  wliiskey,  in  Pennsylvania,  160. 
Intellectual  range  exhil)ilcd  l)y  Daniel  Webster,  299. 
Intemperate  debates  in  congress,  .'!69. 
Intended  breakfast  at  Arnold's,  by  Washington,  101. 

—  conversion  of  tlie  U.  S.  Brig  Somers  into  a  pirate, 
416. 

Intention  of  Shays's  followers  to  seize  Boston,  129. 
Intercourse  claimed  to  be  opened  between  human  and 

disembodied  spirits,  472. 
Interest  of  foreign  countries  in  the  Industrial  Exhibi 

tion,  601. 
other  nations  excited  by  the  treaty  between  th-i 

U.  S.  and  Japan,  739. 
Interior  of  Fort  Sumter  after  the  bombardment,  770. 
International  regatta,  the  yacht  America  triumphant  ii  > 

the,  558. 
Interposition,  Col.  Benton's,  in  the  Clay  and  Bandolpli 

duel,  287. 

—  of  America  in  Koss<>th's  behalf,  586. 
Interpretation  of  the  language  of  the  spirit  world,  473. 
Interview  between  Aaron  Burr  and  his  pursuers,  208. 

Consul  Harris  and  the  Emperor  of  Japan,  599. 

Gen.  Gates  and  Gen   Burgoyne,  78. 

Gen.  Washington  and  Lafayette,  274. 

Generals  Grant  and  Lee,  882. 

Gens  Grant  and  Pemberton,  821. 

Jenny  Lind  and  Mr.  Barnum,  first,  545. 

John  Adams  and  King  George,  121. 

John  Paul  Jones  and  his  antagonist  Commodore 

Pearson,  85. 

Lafayette  and  "Bed  Jacket,"  280. 

Mr.  Beecher  and  Mr.  Tilton,  946. 

Pres.  Grant  and  the  Emperor  of  Brazil,  952. 

Pres.  Lincoln  and  Gen.  Grant,  888. 

Pres.  Lincoln  and  Sec.  Stanton,  memorable,  882. 

the  assassin  Booth  and  his  captors,  895. 

Prince  of  Wales  and  a  Bunker  Hill  veteran, 

762. 

Washington  and  Mrs.  Arnold,  102. 

Webster  and  Hayne,  after  the  debate,  304. 

Intrigue  and  infamy  in  fashionable  life,  627. 
Introducing  Kossuth  to  congress,  589. 
Introduction  of  Lafayette  to  Gen.  Washington,  274. 
Invasion  of  Mexico  by  the  U.  S.  forces,  488. 

the  North  determined  on  by  Gen.  Lee,  826. 

Invention  of  that  Wondkous  Piece  of  Mechan- 
ism, THE  Sewing  Machine,  464-471. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

the  cotton-gin  by  Eli  Whitney,  153. 

Electric  Telegraph,  345. 

Invitation  to  Kossuth  to  come  to  America,  586. 
Lafayette  to  become  one  of  Washington's  mili- 
tary family,  274. 
Inviting  Gen.  Grant  to  a  peace  interview.  Gen.  Lee, 

881. 
Involuntary  exclamations  of  wonder  during  the  total 

eclipse,  198. 
Ireland's  appeal  borne  across  the  Atlantic,  481. 
Irish  harps  and  American  eagles,  486. 
Iron  and  coal  display  at  the  centennial,  958. 
stone  no  barriers  to  the  Boston  fire,  932. 

—  -clads  Merrimac  and  Monitor,  combat  between  the, 
789. 

hearted,  but  in  tears,  209. 

—  roofing  and  plating  the  Merrimac,  790. 

—  span  across  the  wide  continent,  911. 
Irregularities  of   Miller's  followers  reproved   by  him 

437. 
Irrepressible  emotions  excited  by  Mr  Webster's  oratory, 
302. 


088 


INDEX. 


Irresistible    pressure    of    gentleness   on    horses,    Mr. 

Rarey's,  779. 
Irritation  between  Mexico  and  the  U.  S.  leading  to  war, 

487. 
Irwinsville,  Ga.,  capture  of  Jeff.  Davis  at,  884. 
Isle  of  Wight,  scene  of  the  international  regatta,  660. 
Issues  involved  in  the  triumph  of  Gen.  Grant  at  Kich- 

mond,  877. 


J. 


Jackson,  Dr.,  his  claim  to  the  ether  discovery,  463. 
— ,  General,  his  terrible  rout  and  slaughter  of  the  Brit- 
ish at  New  Orleans,  257. 
— ,  Gen.  "  Stonewall,"  at  Antietam,  799. 
— ,  President,  his    proclamation  against  nullification, 
323. 

,  scheme  of  Lawrence  to  kill,  337. 

James,  army  of  the,  reunion  of,  at  the  centennial,  955. 

Jamestown,  voyage  of  the  ship,  483. 

Japan,  naval  expedition  to,  592. 

Japanese  Embassy  to  the  U.  S.  government  in  18C0, 

732. 
Java,  frigate,  Bainbrldge's  capture  of  the,  231. 
Jayne's  Hall,  Phila.,  during  the  religious  revival,  655. 
Jealousy  in  congress,  on  selecting  a  general  for  the  rev- 
olutionary army,  112. 
Jefferson,  Thomas,  a  sketch  of  his  career,  295. 

,  his  account  of  the  final  compact  for  locating  the 

nation. tl  capital,  168. 
,  his  authorship  of  the  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence. 292. 

,  his  death  on  the  50th  anniversary  of  American 

independence,  291. 
Jewett,  Helen,  murder  of,  in  New  York,  633. 
Jewish  appreciation  of   Moody  and   Sankey's   labors, 

662. 
Jocular   remark   of   Pres.    Lincoln  about  being  shot, 

889. 
John  Brown's  Captueb  of  Harper's  Ferry,  Va., 

715-722. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
John-street  prayer-meeting.  New  York,  655. 
Johnston,  Gen.,  at  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  787. 
Jones,  John  Paul,  his  capture  of  the  British  ship  Sera- 
pis,  81. 
Jordan's  banks  described  by  the  explorers,  495. 
Journeying  around  the  world  made  easy  by  the  Pacific 

railroad,  914. 
Joy,  national,  at  the  result  of  the  convention  for  fram- 
ing the  Federal  Constitution,  1.38. 
-  occasioned  after  the  "  Dark  Day"  was  over,  96. 
Jubilation  at  the  South  at  the  Bull  Run  victory,  788. 
Jubilee  in  Boston  in  honor  of  the  return  of  peace,  915. 
Judgment  Day  supposed  to  have  come,  89. 
July  4,  1776,  65;  July  4,  1876,  951. 
Junction  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  oceans,  914. 
Jury,  address  by  Prof.  Webster  to  the,  528. 
Jurymen  congratulating  Mr.  Sickles,  096. 
Justice  administered  in  San  Francisco  by  the  vigilance 
•ommittee,  550. 


Koarsarge  and  Alabama,  battle  between  the,  851. 
Keeping  at  bay  tbe  whole  Union  fleet,  the  ram  Tennes- 
see, 863. 

—  his  i)l:in  of  blood  in  his  razor-case,  417. 

—  the  California  gold-di.scovery  a  secret,  505. 
Keim's  brilHant  narrative  of  operations  at  Vicksburg, 

819. 

Kelly,  O.  H.,  one  of  the  founders  of  the  grange  move- 
ment, 938. 

Key,  Francis,  his  composition  of  "The  Star  Spangled 
Banner,"  249. 
— ,    Philip  Barton,  homicide  of,  by^Hon.  Daniel  E. 
Sickles,  C89. 

—  to  Mexico  held  by  the  Americans,  490. 
Keyes's  brigade.  Gen.,  at  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  783. 
Kilpatrick's,  Gen.,  battle-flag  at  Gettysburg,  833. 

—  leading  the  cavalry,  871. 

Kinds  of  phenomena  included  in  "  spiritualism,"  476. 
King  Charles's  charter  for  Rhode  Island,  dissatisfaction 
with,  408. 

—  Frederick  William's  opinion  of  Fremont's  explora- 
tions, 402. 

—  George's  conversation  with  John  Adams,  123. 
speech  on  acknowledging  American  independ- 
ence, 121. 

statue  destroyed  in  New  York,  68. 

— ,  Samuel  W.,  his  defeat  of  Thomas  W.  Dorr,  412. 

Kingly    ceremony    in    parliament   on     acknowledging 
American  independence,  120. 

"Kingly   pastime,"    Mr.    Morphy's   opinion   of  chess 
67J. 

Kii  k.  Edward  N.,  the  revival  preacher,  657. 

Kissing  the  corpse  of  Dr.  Burdell  by  his  alleged  mur- 
deress. 028. 

Kit  Carson,  the  intrepid  adventurer,  403. 

Knapp,  Jacob,  the  revival  preacher,  657. 

Knell  of  the  lawless  in  California,  551. 

Knighthood  conferred  upon  a  defeated  officer,  85. 

Knights  of  Pythias,  parade  of  at  the  centenjiial,  955. 

Knowledge  of  the  rock-oil  sources  in  olden  times,  699. 

Kossuth,  Gov-,  arrival  of,  as  guest  of  the  nation,  587. 


K. 


Kalakaua,  King,  tour  of,  in  the  United  States,  954. 
Kane,  Dr.  E.  K.,  his  expedition  to  the  polar  seas,  535. 
Kansas,  debate  on,  in  Ibo  U.  S.  senate,  617. 


Laconic  message  of  McDonough  announcing  his  victory, 

250. 
Ladies,  enthusiasm  of  the,  towards  Gen.  Washington, 

142. 
— '  sanitary  fair  at  Chicago,  Pres.  Lincoln's  gift  to,  815. 
Lady  spectators  of  the  Princeton  tragedy,  442. 
Lafayette's  brilliant  services  at  York  town,  105. 

—  visit  to  America,  as  the  guest  of  the  Republic,  272- 
281. 

Lake  Champlain,  McDonough's  victory  on,  250. 

—  Erie,  Perry's  victory  on,  234. 

Lakes  and  swamps  formed  by  the  western  earthquake, 

223. 
Land  speculators  swarming  the  west,  645. 
Landing  of  Lafayette  at  New  York,  275. 
Landmarks  saved  from  the  fire  in  Boston,  933. 
Laryngitis,  the  disease  of  which  Washington  died,  178. 
Lashed  to  the  m.ast  in  Mobile  Bay,  Farr.igut,  I^IK. 
Lashing  the  flag  to  the  mast-head  during  battle,  230. 
Last  hours  and  words  of  Gen.  Washington,  177. 

—  war-flag  of  America  in  British  waters,  482. 
Latter-Day  saints,  306. 

Laudanum  soup  for  savages,  Dr.  Hayes's  timely  use  of, 

540. 
Laudation  of  Lafayette,  all  over  the  land,  276. 


INDEX. 


989 


Laughing  a  congressional  resolution  out  of  existence, 

36G. 
Launched  from  the  g.illows  by  pairs,  SoT. 
Laurels  orowuiiiy  the  huaii  of  tlio  conqueror  of  peace, 

885. 

—  won  by  Rarey  from  nionarolis  and  princes,  772. 
Lavish  and  magnilicent  hospitalities  to  the  Japanese 

otlioials,  7;;9. 

Law  of  nations  expounded  by  Kossuth,  590. 

Lawless  classes  terrified  by  the  action  of  the  vigilance 
comniiitee,  655. 

Lawrence,  Mass.,  tragedy  of  the  Pemberton  Mills  in, 
723. 

— ,  Richard,  his  plan  to  shoot  Pres.  Jackson,  337;  his 
insanity,  310. 

Laying  aside  all  etiquette,  royal  visitors  at  Rarey's  per- 
formances, 777. 

—  of  the  telegraph  cable  across  the  Atlantic  ocean, 
899. 

—  the  corner-stone  of  the  national  capiti)l,  171. 
keel  of  the  tirst  Atlantic  steamship,  742. 

Leading  nulliliers  threatened  with  the  gallows,  327. 
Lear,  Col.,  his  account  of  Washington's  wrath,  150. 
Leaving  her  rivals,  one  by  one,  504. 

—  the  White  House  for  the  theater,  Pres.  Lincoln, 
889. 

Lee,  Gen.  Henry,  subdues  the  Penn.  whiskey  insurrec- 
tion, 16G. 

Lee's,  Gen.  R.  E.,  great  army  surrenders  to  Gen.  Grant, 
883. 
great  military  object,  798. 

Legions  of  Union  soldiers  besieging  Richmond,  877. 

Legislation  by  congress  for  celebrating  the  centennial, 
952. 

Leisurely  movements  of  the  yacht  America  when  start- 
ing on  the  race,  501. 

Length  of  the  Great  Eastern,  680  feet,  713. 
pea-serpent,  578. 

Lesson  taught  by  the  exhibition  of  the  industry  of  all 
nations,  C07. 
. the  North  by  the  Bull  Run  defeat,  788. 

"Let  the  Bright  Seraphim,"  sung  by  Parepa-Rosa  be- 
fore Pres.  Grant,  919. 

Letter  from  King  George  on  the  Yorktown  catastrophe, 
109. 

—  in  a  golden  box  from  Pres.  Fillmore  to  the  Emperor 
of  Japan,  592. 

— ,  last,  written  by  Washington,  175. 

—  of  friendship  from  Emperor  William-  to  the  United 
States,  900. 

—  received  by  Arnold  showing  his  detection,  101. 
Levee  at  the  White  House,  Jackson's,  after  the  Webster 

and  Hayne  debate,  304. 
■'  Leviathan,"  the  sea-serpent  supposed  to  be  the,  578. 
Liberation  of  slaves,  John  Brown's  jilan  for  the,  715, 
•'  Liberty  and  no  Excise,"  motto  of  the  Penn.  whiskey 

insurrectionists,  161. 

—  for  Kansas,  Sumner's  speech  on,  617. 
IJfe  among  the  gold-diggers,  500. 

—  or  death  depending  on  a  single  word,  528. 
Lightning  rapidity  of  the  flames  at  the  Chicago  fire, 

925. 
Lights  and  shades  of  tone  marvelously  combined  in  the 

Boston  organ,  848. 
Lincoln,  Abraham,  his  call  for  75,000  men,  771. 

,  Abraham,  his  election  as  president,  704. 
■^,  Abraham,  his  proclamation  of  emancipation,  807. 
— ,  Abraham,  his  visit  to  Richmond,  883. 
— ,  Abraham,  is  assassinated  at  Ford's  theater,  Wash- 
ington, by  J.  W,  Booth,  887. 
— ,  Abraham,  obsequies  and  sepulture,  894. 
— ,  Gen.,  dispersion  of  Shays's  followers  in  Masfachu- 
setts  by,  130. 


Lincoln,  Gen.,  successes  at  Forts  Edward,  Anne,  George, 

etc.,  75. 
Liiid,    Jenny,   her   great  musical  tour   in  the  United 

Slates,  541. 
Line  of  battle  formed  on  Lake  Chaniplain,  253. 

electric  tolegrapli,  the  tirst,  .'i;8. 

Lines  of  Lee's  army  fatally  broken  into,  879;  his  retreat, 

881 ;  capitulation,  882. 
Linnajan  Society's  report  on  the  sea-serpent,  581. 
Lion-like  energy  of  Pres.  Jackson  on  being  shot  at, 

338. 
Liquid  treasures  spouting  forth  from  the  earth,  608. 
Lisbon,    celebration    of  the  American   centennial    at, 

965. 
List  of  the  dead  and  wounded,  reading  the,  729. 
"  Little  Turtle,"  his  defeat  of  St.  Clair,  150. 
Liverpool,  Eng.,  Beecher  overcoming  the  yelling  mob 

at,  838. 
Livingston's  aid  to  Fulton,  213. 
Lizzie  among  the  awful  ruins,  729. 
Localities  unrecognized  after  the  earthquake,  221. 
Locked  iii-doors  during  the  raging  fire,  9.35. 
London,  celebration  of    the  American   centennial   at, 

965. 

—  heraldiy  oflace  visited  by  John  Randolph,  289. 
Long  Island,  battle  of,  114. 

Longest  and  most  bitter  case  in  judicial  annals,  945. 
Longfellow's  mansion  in  Cambridge,  formerly  Washing- 
ton's head-quarters,  114. 
Long's  Peak,  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  403. 
Longstreet,  Gen.,  at  the  battle  of  Antietam,  799. 
"  Look  on  this  picture— and  on  this,"  10. 
Looking  over  the  Southern  map,  Sherman,  870. 

—  the  Tycoon  in  the  face,  599. 

Loomis,  Prof.,  his  astronomical  observations,  383. 

Lord   Chatham's    death,    after   his    passionate    speech 

against  the  American  colonies,  70. 
Losing  his  whole  family  and  noble  ship  at  the  same 

time,  615. 
Loss  OF  THE  Splendid  Collins  Steamship  Arctic, 

OF  New  York,  by   Collision   with   the    Iron 

Steamer  Vesta,  608-615. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Losses  of  the  two  armies  in  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  780. 
"  Lots  "  in  western  cities,  645. 

Louisiana,  intended  invasion  of  by  the  British,  258. 
Love's  last  embrace  on  the  Austria,  676. 
Lowenthal's  game  of  chess  with  Paul  Morphy,  666. 
Lowering  her  colors  to  Her  Majesty,  during  the  height  of 

the  race,  505. 
Luminous  train  of  108,000,000  miles  to  the  comet,  425. 
Luster  reflected  on  American  industry,  607. 
Lustrous  grandeur  of  the  aurora  borealis,  381. 
Lyell,  Professor,  his  account  of  the  western  earthquake, 

222. 

_-^  ,  —  opinion  of  the  sea-serpent,  578. 

— 's  travels  among  the  Second  Adventists,  436. 
Lying  in  state,  Senator  Broderick,  711. 
"Lynch-law,"  healthy  operations  of,  550. 
Lynch's  expedition  to  the  Orient,  494. 


M. 


Macaulay's,  Lord,  tribute  to  the  value  of  Whitney's  cot- 
ton-gin, 153. 

"  Macbeth  and  Banquo  "  in  a  changed  scene,  509. 

Macedonian,  frigate,  capture  of  the.  by  Decatur,  231. 

Machinery  building  at  the  centennial  exhibition,  955. 

Mackenzie,  Capt.  A.  S.,  his  dealintj  with  the  mutineers, 
417, 


990 


INDEX. 


Macon,  Ga.,  surrender  of  Gen.  Cobb  at,  885. 

Macready,   W.   C,  the  English  tragedian,  mobbed  in 

New  York,  512. 
Maddened  sea  of  insult  at  Liverpool,  Mr.  Beecher  stems 

a.  838. 
Madman's  attempt  on  Pres.  Jackson's  life,  337. 
MafBt,  John  N.,  the  revival  preacher,  657. 
Magnanimity  of  Jackson  in  the  flus-h  of  triumph,  263. 
Magnates  in  state  and  church  doing  honor  to  Jenny 

Lind,  546. 
Magnetism  of  Rarey's  presence  among  horses,  779. 
Magnificence  of  the  international  exposition  at  Phila,- 

delphia,  960. 
Magnificent  Auroua  Boreat.is  Encompassing  the 

Whole  Firmament  to  its  Farthest  Bounds,  379- 

385. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Magnitude  and  hazard  of  Pakenham's  campaign,  263. 
Mail  wagons  for  China  on  the  Pacific  railroad,  913. 
Main  point  of  the  America's  superiority  over  her  com- 
petitors, 506. 
Majestic  drama  of  our  century's  events,  8. 

—  oaks  tvi  isted  into  shreds  by  the  terrible  gale,  267. 

—  organ  erected  in  Boston  music  hall,  844. 

Makes  his  final  confession  as  the  murderer  of  Parkman, 
530. 

Making  for  her  antagonist  at  full  speed,  the  ram  Ten- 
nessee, 863. 

—  known  the  result  of   Grant  and  Lee's  interview, 
883. 

Male  and  female,  in  youth  and  beauty,  buried  in  the 
Pemberton  Mills  ruins,  724. 

Malignant  epidemics,  the  tender  passion  still  alive  dur- 
ing, 520. 

Mammoth  steamship  Great  Eastern  in  New  York  harbor, 
718. 

Managing  his  mob  audiences  in  England,  Mr.  Beecher"s 
tact  in,  843. 

Manassas,  or  Bull  Kun,  battle  of,  780. 

Manchester,  England,  attempts  to  silence  Mr.  Beecher 
in,  837. 

Mania  for  land  invpstraents,  645. 
piracy,  Spencer's,  420. 

"  Manifest  destiny  "  of  the  United  States,  illustration  of 
the.  907. 

Mann,  Hon.  Horace,  372. 

Mansard  roofs  the  cause  of  the  great  Boston  fire, 
932. 

Mansfield,  Gen.,  his  lamented  death  in  the  midst  of 
battle,  799. 

Mansion,  presidential,  its  condition  when  first  occupied, 
170. 

Manuscript  of  the  emancipation  proclamation,  Mr.  Lin- 
coln's, 815. 

Marble  column  erected  at  Yorktown,  Va.,  by  congress, 
110. 

March  to  the  sea,  Sherman's,  868. 

—  upon  Baltimore,  by  the  British,  249. 

— 'b  account  of  Mr.  Webster's  great  speech,  299. 
*'  Maria,"  the  name  of  Gibbs's  piratical  craft,  316. 
Maiio  Antoinette,  Queen  of  France,  gift  from,  to  Gen. 

Washington,  179.  . 

Marine   disaster   never  before   equaled   in    American 

waters,  635. 

—  monster,  the  sea-serpent  or  the,  575. 

Marital  reconciliation  between  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sickles, 

696. 
Marking  the  distance  for  the  duel,  708. 
Marshall,  James  W.,  his  discovery  of  gold  iu  California, 

504. 
Martyred  president,  the,  889. 
Maryland  entered  by  Gen.  Lee's  forces,  798. 


Masonic  ceremonies  at  the  laying  of  the  capitol  corner 

stone,  at  Wa>hington,  171. 
Massachusetts,  Shnys's  rebellion  in,  125. 
Massing  of  opposing  armies  at  Washington  and  Rich- 
mond. 780. 
Masterpiece  of  musical  art  in  America,  818. 
Mastodon,   gigantic,   brought  to  view  by  the  western 

earthquake,  221. 
Matched  against  all  the  chess  celebrities  of  Europe, 

G67. 
Mathew.  Father,  his  visit  to  this  country,  398. 
Mauna-Loa,  explorers  on  the  summit  of,  392. 
McClellan,  Gen  ,  in  command  at  Antietam,  798. 
McCrea,  Miss,  murder  of,  at  Fort  Edward,  73. 
McDoNOUGH's  Naval  Victory  on  Lake  Champlain, 

250-256. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
McDowell,  Gen.,  commands  the  army  at  Bull  Run,  787; 

commencement  of  his  march,  781 ;  a  lost  battle,  783. 
McDuffie,  Senator,  his  advocacy  of  nullification,  320. 
McLean's  farm,  first  and  last  battle  in  the  rebellion 

fought  on,  883. 
MePherson,  Gen.,  formal  surrender  of  Vicksburg   re. 

ceived  by,  823. 
Meade,  Gen.,  in  command  at  Gettysburg;  his  defeat  of 

the  confederate  hosts,  832. 
Means  of  escape,  ingenious,  from  the  earthquake  at  the 

west,  222. 
Measures  for  subduing  the  Penn.  whiskey  insurrection, 

164. 
Mechanism  of  Whitney's  cotton-gin,  157. 
Medals  of  gold  presented  to  the  Japanese  ambassadors 

by  Pres.  Buchanan,  739. 
Mediation  by  means  of  champagne,  594. 
Medical  college,  Boston,  scene  of  Dr.  Parkman's  mur- 
der, 525. 

—  men  exultant  over  the  discovery  of  ether,  457. 

—  treatment  of  Senator  Sumner  in  Paris,  624. 
"Mediums  "  in  spiritual  intercourse,  475. 

Meeting  of  the  Massachusetts  insurgents  in  Shays's  re- 
bellion, 129. 

Somers  mutineers  on  their  way  to  be  hung, 

421. 

Melancholy  celebrity  of  the  Onderdonk  case,  449. 

Melodies  of  America  and  Ireland,  singing  the,  484. 

Melting  of  iron  and  granite  structures  in  the  Chicago 
fire,  927. 

Members  of  the   convention  for  framing  the  Federal 
Constitution,  appearance  of  the,  133. 

Mementos  of  the  Japanese   visitors,  eagerness  to  ob- 
tain, 737. 

Memorial  from  slaves  to  congress,  365. 

Memory  and  modesty,  Morphy's  wonderful,  6C7. 

Menaces  or  blandishments    spurned  by  John    Quincy 
Adams,  303. 

"Mending   the   still,"    Penn.    insurrectionists'    motto, 
162. 

"  Mental  reservations  "  not  now  in  order,  327. 

Merchants'  Exchange  building,  N.  Y.,  the  burning  of, 
354. 

Merciless  ridicule  of  the  electric  telegraph  idea,  348. 

Mercury  and  whiskey  frozen  solid,  530. 

Merrimac,  havoc  done  by  the  iion-clad  monster,  790; 
her  history,  789;  her  discomfiture,  795. 

Message  from  heaven,  reputed  sent  to  Joseph  Smitli, 
307. 

—  between  the  President  and  Queen  inaugurating  the 
Atlantic  telegraph  cable,  904. 

—  to  his  parents,  Spencer,  the  pirate's,  420. 
Meteoric  shower  all  over  the  United  States,  329. 
Meteors,  240,000,  visible  at  Boston.  Nov.  30,  1833,  330. 
MetUod  of  expunging  a  vote  of  censure,  378. 


INDEX. 


991 


Miami,  Indian  battle  on  the  banlis  of  the,  160, 
Microcosm  of  art  ami  sciencte  at  Philadelphia,  952. 
Middlemen  in  trade,  ol>jeutioii  of  grangers  lo,  931). 
Midnight  scenes  of  terror  iu  Chicago  during  the  fire, 

9l!(). 
Mid-ocean  collision,  at  noonday,  of  the  Arctic  and  Vesta, 

610. 

—  union  of  the  telegraphic  cables,  903. 
Midshipman  Spencer's  scheme  of  piracy,  415. 

Mifflin,  Gov.,  of  Pennsylvania,  his  elTorts  to  suppress  the 

whislcey  insurrection,  165. 
Mightiest  worlt  of  utility  ever  achieved  by  man,  910. 
Miles's  division.  Gen.,  at  the  battle  of  Bull  Kun,  781. 
"Militarj'  glory,"  Andre's  expected  reward  of,  100. 
Uilitiamen  meeting  Major  Andre,  98. 
Miller's  exciting  prediction  of   the  second  advent  of 

Christ,  431. 
Millions  of  faces  viewing  the  eclipse,  203. 

money  made  by  a  flash  upon  his  mind,  4G9. 

treasure  sink  with  the  Central  America,  635. 

Mine,  terrible  disaster  at  the  Avondale,  7;>l. 
Mining  operations  in  the  American  El  Dorado,  507. 
Minister  Plenipotentiary,  first,  from  the  young  Republic 

to  England,  119. 
Minnesota,  fight  between  the  Merrimac  and  the,  793. 
Minute  guns  and  tolling  bells  for  the  Princeton  tragedy, 

445. 
Miscalculations  made  by  Comwallis  at  Yorktown,  105. 
Misery  of  the  Irish  during  the  famine,  479. 
Misinterpretation  of  prophetic  texts,  435. 
Mission  of  Commodore  Biddle  to  Japan,  593. 
Mississippi,  earthquake  on  the,  219. 
Missive  from  Santa  Annti  to  Gun.  Taylor,  488. 
Missouri,  earthquake  in,  218. 
INIistake  which  led  to  Arnold's  escape,  100. 
Mob  law  threatened  in  congress,  367. 
Mobile  Bay,  military  operations  in,  860. 
Mock  "  confinement  "  of  Mrs.  Cunningham,  633. 
Modun  operandi  of  the  sewing-machine,  467. 
Mohammed,  comparison  of  the   Mormon  "  Prophet " 

with,  306. 
Moment  (the)  on  which  a  statesman's  life  depended, 

709. 
"  Monarch  of  the  deep,"  the,  578. 
Monarchs  contribute  to  the  International  Exhibition  of 

industry,  601. 
Monarchy  preferred  by  some  officers  in  the  revolution- 
ary army,  115. 
Money  and  rank  unavailing  in  cholera  times,  518. 

—  center  of  America  in  flames,  356. 
Monitor  and  Merrimac,  battle  between  the,  793. 
Monmouth,  battle  of,  114. 

Monongahela  whiskey  district,  excitement  in  the,  160. 
Monroe,  President,  his  invitation  to  Lafayette.  275. 
JMoiister  meetings  of  whiskey  insurrectionists  iu  Penn., 
164. 

—  petition  in  congress,  363. 
Monterey  and  Cberubusco,  battles  of.  488. 

"  Montiily  Magazine,"  thrilling  chapter  in  the,  322. 

Monticello.  tlie  residence  of  Thomas  Jefferson,  292. 

Jlonuuient  iu  honor  of  the  discovery  of  ether,  462. 

Moral  uses  of  the  telegraphic  cable,  905. 

Moody  and  Sankey,  great  revival  movement  under  the 
lead  of,  661. 

Mure  than  four  hundred  lives  lost  by  the  Central  Amer- 
ica disaster,  635. 
three  million  slaves  declared  forever  free,  811. 

Morgan,  Gen.  Daniel,  bravery  of,  in  the  campaign  of 
1777,  76. 

Mormons,  the  rise  and  progress  of  the,  306. 

Morocco,  humiliation  of,  by  the  young  Republic,  188. 

"Moroni,"  the  allege4  ange^  froip  heaven  to  Joseph 
^milh,  307. 


Morphy,  Paul,  the  chess  champion  of  the  world,  666. 
Morri8.sey,  John,  his  prize-liglil  with  Heenan,  081. 
Mou.sK's  Invention  oi-'  tiik  ELiicruio  Telegrai'u, 

345-352. 
(For  topical  and  atiali/tical  details,  see  fust  page  of  tlii» 

Ecent.) 
Mortal  blow  dealt  Dr.  Parkman  by  Prof  Webster,  529. 
Mortal  Duel  hetween    Hon.  Jonathan  Ciller 

AND  Hon.  W.  J.  Graves,  712-714. 
(For  topical  atid  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Mortal  fear  excited  by  the  great  meteoric  shower,  329. 

—  wound  received  by  Alexander  Hamilton,  194. 
Morton,  Dr.,  his  claim  to  the  etlier  discovery,  463. 
Most  grand  and  brilliant  of  celestial  phenomena,  329. 

—  important  state  paper  since  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence, 811. 

—  majestic  musical  demonstration  of  modern  limes, 
923. 

—  perfect  drama  of  blood  in  the  annals  of  crime,  626. 
Mother  and  daughter  choose  a  watery  grave  from  the 

burning  ship,  075. 

—  of  bis  child,  Mr.  Sickles's  tenderness  for  the,  696. 
Washington,  the,  her  parting  words  to  the  Gen.. 

eral,  141. 
Motion  made  by  John  Adams  that  congress  adopt  the 

army  and  appoint  a  general,  113. 
Mount  Vernon,  departure  of  Washington  from,  for  the 

presidential  oflice,  140. 

,  the  Washington  residence,  140. 

visited  by  the  Piince  of  Wales,  759. 

Mountains  tunneled,  rivers  bridged,  on  the  P.acific  rail, 

road  route,  909. 
Mounting  the  fatal  platform,  721. 
Mourning,  universal,  at  Washington's  death,  174. 
Moving  his  troops  across  the  Potomac,  Gen.  Lee,  826. 

—  pillar  of  light  seen  during  the  great  aurora  borealis, 
383. 

Mrs.  Clay,  appearance  of,  the  night  before  the  duel, 
283. 

—  Fremont's  gift  to  the  prayer-meetings,  660. 

—  Tilton's  denial  in  court  of  her  husband's  charges, 
949. 

Mudd,  trial  of,  for  assassination  conspiracy,  898. 
Multiplied  crimes  of  Gibbs,  the  pirate,  319. 
Mvmicipal  centennial  celebrations,  962. 

IVf  URDEE  OF  Dr.  BURDELL,  626. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Murder  of  Dr  George  Parkman,  a  noted  Boston 
Millionaire,  by  Prof.  John  W.  Webster,  of 
Harvard  College,  523-532. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Mirder    of   President   Lincoln   by    J.   Wilkes 

Booth,  887. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Murder  of  Samuel  Adams,  of  New  York,  by  John 

C.  Colt,  531. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Muscular  magnificence  of  Morrissey  and  Heenan,  682. 
Music  Hall,  erection  and  inauguration  of  the  great  organ 
in  Boston,  844. 

playing  by  the  French  troops  in  America,  108. 

Musical  festival  for  five  days  in  Boston,  915. 

—  tour  of  Jenny  Lind,  the  "Swedish  Nightingale,"  541. 
Mustering  the  hands  aft,  Capt.  Semmes,  854. 
Mutiny  on  Board  the  U.  S.  Brig -of- War  Somers, 

415-423. 
(For  topical  apd  Cf,nalylical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 


992 


INDEX. 


Mutual  attachment  between  'Washington  and  Lafayette, 
'275. 

—  friend  chosen  for  the  Clay  and  Randolph  duel,  283. 

—  protection  and  advancement  aimed  at  by  the  gran- 
gers, 939. 

"  My  child !  Tuy  child !  "—cry  of  a  bereaved  mother  at  the 

school -house  catastrophe,  570. 
"  My  Mother's  Gold  Ring,"  394. 

Myriads  of  fire-balls  in  the  heavens,  Nov.  30,  1833,  330. 
Mysterious  dark  day,  89. 

—  disappearance  of  Dr.  Parkman  of  Boston,  523. 
the  comet  in  the  unknown  realms  of  space, 

429. 

—  fate  of  Theodosia,  Burr's  daughter,  211. 


N. 


Nahant  beach,  sea-serpent  seen  by  thirty  persons  at, 

578. 
Narrative  of  the  solar  eclipse,  Cooper's,  197. 
Narrow  escape  of  Pres.  Tyler,  at  the  Princeton  explo- 
sion, 441. 
Narrowness  of  Boston  streets  contributing  to  the  extent 

of  the  fire,  932. 
National  capital  founded,  167. 
—  flags  for  winding-sheets,  441. 
National  Peace  Jubilee  and  Musical  Festival 

FOR  Five  Days,  in  Boston,  915-923. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Efent.) 
Nature,  transition  in,  occasioned  by  the  sun's  eclipse, 
198. 

—'8  secrets  unbosomed  by  the  western  earthquake, 
221. 
Nautical  peculiarities  of  the  mammoth  Great  Eastern, 

743. 
Nauvoo,  the  Mormon  Mecca,  311. 
Naval  Expedition  to  Japan,  under  Commodore 

M.  C.  Perry,  592-599. 
'^For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Naval  warfare  revolutionized  by  the  combat  in  Hamp- 
ton Roads,  797. 
Navigation  by  steam  due  to  American  ingenuity,  212. 
Near  approach  of  the  comet  to  the  sun,  427. 
Nebulous  diameter  of  the  wonderful  comet,  427. 
Neglect  of  all  secular  concerns  by  Miller's  followers, 

436. 
Negroes  not  allowed  to  take  up  arms  in  the  war,  808. 
Ncilson,  Judge,  appeal  to  by  Mrs.  Tilton,  949. 
"  Nel.-ion,"  Washington's  magniticent  charger  at  York- 
town,  107. 
Nerve  of  Admiral  Porter  in  battle,  867. 
Nestor  of  Massachusetts  statesmen,  the,  370. 
Net-work  of  telegraphic  communication  over  the  whole 

world,  -.m. 
Never-to-be-forgotten-scene  in  Hampton  roads,  794. 
"  Never  will  we  surrender  the  ship!  " — Morris's  reply  to 

Buchanan,  796. 
New  constitution  for  Rhode  Island  proposed,  409. 

—  Haven,  view  of  the  auroral  phenomenon   at,  379. 

—  Orleans,  defeat  of  the  British  army  by  Gen.  Jackson 
at.  257. 

—  spectacle  in  the  western  world — inauguration  of  a 
president,  144. 

—  themes  and  actors  on  the  theater  boards,  658. 

—  York  City,  tremendous  flro  in,  353. 

to  San  Francisco  by  rail  in  seven  days,  914. 

New-bom  agent  of  civilization.  899. 


"  New-fangled  craft,"  term  applied  to  Fulton's  steam- 
boat, 212. 

Ncwburgh,  Washington's  farewell  to  the  army  at,  116. 

News  of  Gates's  surrender,  Washington's  reception  of, 
79. 
the  California  gold  discovery,  spread  of  the,  505. 

Newspapers,  banks,  etc.,  destroyed  by  the  Chicago  fire, 
925. 

Niagara,  conveying  the  Japanese  officials  by  the  ship-of - 
war,  739. 

Niblo's  Garden,  Barey's  astounding  performances  at, 
778. 

Nicaraguan  schemes  of  Gen.  'Walker,  751. 

Night  of  terror  for  New  York,  Dec.  16,  1835,  354. 

—  scenes  at  Richmond  on  its  evacuation.  879. 

Nine  out  of  twelve  jurymen  in  favor  of  Mr.  Beecher, 

950. 
"Ninety  and  nine,"  064. 

five  concerts  and  $700,000,  Jenny  Lind's,  544. 

"No  compromise  with  traitors,"  326. 

No  English  flag  on  Lake  Champlain,  256. 

"No  fiddler  ever  known  to  convict  for  murder,"  696. 

—  general  on  the  battle-field,  787. 

—  hand  to  smooth  his  couch  or  wipe  his  brow,  711. 

—  mercy  to  shoot  a  man  in  the  knee,  288. 
"  —  obstacles  to  him  who  wills,"  586. 

—  sunlight  for  one  hundred  and  forty  days,  534. 

—  superiority  in  Morpby's  chess  games  until  after  his 
twentieth  move,  669. 

Nomination  of  Washington  as  General  of  the  Army,  in 

congress,  by  Mr.  Johnson,  of  Md.,  113. 
Noonday  comet,  the,  425. 
North  America  covered,  for  hours,  with  fiery  meteors. 

330. 
Northern  soil  invaded  by  the  confederate  army,  826. 

—  States,  the,  wrapt  in  a  dense  black  atmosphere  for 
fifteen  hours,  89. 

North-west  expedition  of  discovery  by  Fremont,  402. 
Not  a  female  saved  from  the  Arctic's  awful  doom,  615. 

—  able  to  make  the  thing  work,  465. 

" —  guilty."  joy  on  receiving  the  verdict  of,  in  the 
Sickles  case,  695. 

—  much  encouragement  f®r  Dead  Sea  travelers,  498. 

—  to  be  intimidated,  367. 
Novelty  in  naval  combats  in  1779,  83. 
Nucleus  of  a  great  empire  on  the  Pacific,  505. 
Nullification  Outbreak  in  South  Carolina,  320- 

328. 
{Far  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  qf  this 
Event.) 


0. 


"  O  Lord,  my  God! "  dying  words  of  Smith  the  Mormon 

"  prophet,"  312. 
Oak  Ridge  cemetery,  Pres.  Lincoln's  remains  conveyed 

to,  893. 
Oath  administered  to  Washington,  at  his  inauguration, 

144. 
-  to  support  the  Constitution,  Calhoun  taking  the, 

324. 
Object  of  Randolph  in  firing  at  Clay,  288. 
Objections,  religious,  to  the  introduction  of  anaesthetics, 

4"8. 
Ob.ects  contributed  by  crowned  heads  to  the  centennial 

exposition,  9.'8,  959. 
Obliteration  of  streets  in  Boston  by  the  great  fire,  936. 
Obsequies  of  Pres.  Lincoln,  imposing  character  of  the, 

893. 
I  Observations  of  the  total  eclipse  of  the  sun.  200. 


INDEX. 


993 


Observatory  established   by   the  Boutii   pole  voyagers, 

387. 
Obstinacy  of  King  George  in  American  ailairs,  120. 
Obstinate  bras-ery  of  the  hosts  at  Antietain,  805. 
Ooeupation  of  a  foreign  capital  for  tlw  first  time  by  the 

U  S..488. 
Ocean  navigation,  greatest  achievement  in,  742. 

—  spray  covering  the  interior,  during  the  great  galo, 
2G9. 

—  telegraph  cable,  successful  laying  of  the  Atlantic, 
904. 

Odd  Follows,  parade  of  at  the  centennial,  955. 

—  talli  during  the  etherization  process,  461. 
Ode  for  the  centennial  by  Bayard  Taylor,  9G0. 

"  Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven,"— tragic  fate  of  the 
little  ones,  5G8. 

Offense  given  to  South  Carolina  by  Senator  Sumner's 
speech,  617. 

Offers  his  hand  to  Clay,  Randolph,  288. 

Official  commission  appointing  Washington  commander- 
in-chief,  113. 

Ogden's  house  untouched  in  the  midst  of  the  Chicago 
lire,  930. 

Oglesby,  Gen.,  his  interview  with  Pres.  Lincoln,  888. 

"  Oh,  for  four  regiments  !  "—Gen.  Johnston's  exclama- 
tion at  Bull  Run,  787. 

"  Oh,  God !  It  is  all  over,— it  is  all  over !  "—Lord  North's 
exclamation  at  Cornwallis's  defeat,  104. 

"  Oh,  my  poor  mother  and  sisters!  "  612. 

Ohio  valley,  earthqualie  felt  all  along  the,  219. 

Oil  regions  in  Pennsylvania,  etc.,  698. 

O'Laughlin  and  Arnold,  trial  of,  for  assassination  con- 
spiracy, 898. 

Old  and  new :  sewing  by  hand  and  machine,  470. 

—  animosities,  continuance  of,  between  England  and 
America,  119. 

"Old  Ironsides,"  pet  name  of  the  frigate  Constitution, 

225. 
"  Old  man  eloquent,"  the,  term  applied  to  J.  Q.  Adams, 

363. 
"  Old  Osawatomie,"  John  Brown  known  as,  715. 

—  salts  venturing  their  opinions  on  the  results  of  the 
race,  560. 

"Old  South"  church,  Boston,  narrow  escape  of,  from 

burning,  933. 
Olympian  oratory  of  Mr.  Beecher  in  Europe  in  defense 

of  the  Union  cause,  837. 
Omens  of  disaster  to  the  business  world,  645. 
On  a  plank  in  the  yawning  ocean,  640. 

—  his  way  to  the  gallows,  John  Brown,  721. 

—  the  top  of  the  Sierras,  railway  cars,  908. 

"  On  to  Richmond ! " — the  Union  war  cry,  780. 

"  On  to  the  Capital !  "—Scott's  order  to  his  troops,  490. 

—  Utah  Lake,  405. 

Onderdonk,  Bishop,  affecting  death-bed  scene  of,  455. 
One  fearful  shriek  and  all  was  over,  613. 

—  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars  for  a  chance  in  a 
boat,  614. 

elaborate  orations   by  Kossuth  in  his  country's 

behalf,  590. 

thousand  men  on  each  side  of  the  battle,  803. 

persons  made  homeless  by  the  Chicago  fire, 

929. 
yachts  at  Cowes  witness  the  international  regatta, 

561. 
years  ago,  65. 

—  of  the  first  conversions  in  the  great  awakening, 
659. 

—  thousand  dollars  for  a  baby,  632. 

Only  instance  of  the  kind  since  the  Reformation,  448. 
"Only  knocked  down  temporarily,"  769. 

—  occasion  on  which  Jenny  Lind  complimented  her 
own  singing,  544. 

63 


Only  one  boat  of  the  Austria  safely  afloat,  674. 
"Onward,  my  brave  comrades!"  Jeff.  Davis  to  his  troops 

at  Bull  Run,  787. 
Open  polar  sea  discovered  by  Dr.  Kano,  5.37. 
Opening  of  the  attack  on  Fort  Sumter,  and  of  the  great 

civil  war,  705. 

—  the  Mississippi  once  more  to  commerce.  Gen.  Grant, 
824. 

Opera-house  riots.  New  York,  508. 

Opinion  of  the  Massachusetts  rebellion  expressed  by 

Washington,  127. 
Opposed  to  all  unconstitutional  anti-slavery  acts,  Pres. 

Lincoln,  807. 
Opposition  steam-boat  lines,  first,  217. 

—  to  the  tax  laws  in  Massachusetts,  126. 
Oppressions,  British,  complained  of  by  the  American 

colonies,  69. 

Oracular  predictions  of  the  enemies  of  free  govern- 
ment, 8. 

Oration  by  Mr.  Evarts  at  the  national  centennial,  960. 

—  in  France,  on  the  death  of  George  Washington,  180. 
Okatorical,  Championship  of  America's    Cause 

IN  England  by  Rev.  H.  W.  Beecher,  836-843. 

tFor  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  qf  this 
Event.) 

Oratorical  powers  displayed  by  Kossuth,  591. 

Oratorios  and  symphonies  in  Boston  in  honor  of  the  re- 
turn' of  peace,  920. 

Orchestra  of  two  thousand  instruments  at  the  world's 
peace  jubilee,  923. 

Ordeal  of  Burnside's  corps  at  Antietam,  801. 

Order  out  of  chaos,  371. 

Orders  from  England  to  "  lay  waste  "  America,  242. 

—  of  glory  conferred  by  foreign  governments  on  Prof. 
Morse,  351. 

—  to  Union  generals  on  the  treatment  of  slaves,  Pres. 
Lincoln's,  808. 

Oregon,  early  exploration  of,  405. 
— , Fremont's  tour  to,  405. 
Organ,  erection  and  inauguration  of  the  great  Boston, 

844. 
Organic  form  of  government  needed  by  the  U.  S.,  132. 
Organization  of  the  Southern  Confederacy,  765. 
Oriental  visitors  at  the  capital,  738. 
Origin  of  the  duel  between  Clay  and  Randolph,  283. 
Original  magnetic-telegraph  instrument,  347. 

—  pick  and  shovel  used  on  the  Pacific  railroad,  909. 

—  principle  of  the  sewing-machine,  464. 

Orion,  stars  of,  visible  during  the  solar  eclipse,  197. 

Other  side  of  the  picture,  704. 

Out-stretched  forefinger  of  a  century,  the,  10. 

Outburst  of  popular  enthusiastic  greeting  for  Lafayette, 
272. 

Outcaroled  by  the  woodland  warbler,  Jenny  Lind, 
547. 

Outpouring  of  sublime  and  patriotic  music  at  the  Bos- 
ton peace  jubilee,  917. 

Outrages  committed  in  the  Penn.  whiskey  insurrection, 
162. 

Outwitting  the  U.  S.  officials,  751. 

Ovation,  national,  to  Lafayette,  281. 
—3  to  Washington  on  his  journey,  142. 

Overmasterixig  intensity  of  heat  in  the  Boston  fire, 
932. 

Overpowering  quiet  and  solitude  in  the  Rocky  Mount- 
ains, 404. 

Overthrow  of  St.  Clair,  "  Little  Turtle's,"  148. 
the  four  years  gigantic  rebellion,  877. 

Overtures  and  cheers— Henry  Clay  at  Jenny  Lind's  con- 
cert, 548. 

— ,  choruses,  anthems,  etc.,  by  ten  thousand  voices, 
917. 

—  to  Farragut  to  join  the  South,  859, 


994 


INDEX. 


P. 

Pacific  riiilroad,  triumphant  completion  of  the,  907. 
Pageant  in  New  Yoik,  on  Kossutli's  arrival,  587. 

—  of  auroral  splendor  covering  Europe  and  America, 
385. 

Painless  performance  of  surgical  operations,  456. 

Painting  the  eniaucipatiun  event,  Mi-.  Carpenter,  809. 

Pakenham,  Gen.,  his  command  of  the  British  army  at 
New  Orleans,  261 ;  his  fall  at  the  onset,  261. 

Palace  of  glass  and  iron  in  New  York,  602. 
— s  and  hovels  of  Chicago  a  common  prey  in  the  great 
fire,  925. 

Palo  Alto  and  Resaca  de  la  Palma,  battles  of,  488. 

Pang  of  horror  at  Pres.  Lincoln's  fate,  universal,  892. 

Panic  among  the  women,  during  the  California  earth- 
quake, 224. 

Panorama  of  vastuess  and  grandeur  along  the  Pacific 
railroad,  909. 

Papers  discovered  in  Andre's  boots,  99. 

Parents  forsaking  children  and  fleeing  from  the  cholera, 
517. 

Parepa-Rosa,  her  marvelous  performances  at  the  peace 
jul)ilee,  921. 

Paris,  celebration  of  the  American  centennial  at,  905. 

Parkinson's  Ferry,  Va.,  convention  of  whiskey  insurrec- 
tionists at,  165. 

Parkman,  Dr.  George,  murder  of,  in  Boston,  by  Prof. 
J   W.  Web^t  ;r,  523. 

Parliament  acknowledging  American  Independence, 
120. 

— ,  the  British,  stunned  by  the  news  of  Burgoyue's 
capitulution,  80. 

Parliamentary  triumph  of  John  Quincy  Adams,  371. 

Parlor  interview  between  Gens.  Grant  and  Lee,  882. 

Parting  of  Gon.  Lee  with  his  soldiers  at  Richmond,  883. 
— s  and  deaths  on  the  Central  America,  638. 

Partisan  prejudice  disowned  by  the  grangers,  910. 

Parton's  adtniiable  sketch  of  Howe's  invention,  465, 

Pass  from  Gen.  Arnold  exhibited  by  Andre,  99. 

Passage  down  the  Jordan,  the  sacred  river,  495. 

Passage  of  Benton's  Famous  "  Expunging  Resolu- 
tion" IN  THE  U.S. Senate,  after  aTheee  Years 
Pauliaimentarv  Struggle,  373-378. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Passage-money,  first  steam-boat,  210. 

Passing  the  batteries  of  Forts  Jackson  and  St.  Philip, 
8G1. 
royal  yacht,  565. 

Passionate  oratory  of  Senator  Hayne,  299. 

Passions  and  vices  of  human  nature  illustrated  during 
the  cholera  scourge,  .520. 

Past  rivalries  and  animosities  forgotten,  296. 

Patent-office  display  at  the  centennial,  957. 

Pathetic  letter  of  Eli  Whitney  to  Robert  Fulton,  159. 

—  scenes  during  the  Chicago  fire,  930. 

Patriotic  conciliation  in  the  convention  for  framing  the 

Constitution,  137. 
Patrons  of  Husbandry,  941. 
Pavilion  for  women  at  the  centennial,  957. 
Paying  him  their  heaviest  compliments,  864. 

—  83,000  for  the  original  emancipation  proclamation, 
815. 

—  "tribute"  to  the  Barbary  States,  182. 
Payne,  trial  and  execution  of,  for  conspiracy,  897. 
Peabody,  George,  )\U  visit  in  Boston,  921. 

Peace  between  the  United   Statt^s  and  Great  Britain, 

treaty  of,  257. 
*'  Peace  in  Europe  "—first  telegraphic  dispatch  over  the 

Atlantic  cable,  904. 

—  jubilee  and  niusic.ll  festiv.al  in  Poston,  915. 
Peals  of  tliuiider  duiiiig  the  "  park  Pay,"  93. 


Pecuniary  importance  of  mechanical  inventions,  471. 

—  relations  between  Parkman  and  Webster,  524. 
Pemberlon,  Gen.,  his  command  of  Vicksburg,  Miss.,  818; 

his  surrender,  823. 

—  Mills  in  Lawrence,  Mass.,  fall  and  conflagration  of, 
723. 

Pen  with  which  the  proclamation  of  emancipation  was 

written,  807. 
Penal  colonies  of  England  emptied  Into  California,  551. 
Penalty   of  Walker's  fillibuslering  expeditions,  755;  his 

execution  and  last  words,  755. 
rennant  of  the  Alabama,  running  up  the,  854. 
Penning  his  ofiicial  dispatch,  announcing  the  fall  of 

Sumter,  Major  Anderson,  770. 
Pennsylvania  whiskey  insurrection,  100. 
Penobscot  Bay,  visit  of  the  sea-serpent  at,  576. 
Pentecost,  the  American,  659. 
Perkins,  Hon.  T.  H.,  his  near  view  of  the  sea-serpent, 

578. 
Peroration,  impressive,  of  Webster's  speech,  303. 
Perry,  Commodore,  his  capture  of  the  British  squadron, 

234. 
— ,  Com.  M.  C,  his  expedition  to  Japan,  592. 
Personal  appearance  of  Aaron  Burr,  191. 

Brigham  Young,  312. 

Capt.  Hull,  on  ordering  the  Constitution's  fire, 

233. 

Daniel  Webster,  302. 

George  Washington,  ISO. 

Gen.  Jackson  at  the  battle  of  New  Orleans, 

263. 

Gen.  Robert  E.  Lee,  882. 

Gen.  Sherman,  876. 

Gen.  Walker.the  fillibustering  chief,  755. 

Gov.  Kossuth,  590. 

John  Brown,  719. 

John  Quincy  Adams,  369. 

Lawrence,  the  would-be  assassin  of  Pres.  Jack- 
son, 311. 

Morrissey  and  Heenan,  in  fighting  ring,  684.  , 

Prof   J.  W.  Webster,  527. 

Robert  Fulton.  217. 

the  ambassadors  from  Japan,  736. 

Prince  of  Wales,  703. 

—  intercourse  with  Arnold  avoided  in  England,  103. 

—  offering  from  Victoria  to  the  World's  Fair  in  New 
York,  60 ;. 

Personating  Dr.  Burdell  in  marriage,  627. 
Peschka-Leutner,    her   musical   performances  at    the 

World's  peace  jubilee,  923. 
"  Pet  lambs  "  in  battle,  bravery  of  the,  785. 
Petersburg  evacuated  by  the  confederate  army,  879. 
Petroleum   Excitement    in    Pennsylvania,  698- 

706. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  qf  tkls 

Event.) 
Phases  of  the  solar  eclipse  at  the  South,  202. 
Phenomenon  of  terrible  heat  in  the  Chicago  and  Boston 

fires,  932. 
Philadelphia,  international  exposition  at,  952. 

—  occupied  by  Gen.  Howe,  72. 

Phillipps  and  Ole  Bull  at  the  great  musical  jubilee  In 
Boston,  921. 

Philosophy  of  Jlr.  Rarey's method  with  the  horse,  774. 

Photographing  the  total  solar  eclipse,  201. 

Phraseology  of  the  Tycoon's  letter  to  the  President, 
736. 

I'hysico-psychological  phenomena,  wonderful,  472. 

Pick,  the,  that  struck  the  first  blow  on   the  Union  Pa- 
cific railroad,  909. 

Picked  men  employed  by  the  British  against  America, 
251. 
on  board  the  Alabama,  852. 


INDEX. 


995 


Picture  gallery  of  the  nallonal  century,  14. 

Pierce,  Presi<ieut,  inauguration  of  tlio  N.  Y.  Industrial 

Exliil)ilton  by,  605. 
Pi<  icing  and  flnliing  tlio  frigates,  tho  monster  Merri- 

mao,  7;)L>. 
Pilgriniiige  to  tho  tomb  of  a  "  rebel "  general,  the  Prince 

of  Wales's,  759. 
♦'  Pillar  of  salt,  or  Lot's  wife,"  Americana  visit  the, 

499. 
Pinioning  John  Brown  on  the  scaffold,  722. 
Pioneers  in  llie  oil-boring  business,  C99. 
Pipes  of  the  colossal  Boston  organ,  iiuuiense  size  of  tho, 

812. 
Pirate  Gibbs,  his  career,  capture,  ami  execution,  314. 
Piratical  powers,  America  dealing  with  the,  182. 
Piteous  appeal  to  Gibbs,  a  young  girl's,   for  her  life, 

317. 
Pitiable  sights  during  the  burning  of  Chicago,  930. 
Pittsburg  Penn  ,  memorable  conflagration  in,  353. 
Pius  IX..  his  contribution  to  the  centennial,  959. 
Plan  of  government  submitted  by  K;indolph,  135. 
Planets  seen  during  the  total  sohir  eclipse,  202. 
Planting  the  U.  S.  flag  on   the  Rocky  Mountain  peak, 

404. 
Plattsburg  reached  by  the  British,  251. 
Plaudits  and  congratulations  exchanged  for  stampings 

aiid*liisses,  843. 
Playf"!!!   raillery  between  Washington  and  Lafayette, 

101. 
PUying  against  and  beating  eight  rivals,  Morphy  blind- 
folded, 6G8. 

—  whst  at  a  neighbor's,  after  the  murder,  Prof.  Web- 
ster, 530. 

—  with  the  grass  and  flowers,  Grant  and  Pemberton, 
822 

Plaza  of  Granada,  Gen.  Walker  executing  his  old  foe  in, 

751. 
Pleasant  courtesies  between  Webster  and  Hayne,  301. 
Pleasantries  between  Clay  and  Randolph  after  the  duel, 

289. 
Pleasure  tourists  on  board  the  ill-fated  Arctic,  615. 
Plot  to  Dkltver  We.st  Point,  the  Gibraltar  of 

AMEK  CA,   TO  THE  BRITISH,   97-103. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Pluck  of  an  Irishman  in  a  scene  of  horror,  728. 
Commodore  McDonough,  250. 

llump  and  dextrous  retort  by  Beecher  to  the  English 
mob.  811. 

Plunder  of  the  American  capital  by  the  British,  218. 

Plymouth,    Mass.,  appearance  of  the  sea-serpent   at, 
57(5. 

Poem    for  the   centennial   inauguration   by   John    G. 
Wliittier,  952. 

Point  of    exception  taken  by  South  Carolina  to  Mr. 
Sumner's  speech,  617. 

Polar  wonders  discovered  by  the  U.  S  scientific  expedi- 
tion. 391. 

Policy  of  compromise  opposed  by  Mr.  Webster,  325. 

Political  issue  made  in  Rhode  Island,  409. 

Politics  and  dueling  in  America,  707. 

Polk's  proolamati  )n  of  war  with  Mexico,  487. 

Polygamy  •'  divinely  "  introduced  among  the  Mormons, 
312 

Poor  evidence  of  courage,  593. 

—  farmers  becoming  millionaires  in  the  oil  country,  704. 
Popular  interest  of  the  subjects  treated  in  this  volume, 

10. 

—  labor  organizations,  938. 

Portentous   dis^iatch    in  parliament,    Corjiwallis's  sur- 
render, 108. 
Porter,  Admiral,  his  naval  achievements,  860. 
— ,  Gju.  Filz  John,  at  the  battle  of  Autietam,  803. 


Portland   harbor,   magnificence  of,  on   tho    Prince  of 

Wales's  depaiture,  76.!. 
— ,  M,'iini\  vast  dcslruction  in  by  fire,  .353. 
Po-isible  ciusi)  of  the  "  D.irU  Day,"  95. 
Postlni  no  IS  honors  to  I'res.  Lincoln,  891. 
Potomac,   army    of    tho,  reunion    of,   at   Philadelphia, 

955. 

— ,  the  nation.'il  capital  to  be  located  on  the,  168. 
Potter,  John  I).,  the  revival  preacher,  657. 
Pouring   a  broadside  into  the  Bon  Homme  Richard, 

85. 
Powerlessness  of    tho  oflicers  on    board  the    Austria, 

674. 
Practicability  of  painless  surgery  first   demonstrated, 

459. 
Praj-er  at  Pres.  Lincoln's  death-bed.  Dr.  Gurley's,  892. 

—  before  battle,  Com.  McDoiiough's,  on  Lake  Cham- 
plain,  2,''j3. 

meetings  all  over  the  lar.d,  6.')4. 

Preaching  characteristics  of  Win.  ISliller,  4,'!7. 
Precarious  tenure  of  human  life,  impressive  illustration 

of  the.  5C7. 
Precipita'  e  flight  of  President  Madison  from  the  British, 

246. 

—  retreat  of  the  federal  army  at  Bull  Run,  784. 
Precipitated  into  the  abyss  of  destruction,  571. 
Precisely  mistaking  their  man,  307. 
Preparations  for  Christ's  Second  coming,  436. 
Presence  of  mind  during  the  Pemberton  Mills  catastro 

phe,  720. 
Present  of  a  banner  from  Cork  to  Boston,  485. 
Presenting  Kossuth  to  the  American  people,  587. 
Presentment  of  charges  against  the  bishop  of  New  YorV 

448. 
President  Jackson,  attempted  assassination  of,  337. 
's  wrath  aroused,  326. 

—  Lincoln  assassinated  at  Ford's  theater,  by  J.   W. 
Booth,  887. 

Presidential  honors  at  the  White  House,  to  Jenny  Lind, 
645. 

—  reception  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  England's  future 
king.  757. 

Press  and  pulpit  discussions  of  the  "  spiritual  "  phenom- 
ena, 477 

Pressing  her  baby  to  her  breast  and  jumping  from  the 
burning  ship,  676. 

Pressure  of  the  wind  duiinj  the  great  September  gale, 
265. 

Prestige  given  to  American  naval  prowess,  82. 

—  to  American  arms  gained  by  the  victory  at  Kew 
Orleans,  257. 

Presumed  jeopardy  of  half  a  continent,  335. 
Pretending  to  give  birth  to  Dr.  Burdell's  child,  633. 
Pretext,  Aaron  Burr's  alleged,  for  his  suspicious  move- 
ments, 204. 
Price  of  Arnold's  treason,  103. 

—  paid  for  the  original  proclamation  of  emancipation, 
815. 

Prima-donnas  at  the  musical  festival  in  Boston,  917. 

Prince  of  Wales,  his  tour  in  the  United  States,  756. 

Princeton,  battle  of,  114. 
— ,  session  of  congress  at,  168. 

Principle  involved  in  Mr.  Rarey's  wonderful  success 
with  horses.  778. 
—8  and  aims  of  the  grange  societies,  939. 

— s  of  action  governing  the  California  vigilance  commIt> 
tee,  551. 

government  agreed  upon  by  the  federal  conven- 
tion at  Pliila..  1.:7. 

Prismatic  brilliancy  of  the  heavens,  Nov.  13-14,  1837, 
383. 

Prisoners  of  war  at  last,  Gen.  Walker  and  his  «»aiy, 
754, 


996 


INDEX. 


Prize-fight  between  Morrissey  and  Heenan,  681. 

Prize  offered  for  the  successful  yacht  in  international 

regatta,  558. 
Problem  of  steam  propulsion  solved  by  Fulton,  217. 
— s  of  public  policy,  11. 
Proceeds  of  Jenny  Lind's  first  concert  in  America  all 

given  to  charity,  546. 
Processes  and  results  of  industry  revolutionized  by  in- 
ventive skill,  470. 
Proclamation  of  Emancipation  as  a  Wak  Meas- 
ure, BY  President  Lincoln,  807-816. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Prodigious  velocity  of  the  great  comet,  427. 
Producers  and  consumers,  grangers'  view  of,  939. 
Programme  of  the  Boston  musical  festival,  915. 
Progress  of  the  total  solar  eclipse,  199. 
Prohibition  of  slavery  in  the  U.  S,  declared  by  constitu- 
tional amendment,  816. 
Projected   British    invasion    of   the    northern    states, 

250. 
Prolonged  embarrassment  and  distrust  in  the  business 

world,  C52. 
Promises  made  by  Burr  to  bis  followers,  206. 
Promontory  Point,  uniting  the  two  grand  divisions  of 

the  Pacific  railroad  at,  910. 
Promulgating  the    emancipation   proclamation  at  the 

South  814. 
Proofs  of   Lafayette's  patriotism   and    military    skill, 

275. 
Property  seized  at  the  South,  at  the  beginning  of  the 

civil  war,  764. 
Prophecies  of  the  Bible  as  interpreted  by  Mr.  Miller, 

434. 
"  Prophet  of  the  Lord,"  the,  title  assumed  by  the  Mor- 
mon leader,  306. 
— s  of  evil  omen  across  the  water,  8. 
Proposed  location   of  the  national    government  on  the 
Susquehanna,  168;  or  in  New  York,  168. 
—  memorial  tribute  to  Senator  Sumner,  after  the  as- 
sault, 621. 
Prospect  of  awful  grandeur  produced  by  the  great  fire, 

360. 
Prosperity  and  power  of  the  republic  on  its  centennial 

anniversary,  951. 
Prostration  everywhere  of  all    branches  of    industry, 

650. 
Protest  by  John  Quincy  Adams  in  congress,  363. 

Pres.  Jackson,  against  the  senate's  resolution  of 

censure,  375. 
Proud  day  for  America,  107. 
Provisional    peace    between    England    and    America, 

71. 
Psalms  and  hymns  instead  of  polkas  and  opera  songs, 

658. 
Public  services  of  Alexander  Hamilton,  190. 
Publicists'  opinion  of  the  granger  system,  911. 
Pugilism  in  America,  introduction  of,  081. 
Punishment  and  Complete  Degradation  of  the 
Barbary  States  by  the  Young  Republic,  182- 
188. 
{Bhr  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Pure  white  combined  with  vivid  colors  in  the  wonderful 

aurora,  382. 
Purple  tinge  of  the  atmosphere  during  the  earthquake, 

219. 
Purpose  of  the  assassination  conspirators,  887. 
Purses  of  gold  untouched  in  the  face  of  death,  642. 
Pushing  the  line  of  railroad  to  the  Pacific  to  completion, 

909. 
Putting  in  operation  the  first  recording  electric  tele- 
graph, 346. 


Q. 

Quacks  and  nostrums  rife  in  time  of  pestilence,  522. 
Queen    of    England's    interview    with    John    Adams, 

124. 
"  Queen  of  Song."  the,  in  America,  541. 
the  Netherlands  present  at  the  Moody  and  Sankey 

meetings,  662. 

—  Victoria  witnesses  the  racing  match  in  which  the 
America  won,  565. 

Question  asked  Farragut  by  a  lady,  866. 

Mr.  Webster  by   Mr.   Hayne,  and   its   answer, 

303. 

—  of  power  between  the  whites  and  Indians  forever 
settled,  152. 

Quiet  coolness  of  voice  and  manner  in  treating  horses, 

Mr.  Karey's,  779. 
Quincy,  Mass.,  Adams's  mansion  at,  296. 


R. 


Pace  for  the  "  Cup  of  All  Nations,"  in  the  great  inter- 
national regatta,  558. 

Rage  of  the  Turks  against  America,  187. 

Raging  and  furious  animals  made  docile  by  Mr.  Earey's 
system,  774. 

Raging  and  foaming  of  the  rivers,  during  the  great 
September  gale,  265. 

—  tire  niglit  and  day  in  Boston,  933. 
Railroad  to  the  Pacific,  construction  of  the,  908. 
Rain-gauge,  during  the  Sept.  gale,  271. 

—  of  shot  and  shell  at  Antietam,  800. 
Raleigh,  arrival  of  Sherman's  army  at,  875. 

"Rally  round  the  flag!"— troops  at  Vicksburg  singing, 

823. 
Randolph,  John,  his  duel  with  Henry  Clay,  282. 
Rank  held  by  Benedict  Arnold  in  the  British  army, 

103. 
Rapturous  applause  by  Queen  Victoria  on  witnessing 

Rarey's  horse-taming  feats,  776. 
Rare  commingling  of  artillery,  bells,  and  music,  918. 
Rarey,  John  S.,  his  success  in  taming  furious  horses, 

773. 
Ratification  of  the  Federal  Constitution,  188. 
Ravages  of  the  cholera  when  at  its  deadliest  prevalence, 

516. 
Reading  Jving  George's  letter  on  Cornwallis's  surrender, 

109. 

—  his  commissipn  tp  his  ship's  hands,  Capt.  Semmes, 
854. 

coiistiti^ejjts'  petitipn,  in  congress,  Mr.  Adams, 

364. 

—  the  Declaration  of  Independence  to  the  army,  68. 
Declaration  of   Independence  in  Phila.,  July  4, 

1876,  by  Richard  H.  Lee,  967. 

indictment  for  murder  to  Prof.  Webster,  527. 

names  of  the  lost  and  saved,  009. 

Ready  to  rip  themselves  open  for  the  captain's  satisfac- 
tion, 593. 

Real  name  of  Gibbs  the  pirate,  314. 

Reason  for  narrating  the  brutal  prize-fight,  682. 

Rebellion  in  Rhode  Island  under  Thomas  W. 
Dorr,  408-414. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Rebellion,  Shays's,  in  Massachusetts,  126. 

Receiving  Cornwallis's  surrender.  Gen.  Washington, 
108. 

Reception  given  the  Declaration  of  Independence  in 
England,  69. 


INDEX. 


UU' 


Reception  of  Gov.  Kossuth,  the  Great  Hcnoa- 
kiax  kxile.as  the  u  uest  of  the  nation,  583- 

591. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Ereut.) 

Reception  of  the  Japanese  treaty  ambassadors,  733. 

Keck  less  stock  gambling,  051. 

Kccliiiining  the  intemperate,  398. 

Keclamatioii  of  hardened  characters  during  the  relig- 
ious revival,  659. 

Recognition  of  Kossuth  by  his  hat,  587. 

Kecognizing  Parkman's  charred  and  dismembered  re- 
mains, 5'-'5. 

Koconnnendations  by  Pres.  Grant  for  celebrating  the 
centennial,  9.")2,  900. 

Recovery  and   illustrious  career  of   Senator   Sumner, 
6-25. 

Keil-coats,  Gen.  Jackson's  warning  to  the,  263. 

hot  condition  of  the  great  comet,  429. 

letter  days  in  the  century's  history,  9. 

tinted  garniture  of  nature,  Nov.  14,  1837,  380. 

Redness  of  the  sun  and  moon,  May  19,  1780,  90. 

Re-entombment  of  Washington's  remains,  178. 

Retiectiug  over  the  Vicksburg  problem.  Gen.  Grant, 
624. 

Reflection  of  the  comet  in  the  ocean,  426. 

Refusal  of  the  colonies  to  be  unjustly  taxed  by  Great 
Britain,  65. 

Refusing   a   commission   of    major-general,   Sherman, 
876. 

Regatta,  international,  at  Cowes,  558. 

Regenerator  of  Central  America,  title  applied  to  Gen. 
Walker,  750. 

Rt^gular  ocean  steamer,  the  first,  742. 
—8  and  volunteei's  alike  demoralized  at  Bull  Run,  785. 

RiciGN  OF  Tnii  Vigilance  Committee  in  California, 
550-557. 

(/•'or  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  jjage  of  this 
Event. ) 

Reigning  crowned  heads,  visit  of,  to  the  U.  S.,  954. 

Relation  of  the  cotton-gin  to  the  themes  and  events  of 
American  liistory.  159. 

Relative  equality  of  the  Kearsarge  and  Alabama,  850. 

Release  of  U.  S.  sailors  in  Japan  demanded  by  Commo- 
dore Biddle.  59o. 

Relieving  pain  by  the  use  of  ether,  466. 

—  starvation  in  Ireland,  485. 

Religious  devotions  resorted  to  on  the  "  Dark  Day,"  89. 

—  world,  great  awakening  in  the,  653. 

Reluctance   of    Washington  to  accept  the   presidency, 
139. 

Reluctantly  attends  the  theater,  on  the  fatal  evening, 
Pres.  Lincoln,  889. 

Remains  of  Dr.  Parkman  found  in  Prof.  Webster's  labor- 
atory, 525. 

Remark  made  by  Washington  to  Knox,  at  Yorktown, 
107. 

Remedies  proposed  by  grangers  for  business  troubles, 
943. 

Remedy  for  murder  and  arson,  the  vigilance  commit- 
tee's, 551. 

Remission  of  Bishop  Onderdonk's  sentence,  455. 

Removal  of  Pres.  Lincoln  from  Ford's  theater,  891. 

the  deposits,  Jackson's,  from  the  U.  S.  Bank, 

374. 

Rendering  the  verdict  in  Prof.  Webster's  case,  528. 

Rendezvous  of  the  British  at  Ship  Island,  259. 

Renewal  of  the  United  States  Bank  charter,  the  opposi- 
tion to,  374. 

Ki'iio,  Gen.,  his  untimely  death,  804. 

Renovation  of  California  society  by  "  Lynch-law,"  553. 

Renown  of   Rev.  H.   W.   Beecher  as  a  preacher  and 
author,  946. 


Repartee   with  his  English  hearers,  Beecher's  ready, 

811. 
Reply  of  John  Paul  Jones  to  the  British  commander, 
83. 

King  George  to  Jolni  Adams,  123. 

McClellan  to  Burusido's  request  on  the  battle- 
field, 803. 
Reporting  the  battle  of  Antietam,  806. 
Kepo>session  of  Fort  Sumter  by  the  U.  S.,  885. 

REl'UaLlC  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES,  BlBTH  OF  THE, 
65. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  cf  thit 
Event.) 

Repulse  and  retreat  of  the  monster  craft  Merrimac, 
795. 

Reputed  origin  of  Smith's  "  Divine  Records,"  307. 

Requests  for  prayers  at  the  revival  meetings,  658. 

Rescuing  the  women  and  children  on  board  the  Cen- 
tral America,  636. 

Residence  of  Gen.  Washington  in  New  York,  143. 

Resignation  by  Washington  as  Commander  in- 
Chief,  115. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Resignation  of  his  seat  in  congress,  by  P.  S.  Brooks.  623; 
his  inianimous  re-election,  023;  his  speedy  and  ter- 
rible death,  623;  fate  of  his  accomplices,  623. 

Resolution  of  censure.  Clay's,  in  the  U.  S.  senate,  .375. 

Colonial  Independence  offered  by  Richard  Henry 

Lee,  66. 

Resources  of  both  armies  tasked  to  their  utmost  at  Vicks- 
burg, 819. 

Resplendent  auroral  glories  spanning  the  whole  hemi- 
sphere, 382. 

Responses  in  kind  from  embittered  rivals,  509. 

Resting-place  on  his  march  to  the  sea,  Sherman's,  870. 

Restoration  of  peace,  grand  celebration  of  in  Boston  in 
1SG9,  915. 

Results  of  the  cotton-gin  invention,  159. 

Retirement  of  Washington  as  revolutionary  leader, 
112. 

Retribution  for  the  Barbary  States,  183. 

Retrospect  of  the  century's  annals,  11. 

Returning  the  marriage-ring  broken,  093. 

—  to  his  camp  after  his  surrender,  Gen.  Lee,  883. 
Revelations,  alleged,  from  the  unseen  world,  477. 
Reverses  in  the  Indian  wars,  146. 

Revival  movement,  the  great  religious,  653. 
Revolution,  industrial,  produced  by  the  cotton-gin,  159. 
Reynolds,  Gen.,  his  corps  at  Gettysburg,  827. 
Rhapsody  of  Burr  over  his  scheme  of  conquest,  206. 
Rich  men  and  paupers  buried  alike  during  the  epidemic, 

518. 
made  penniless  in  a  single  night,  357. 

—  prizes  taken  by  the  pirate  Gibbs,  317. 
Richardson,  Gen.,  at  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  781. 
Richest  spot  in  America  burnt  to  ashes,  353. 
Richmond.  V.a.,  the  confederate  capital,  capture  of,  by 

the  Union  army,  877. 
Ride  out  to  his  farms,  last,  by  Gen.  Washington,  175. 
Riding  from  the   White   House  to  the   theater,  Pres. 

Lincoln,  889. 

—  through  the  city  of  Richmond,  Pres.  Lincoln,  884. 

—  to  jail  at  night.  Prof   Web.-^ter,  526. 

Rig  and  points  of  the  yacht  America  described,  566. 
Right  of  petition,  the  struggle  for,  302. 
— s  of  political  citizenship   conferred  upon  the  freed- 

men,  816. 
"  Ring  out  the  Old,— Ring  in  the  New  !  "  9. 
l;in;:;ing  the  bell  in  Independence  Hall,  Phila.,  67. 
Rink,  Moody  and  Sankey's  meetings  at  the  Brooklyn, 

004 
Riots  at  the  Astor  place  opera-house,  N.  Y. ,  508. 


998 


INDEX. 


Rise  and  Progress  of  the  Mormons,  or  "  Latter- 
Da  y  Saints,"  306-313. 

{For  topical  eind  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Rising  and  sinking  of  tlie  ground  in  the  great  western 
earthquake,  218. 

—  of  the  water  lo  the  window  tops,  during  the  great 
gnle,  2G5. 

Rites  of  religion    administered  to  the   dying  senator, 

7:0. 
Rivalry  between  the  North  and  South   in  selecting  a 

revolutionary  leader,  113. 
Rlvas  and  Virgin  Bay,  Walker's  battles  at,  750. 
Ko  isting  alive  on  the  steamship  Austria,  676. 
Robinson,  Richaid  P.,  alleged  niurdererof  Helen  Jewett, 

631. 
Rochester,  N.  Y.,  early  spiritual  manifestations  at.  474. 
Rock  oil,  tirst  attempt  to  obtain,  by  sinking  a  well,  G99. 
— y  Mountains,  explorations  of,  404. 
Rogers,   Captain,  commands    the  first   ocean  steamer, 

74:]. 
Roman  Catholic  tribute  to  the  value  of  Mr.  Moody's 

work,  602. 
Root  of  the  whole  financial  diflBculty,  651. 
Rose-colored  clouds  of  Judea  observed  by  explorers, 

491. 
"  Rosliu  Castle,"  played  at  Washington's  farewell  to  the 

army,  116 
Ross,  General,  his  capture  of  Washington,  247. 
Rosy  illumination  of  the  entire  arch  of  the  heavens, 

380. 

—  protuberances  during  the  solar  eclipse,  201. 
Rotunda  of  the  capitol,  Pres.  Lincoln's  remains  in  the, 

893. 

"Round  eleven,  and  last,"  at  the  brutal  prize-fight, 
686. 

Rousing  the  patriotism  of  the  Nicaraguans,  Gen.  Walker, 
749. 
Southern  forces  at  Bull  Run,  781. 

Bout  and  slaughter  of  the  British  at  New  Orleans,  257. 

Rowing  and  warping  in  a  calm,  the  Constitution,  227. 

Royal  civilities  to  John  Adams,  first  minister  to  En- 
gland, 123,  124. 

—  visitors  to  the  first  steamer  fiom  the  U.  S.,  742. 
Rudersdorfl's  musical  performances  at  the  World's  peace 

jubilee,  923. 
Ruins    of    the    Pemberton    Mills,    scenes  among    the, 

725. 
Rule  adopted  by  Com.  Perry  in  naval  battle,  236. 
"Rule  Britannia"— practical  comment  on  by  the  yacht 

"America,"  559. 
Rules  established  by  Washington  for  the  presidential 

office,  145. 

—  observed  on  the  dueling-ground,  193. 
Rulings  of  the  judge  in  tlie  Brooklyn  trial,  050. 
Rum  not  necessary  for  heroism,  401. 
Rumble  of  the  dead-carts  in  the  cities,  521. 
Run  upon  the  banks  for  specie,  619. 

Running  past  the  confederate  batteries,  Farragut, 
8f;2. 

Runyon,  Gen.,  at  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  782. 

Rupture  between  the  two  greatest  of  modern  tragedians, 
509. 

Rush  for  the  spoils  by  the  British  army  in  Washington, 
247. 
— ,  his  account  of  W.ishington's  wr.ath  at  St.  Clair's  de- 
feat, 149. 

Rushing  from  liis  house  in  a  frenzy,  Mr.  Sickles,  692. 

—  out  their  victims  from  the  roof-beams,  the  vigilance 
eommittee,  .557. 

Rtissia  acknowledges  the  independence  of  the  U.  S., 
71. 
— 's  sword  makes  Kossuth  an  exile,  586. 


s. 

Sacking  of    the   presidential  mansion  by  the  British, 

247. 
Sacrament  administered  to  Alexander  Hamilton,  195. 
Sacramento,  Cal.,  great  tire  in,  353. 
Sad  confession  of  her  guilt  by  Mrs.  Sickles,  691. 
Safety  of  Union  men's  lives  under  Pres.  Jackson,  328. 
Sailing  90,000  miles  in  four  years,  386. 

—  under  the  black  flag,  316. 

—  whde  enveloped  in  fuiious  flames,  674. 
Saint  Clair,  his  defeat  by  the  Indians,  148. 

Salvos  of-  artillery,  chords  of  music,  rounds  of  cheers, 

919. 

on  Comwallis's  surrender,  110. 

Salt  Lake  City,  the  Mormon  Zion,  313. 
Samoan  group,  Wilkes's  survey  of,  389. 
San  Francisco,  calamitous  fire  in,  353. 

,  earthquakes  in,  223. 

Sandwich  Islands,  visit  of  the  king  of  the,  954. 

Sanguinary  programme  against  America,  242. 

Sanguine  expectations  of  Lord  Coniwallis,  104. 

Sanitary  fair,  Pres.  Lincoln's  gift  to  the,  815. 

Sankey,  Mr.,  his  popular  religious  songs,  664. 

Santa  Anna's  flight  in  the  dead  of  midnight,  493. 

Sapping  and  mining  at  Vicksburg,  819. 

Saratog.a,  encampment  of  Burgoyne's  army  at,  75. 

Sarcasm  (characterizing  John  Randolph,  283. 

"  Satisfaction"  on  the  dueling-ground,  289. 

Savages  enlisted  by  Gen.  Burgoyne,  73. 

Savannah,  Ga.,  capture  of,  by  Slierm m's  army,  875. 

"Save  the  admiral!   Save  the  adn)iral!  "  865. 

Saving  the  vast  treasures  of  tetate  street  from  the  fire, 

933. 

— s-bank  excitement  in  the  great  panic,  649. 
Scanning    the    b.attle-tield    in    the    midst    of    action, 

McClellau,  803. 
Scarlet  columns  of  dazzling  beauty  rising  from  the  hoi  i- 

zon,  380. 
Scheme  devised  by  Benedict  Arnold  for  betraying  his 

country,  PS. 

—  for  making  Washington  a  king,  115. 

—  to  free  the  slaves,  John  Br.iwn's.  715. 

Scene  of  horror  at  Foid's  theater,  on  the  night  of  the 
a!!S<issination,  891. 

School  house  catastrophe  in  New  York,  567. 

Schurz,  Carl,  his  centennial  oration  at  St.  Louis,  964. 

Schuyler.  Gen.,  his  operations  against  Burgoyne,  75. 

Science,  contributions  to,  by  Wilkes's  exploring  expedi- 
tion. ,380. 

Scientific  perfection  of  the  present  telegraphic  system, 
351. 

—  preparations  for  observing  the  eclipse   199. 

Scope  of  this  volume— wonders  and  prodigies,  mcTi  and 
events,  0. 

Scorching  reply  to  Senator  Butler,  by  Senator  Sumner, 
017. 

Scott,  Gen.,  in  the  Halls  of  the  Montezumas,  487. 

Scourge  of  the  cholera  and  yellow  fever,  518. 

"Scourge  of  the  ocean,"  name  given  to  Gibbs,  315. 

Scouring  the  country  in  pursuit  of  Booth,  895. 

Screech  from  the  confederate  army  on  commencing  bat- 
tle, 828. 

Scriptural  evidence  of  his  views  cited  by  Wm.  Miller, 
437. 

"  Sea  of  Death,"  examination  of  the,  499. 

Tiberias  crossed  by  the  American  explorers,  -195. 

fowls  driven  hundreds  of  miles  into  the  interioi   by 

the  galo,  268. 
serpent,  its  appear.ance  in  several  places,  .'576. 

Seaboanl  destruction  by  the  memorable  gale,  2(i8. 

Scaled  paper  handed  Benton  by  Randolph  before  the 
duel,  285. 


INDEX. 


999 


Sealing  their  fate  at  Cemetery  Hill,  confederate  troops, 

Soaich  by  Americans  for  Sir  John  Franklin,  the  lost 
navigator,  3.13. 

—  for  Dr.  Parkniaii,  llio  missing  millionaire,  524. 

—  made  for  stars  during  ibe  loial  solar  eclipse,  201. 
Seat  of  governmunt,  plans  for  ihu  location  of  the,  1C8. 

the  U.  S.  government  at  New  York,  142. 

war  transferred  fnnn  the  South  to  the  North, 

626. 
Seating  himsflf   in  the  felon's  dock,  Prof.  Webster, 

527. 
Seclusion  of  Japan  broken  into.  592. 
Second  advent  of  Christ  predicted.  431. 

—  ch.tpter  in  the  IJurdellCunningham  tragedy,  631. 
Secret  of  the  gold  tindings  disclosed  through  whiskey, 

505. 
Secrel;iry  Upshur's  instant  and  awful  death,  441. 
Sectarian    prejudice  and  disputation    ignored    by  Mr. 

Mo'idy,  061. 
Secular  pursuits   abandoned  during  the  "Dark  Day," 

89. 
Sedgwick,  Theodore,  president  of  the  N.  Y.  Association 

of  the  Industry  of  All  Nations,  602. 
— 's,  Gen.,  corps  at  Gettysburg,  834. 
Seditions,  violent,  in  New  Kngland,  after  the  revolution- 
ary war,  126. 
Seduction  of  Mrs  Sickles  by  P.  B.  Key,  tragical  result  of 

the,  690. 
Seizure  of  Burr's  flotilla,  207. 
Selection  of  Mr.  Brooks  as  their  champion  by  aggrieved 

Southerners,  618. 
Seminole  Indians,  war  with,  147. 
Senimes,   Captain,  in  command  of  the  Alabama,  851; 

tights  and  is  sunk  by  the  Kearsarge,  856. 
Sending  .John  Morrissey  to  congress,  682;  his  modest  and 

genllcmanly  bearing  there,  688. 
Seneca  Indians,  war  wih  the.  146. 
Sensation  of  a  Peniberton  Mills  operative  on  seeing  the 

vast  structuie  giving  way,  726. 

—  produced  by  the  murder  of  Helen  Jewett,  634. 
— ,  unprecedented,  in  the  religious  world,  448. 

Sent  to  the  bottom  at  last,  the  Alabama,  856. 

Sentence  ot   the   conspirators   against   Pres.  Lincoln, 

898. 
September  gale,  the  ever-memorable,  264. 
Sepulchral  scene  in  the  presidential  East  room,  445. 
Sequel  to  a  life  of  inf.imy,  631. 
Series  of  victorious  battles,  Grant's,  818. 
Serious  objection,  supposed,  to   Whitney's  cotton-gin, 

157. 
Services  of  Aaron  Burr  to  his  country,  190. 
Setting  up  his   government  at  Danville,  Jeff.  Davis, 

884. 
Settling  some  matters  of  ceremony  with  the  Japanese, 

594. 
Seven  circles  bv  the  Alabama  and  Kearsarge  around 

each  other,  855. 
Seven  days'  deliberation  of  the  Brooklyn  jury,  950. 
from  New  York  to  San  Francisco,  914. 

—  fine  children  and  their  parents  jump  from  the  burn- 
ing ship,  676. 

—  States  secede  from  the  Union  and  form  a  Southern 
Confederacy,  771. 

—  years'  labor,  the  Boston  organ  the  result  of,  844. 
Seventeen    British    ensigns    disappear   in  two    hours, 

256. 
Seventy-five  thousand   volunteers  called  for  by  Pres. 
Lincoln,  771. 
three  miles  of  streets  burned  in  Chicago  929. 

—  tons,  weight  of  the  great  Boston  organ.  848. 
Severe  denunciation  of  the  U.  S.  bank  by  Pres.  Jackson, 

374. 


Seward,  Hon.  W.  H.,  Payne's  attempt  to  assassinate, 
897. 

Sewing-machine,  the,  constructed  at  las*,  466. 

Shadowing  forth  tlie  new  political  doctrine,  321. 

Shaking  hands  before  the  tight,  (i8'2. 
with  their  late  leader,  Lee's  officers,  883. 

Shays's  rebellion  in  Massachusetts,  125;  suppressed  by 
Gen.  Lincoln,  131. 

"She  sings  like  one  immortal !"  — applied  to  Jenny 
Uin\,  542. 

Sheet  of  lire  and  death  covering  the  British  at  New  Or- 
leans, 261. 

Sheridan,  Gen.,  at  Five  Forks,  879. 
— 's  splendid  military  capacity,  878. 

Sherman's  grand  march  through  the  South,  868. 

Shifting  his  flag  in  the  midst  of  battle,  238. 

Ship  Arctic  deserted  by  her  crew,  610. 

—  of  war  changed  to  a  ship  of  peace,  481. 
mimed  in  honor  of  Lafayette,  281. 

Shippen,  Miss,  her  betrothal  to  Benedict  Arnold,  98. 
Ships  Serapis  and  Bon  Homme  Richard  meeting  each 

other,  82. 
Shock  and  "  glory  "  of  war  on  a  colossal  scale,  803. 
— s  of  earthquake,  224. 

Shooting  stars,  wonderful  November  shower  of,  329. 
Shore-end  of  the  ocean   telegraph  cable,  laying  of   at 

Valentia  Bay,  904. 
Short  work,  Gibbs's,  with  his  captured  crews,  317. 
Shot  in  the  breast,  Senator  Broderick,  710. 
Shouting  for  the  passing  vessel  638. 
Shovel  used  in  moving  the  first  earth  for  the  Union 

Pacific  railroad.  909. 
Shower  of  meteoric  bodies  all  over  the  land,  335. 
Showing  the  first  grains  of  gold  to  Mr.  Sutter,  505. 
Shrieks  of  horror  at  the  wonderful  meteoric  display, 

330. 
Shrouding  the  land  in  mourning,  April  15,  1865,  892. 
Shuddering  at  the  name  of  Gibbs,  314. 
Shunning  the  magistrates,  prize-fighters,  682. 
'•  Sic  semper  tyrannis  !"  Booth's  tragical  shout,  890. 
Sick  man's  help,  a,  in  battle,  237. 
Sickles,  Hon.  Daniel  E.,  his  homicide  of  P.  B.  Key, 

689. 
Side-light  scenes  in  our  country's  history,  12. 
Sierra  mountain  tops,  first  railroad  across  the,  908. 

—  Nevada,  expedition  to  the,  405. 
Sighting  the  first  gun  before  battle,  254. 

Signals  of  defiance  from  the  frigate  Guerriere,  228. 
Signing  his  name  for  the  last  time,  Pres.  Lincoln,  889. 

—  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  71. 
Federal  Constitution,  137. 

temperance  pledge,  400. 

treaty,  Japanese  and  American  commissioners, 

598. 
Silencing  Mr.   Beecher,  attempts  of  English  mobs  at, 

838. 
Silliman,  Prof ,  his  opinion  of  the  origin  of  petroleum, 
705. 

— ,  — ,  his  scientific  observation,  379. 
Similarities  in  the  career  of  Adams  and  Jefferson.  291. 
Simnii  Boojsen  Nokami  and  Mooragaki  Aw.ijsi  Nokami, 

Japanese  ambassadors,  738. 
Simple  accident  that  led  to  finding  California  gold,  504. 

—  principle  of  the  electric  telegraph,  346. 

Simpson,  Bishop,  devotional  exercises  by,  at  the  centen- 
nial exposition,  952 

Simultaneous  deaths  of  ex-Presidents  John  Adams  and 
Thomas  Jefferson,  291. 

—  shriek  of  agony  from  five  hundred  voices,  636. 
Singer's  loan  of  forty  dollars ;   his  subsequent  princely 

wealth,  469. 
Singing  the  Grand  Hallelujah  Chorus   at  the   World's 
Fair,  605. 


1000 


INDEX. 


Singing  the  "  Old  Hundredth  Psalm  "  at  the  centennial, 
960. 

"  Sink-holes,"  remarkable,  formed  by  the  western  earth- 
quake, 222. 

Sinking  of  the  iU-fated  Guerriere,  229. 

noble  steamship  Arctic  stern  foremost,  610. 

wells  for  petroleum,  700. 

Sisterly  devotion  displayed  at  the  Chicago  conflagra- 
tion, 930. 

Site  for  a  national  capital,  Washington's  preference, 
169. 

Six  feet  of  water  in  the  streets  during  the  great  Sept. 
gale,  268. 

—  bearses  at  the  White  House,  445. 

—  hundred  thousand  temperance  converts,  400. 

—  months  in  court,  the  Beecher  trial,  915. 
'  labor  in  a  garret,  Howes,  466. 

—  reformed  drunkards,  the,  of  Baltimore,  395. 

—  thousand  teams  engaged  on  the  Pacific  railroad,  908. 
voices,  the  capacity  of  the  Boston  organ,  847. 

Sixteen  hours'  raging  fire  in  K.  Y.,  in  midwinter,  353. 
Sixty  centuries  of  human  advancement  illustrated  at 
Philadelphia,  952. 

five  acres  of  massive  structures  consumed  in  Bos- 
ton, 936. 
seven  degrees  below  zero,  536. 

—  thousand  dollars  paid  for  the  great  Boston  organ, 
845. 

voices  cheering  General  Grant,  918. 

Size  and  profusion  of  the  Nov.  meteors,  336. 

—  of  Washington's  limbs,  180. 
Slaughter  of  the  innocents,  567. 

Slaves  liberated  by  Pres.  Lincoln's  proclamation,  807. 

Sleeping  on  the  field  of  victory,  803. 

Slight  source  of  a  wholesale  horror,  568. 

Slocum's  wing  in  Sherman's  army,  871. 

Small  amount  of  gold  in  the  world  prior  to  the  Cali- 
fornia findings,  503. 

Smalley's  account  of  the  battle  of  Antietam,  805. 

Smarting  of  the  hands  and  face  caused  by  the  Dead  Sea 
waters,  497. 

Smith,  Joseph,  founder  of  the  Mormon  sect,  307. 

Smithsonian  Institute,  exhibit  of  at  the  centennial, 
958. 

Social  customs  in  former  times,  394. 

—  intercourse  suspended  during  the  yellow  fever  panic, 
518. 

—  tragedy  in  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  945. 

"  Society  of  California  Pioneers,"  501. 

"  Society  of  the  Cincinnati,"  song  sung  by  Hamilton 

before  the,  192. 
Solar  eclipse,  total,  at  mid-day,  196. 
Solemnities  on  board  the  Somers  after  the  executions, 

423. 
Solemnity  inspired  by  the  total  solar  eclipse,  199. 
Solicitude  of  the  telegraph  layers  on  board  the  Great 

Ea.stern,  903. 
Solid  granite  warehouses  consumed  by  the  hundreds  in 

Boston,  932. 
Solitary  event  in  American  naval  history,  415. 
Solving  the  mystery  of  the  spirit  rappings,  473. 
Somers  mutiny,  the  tragedy  of  the,  415. 
Soiiora  fillibustering   expedition    under  Gen.  Walker, 

748. 
Sore  trials  of  inventors  and  public  benefactors,  467. 
Sorrow  and  anguish  among  the  Austria's  five  hundred 

souls,  676. 
Source  of  national  wealth  and  industry,  new,  698. 
South  Carolina,  enthut^iasm  in,  at  the  passage  of  the 

Declaration  of  Independence,  69. 
nullification  outbreak,  320. 

—  Pass,  Fremont's  party  at  tlie,  403. 

—  Pole  expedition,  Wilkes's,  386. 


Southern  Confederacy,  establishment  of,  765. 

—  strides  in   wealth,  after  the  cotton-gin  invention, 
159. 

Souvenirs  for  his  friends,  Randolph's,  in  case  of  death, 

285. 
Sovereigns  of  Industry,  943. 
Sovereignty  of  the  State,  supreme,  claimed  in  South 

Carolina,  320. 
Spain  acknowledges  the  independence  of  the  U.  S  ,  71. 
Spangler,  trial  of  for  assassination  conspiracy,  897. 
Spanning  the  Atlantic  ocean  with  the  telegraph  cable, 

904. 
Sparkling  tribute  from  John  Bright  to  Mr.  Field's  tele- 
graphic triumph,  906. 
Special  request  that  the  fatal  Stockton  gun  be  fired, 

442. 
Specific  day  fixed  for  the  end  of  the  world,  437. 
Spectroscopic  discoveries  during  the  total  scl  J  eclipse, 

201. 
Speculating  in  "  fancies,"  601. 
Speech  of  Daniel  Webster  in  reply  to  Hayne,  300. 

at  the  laying  of  the  corner-stone  of  the 

Bunker  Hill  monument,  279. 

Dr.  Franklin  before  the  convention  for  forming 

the  Federal  Constitution,  136. 

Gen.  Walker,  before  being  shot,  755. 

Gen.  Washington,  bidding   adieu  to  the    army, 

116. 

,  resigning  his  commission,  117. 

John  Adams  advocating  Washington's  nomina- 
tion, 113. 

on  being  presented  to  King  George,  123;  and 

the  King's  reply,  123. 

John  Brown  in  court,  on  his  conviction,  720. 

John  Quincy  Adams  defending  the  right  of  peti- 
tion, 369. 

King  George  acknowledging  American  Independ- 
ence, 121. 

Lord  Chatham  advocating  America's  cause,  70. 

against  America,  70. 

Patrick  Henry,  on  American  Independence,  66. 

Mr.  Evarts,  orator  at  the  national  centennial  cel- 
ebration, 960. 

Pres.  Grant  at  the  centennial  inauguration  cere- 
monies, 952. 

John  Quincy  Adams,  on  Lafayette's  departure, 

280. 

Preston  S.  Brooks  in  his  defense,  623. 

the  ambassador  from  Japan  to  Pres.  Buchanan, 

739;  the  president's  reply,  739. 

Washington,  at  his  inauguration,  144. 

Speechless  and  unconscious  after  the  fatal  shot,  Pres. 

Lincoln,  891. 
Speedy  fulfillment  of  the  earth's  destiny  predicted,  434. 
Spell-bound  by  Jenny  Lind's  musical  power,  546. 
Spikes  of  the  richest  gold  used  in  finishing  the  Pacific 

railroad,  911. 
Spiritual  Knockings  and  Table-Tippings.   472- 

477. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  parje  of  this 

Event.) 
Spirituous  liquors,  Washington's  opinion  of,  ."^93. 
Splendor  of  the  N.  Y.  Industrial  Hxhibition,  607. 

national  capitol,  172. 

Splicing  the  telegraph  cable  in  mid-ocean,  903. 
Spontaneous  desire  for  Washington  as  first  president, 
139. 

—  uprising  of  the  loyal  people,  771. 
Spontaneousnessof  the  great  religious  awakening,  654. 
Spot  wliere  Senator  Broderick  fell,  707. 

Spots  of  solemn  beauty  on  the  banks  of  tlie  Jordan, 
496. 

—  on  the  sun  observed  before  the  total  eclipse,  200. 


INDEX. 


1001 


Spread  of  the  Boston  Are  in  all  directions,  933. 

temperance  reform,  398. 

Springfield,  Mass.,  Shays's  dispersion  of  the  court  in, 

130 
Springing  a  lealc,  the  steamer  Central  America,  636. 
Squadron  combat  between  America  and  England,  234. 
.Square  talk  by  Farragut  concerning  his  country's  ene- 
mies, 865. 
St  Ix)uis,  disastrous  fire  in,  353. 

,  the  Prince  of  Wales  a  guest  of  the  city  of,  758. 

Stakes  between  the  great  prize-tighters,  081. 
Standards  by  the  score  captured  at  Gettysburg,  834. 
Standing  by  the  batteries.  831. 

—  in  Independence  Hall,  Kossutli,  589. 

Stands  of  colors  presented  by  congress  to  Washing- 
ton, 110. 

Stanton,  Secretary,  at  the  death-bed  of  Pres.  Lincoln, 
891. 

Star  actors,  English  and  American,  tragical  feud  be- 
tween, 508. 

"  Star  Spangled  Banner  "  composed  by  the  elder  Mr. 
Key,  690. 

Stark's  defeat  of  the  British,  at  Bennington,  75. 

—  spurs  at  the  centennial,  958. 

"  Stars  of  destiny,"  Gen.  Walker's  belief  in,  748. 
Stars  seen  through  the  comet's  train,  429. 

—  visible  during  the  eclipse,  197. 

State  occasions,  dress  of  Washington  on,  180. 
street,  Boston,  treasures  of,  reached  by  the  great 

fire,  933. 
Statements  of  eye-witnesses  of  the  sea-serpent,  577. 
States  and  cities  conquered  by  Gen.  Sherman  without  a 

serious  battle,  868. 
Statesmen  and  sages  in  council,  133. 
Stature  and  physique,  Washington's  magnificent,  180. 
Steam  successfully  applied  to  navigation,  215. 
Steamer  Central   America,  foundering  o£E  Cape  Hat- 

teras,  635. 

—  Mississippi  conveys  Kossuth  to  America,  586. 
Steamship  Arctic,  loss  of,  608. 

—  Austria,  burning  of  the,  on  her  way  from  Hamburg  to 
New  York,  673. 

—  Great  Eastern,  arrival  and  exhibition  of  in  the  U.  S., 
748. 

Steel  prow  of  the  Merrimac,  terrible  havoc  made  by  the, 

791. 
Steers,  George,  designs  the  famous  yacht  America,  559. 
Stephens,  Alex. H.,  his  defense  of  the  U.S.  government, 

764. 
Stevens,  Com.  J.  C,  in  command  of  the  yacht  America, 

558. 
Stevenses,  the,  their  success  in  steam-boat  experiments, 

217. 
Stigma  of  "blackleg"  applied  by  Randolph  to  Clay, 

283. 
Stockton's  great  gun  "  the  Peacemaker,"  explosion  of, 

439. 
Stores  and  guns,  supplying  the  Alabama  with,  853. 
Storming  of  Vicksburg  abandoned,  818. 
Storrs,  K.  S.,  centennial  orator  in  New  York, 904. 
Story  of  Gibbs,  the  pirate,  as  told  by  himself,  318. 
the  plaintiff  and  defendant  in  the  Beecher  trial, 

949. 
Strain  endured  by  Rarey  in  his  contests  with  wild  horses, 

779. 
Straining  his  eyes  toward  Fort  McAllister,  Sherman, 

874. 
Stranding  of  a  young  sea-serpent  on  the  coast,  581. 
Strange  and  beautiful  omen  before  the  Lake  Champlain 

battle,  253. 
threatening  motion  of  the  comet,  425. 

—  theories  of  the  cause  of  the  "  Dark  Day,"  95. 
Strategic  importance  of  Vicksburg  in  the  war,  824. 


Strauss's  orchestra  at  the  international  musical  festival, 
923. 

Stray  document  in  the  convention  for  framing  the  Fed- 
eral Constitution,  135. 

Street  encounter  between  Sickles  and  Key,  692. 
—8  and  avenues  of  Washington,  magnificence  of  the, 
172. 

Strength  of  the  American  and  British  fleets  on  Lake 
Champlain,  252. 

confederate  forces  at  Bull  Run,  unexpected, 

781. 

Strengthening  the  federal  capital  on  the  breaking  out  of 
the  rebellion,  771. 

Stringent  statutes  enacted  against  prize-fighting,  681. 

Strong  gale  prevailing  at  the  Chicago  fire,  925. 

Struck  down  in  his  seat  in  the  senate  chamber,  616. 
the  zenith  of  fame,  455. 

Struggle  FOR  the  Right  of  Petition  in  Congress, 
362-372. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Struggles  of  Eli  Whitney  to  secure  Lis  cotton-gin  inven- 
tion, 157. 

Stuart's  picture  of  Gen.  Washington  saved  from  the  Brit- 
ish torch,  248. 

Stubborn  bravery  of  the  Hartford  and  Tennessee,  863. 

Studying  the  principle  of  steam  navigation,  213. 

Style  of  "  sport "  in  the  prize-ring,  683. 

Subjugation  of   New  England  sought  by  England  in 
1814,  250. 

Sublime  and  inspiring  harmonies  from  ten  thousand 
voices,  917. 

Sublime  Meteoric  Shower  all  over  the  United 
States,  329-336. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Submerged  plains  at  the  Dead  Sea  bottom,  498. 

Submergence  of  hills  'and  islands  during  the  western 
earthquake,  221. 

Submission  of  the  Barbary  States  to  America,  188. 

Submitting  the  proclamation  of   emancipation  to  the 
cabinet,  809. 

Subsisting  his  army  on  the  enemy's  country,  Sherman, 
870. 

Substitute  for  grog,  Farragut's,  401. 
middlemen  in  trade,  grangers',  939. 

Substituting  corn  for  guns,  482. 

Success  of  Whitney's  cotton-gin  invention,  156. 

Successful   Laying   of    the    Telegraph   Cable 
across  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  899-906. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Succession  of  vivid  auroras  and  parhelias  in  the  Arctic, 
535. 

Successive  great  and  terrible  waves  drag  the  Central 
America  under,  635. 

Successor  to  Franklin  in  pleading  the  cause  of  the  Re- 
public, 8.36. 

Succumbing  of  Downie's  fleet  to  McDonough,  256. 

Sucked  in  by  the  whirlpool,  637. 

Sudden  and  tumultuous  force  of  the  great  gale,  267. 

Sudden  Appearance  of  a  Great  and  Fiery  Co.met 
IN  THE  Skies  at  Noonday,  424-429. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Sufferings  of  war  ameliorated  by  ether,  459. 

Suffocating  crowds  at  the  Beecher  trial,  945. 

Suffocation  of  birds  during  the  "Dark  Day,"  89. 
nearly  fifty  children  to  death,  573. 

Suffrage   movement   in   Rhode    Island,  principles   of, 
411. 

Suicide  attempted  by  Prof.  Webster  on  being  arrested, 
527. 


1002 


INL»EX. 


Suicide  rather  than  death  by  burning,  728. 

Suit  of  clothes,  machine  made,  the  first  ever  worn,  466. 

Sulphuric  ether  as  an  ansestheiic,  457. 

Sullan,  the,  Lis  courtesies  to  Lieut.  Lynch's  party,  495. 

Summary  of  the  splendid  achievements  of  Dr.  Kane's 

party,  538. 
Summit  of  the  Cordilleras,  the  unbroken  and  oppressive 

silence  at,  388. 
Sumner,  Charles,  assault  upon,  616. 
Sumptuous  banquet  given  by  congress  to  Kossuth,  589. 
Sumter,  Fort,  its  bombardment  and  reduction,  764. 
Sun,  total  eclipse  of,  196. 
Sunday's  battle  olT  Cherbourg,  852. 
Sunken  country,  at  the  west,  caused  by  the  earthquake, 

223. 
Sunny  excitement  and  delight  all  over  the  land  produced 

by  Jenny  Lind's  tour,  541. 
Superb  naval  taciics  of  Com.  John  Paul  Jones,  86. 
Supernatural  pretensions  of  Smith,the  ISIormon  leader, 

307. 
Supply  of  petroleum  oil  for  the  whole  world,  703. 
Supplies  of  men  and  money  by  Franco,  for  the  colonies, 

80. 
Supposed  fire  in  a  N.  Y.  school-house,  dreadful  panic 

caused  by  a,  568. 
Supreme  crisis  in  the  fate  of  the  nation,  771. 

—  rank  of  General  conferred  upon  U.  S.  Grant,  885. 
Surgery-tortures  no  longer  necessary,  456. 
Surmounting  the  works  at  Vicksburg,  Illinois  troops,  820. 
Surprise  of  St.  Clair's  army  by  the  Indians,  148. 
Surratt,  John  H.,  trial  of,  for  assassination  conspiracy, 

898. 

— ,  Mrs.,  trial  and  execution  of,  for  consiiiraoy,  808. 
Surrender  of  Lee's  great  army  to  General  Grant,  883. 
Survey  of  the  river  Jordan,  496. 
Suspension  from  office  of  the  Bishop  of  N.  Y.,  454. 

—  of  banks  all  over  the  land,  648. 

business  during  the  earthquake,  223. 

Sutter's  Mil),  Cal.,  discovery  of  gold  at,  504. 

Swallowing  a  bitter  pill,  328. 

Swamping  of  the  Austria's  boate,  671. 

Swamps,  hills,  quagmires,  storms  and  floods, overcome 
by  Sherman's  army.  875. 

Swarming  of  felons  in  California,  in  its  early  history, 
550. 

Swarms  of  bold  robbers  at  the  fire,  358. 

Sweden  acknowledges  the  independence  of  America, 
71. 

"Swedish  Nightingale,"  the,  name  applied  to  Jenny 
Lind,  541. 

Sweep  of  Sherman's  armed  columns,  871. 

Sweet  and  tender  devotion  of  the  little  ones  in  the 
school-house  panic,  570. 

Swift  and  terrible  destruction  of  frigates  by  the  iron- 
clad Merrimac,  792. 
executions  in  California.  552. 

Sword  presented  by  Frederick  the  Great  to  Gen.  "Wash- 
ington, 180. 

Sympathetic  meetings  in  Senator  Sumner's  behalf,  621. 


T. 


Table-tippings  and  knockings,  472. 

Tableaux  of  a  century's  history,  12. 

"  Take  the  life  of  no  one,  if   possible,"  John  Brown's 

order,  716. 
Taking  his  countrymen  by  the  hand,  588. 

—  off  Andre's  boots.  100. 

—  passage  on  Fulton's  first  steam-boat,  216. 


Tiiking  the  blame  to  himself.  Gen.  Walker,  755. 
oath,  Washington,  at  his  inauguration,  144. 

Talk  of  an  American  with  the  emperor  of  Japan,  599. 

Tampering  with  a  uiau  of  honor,  410. 

Tariff  discussions  and  strife,  321. 

Tarriiigs  and  featherings  in  the  Penn  insurrection,  161. 

Task  of  uniting  the  old  world  and  new  by  telegraph 
cable,  903. 

Taunts  and  curses  of  the  anti-Union  mobs  in  En- 
gland, 838. 

Taylor,  Bayard,  his  centennial  ode,  960. 
— ,  Gen.,  his  unbroken  series  of  victorious  battles,  490, 

Te  Deums  sung  in  Southern  churc  hes  for  battles  won, 
788. 

Teachings  of  the  Mormon  bible,  308. 

Tearing  up  Gen.  Sherman's  protest.  Gen.  Grant,  825. 

Tears  and  mourning,  a  whole  nation  in,  892. 

—  shed  by  Cornwallis,  at  the  fate  before  him,  107. 
Tecumseh,  Indian  chief,  war  with,  147. 

'•  Teetotalism,"  origin  of,  394. 

Telegram  to  Pres.  Grant  announcing  the  completion  of. 

the  Pacific  railroad.  912. 
Telegraph  cable  successfully  laid  across  the  bed  of  the 

Atlantic,  904. 
— ,  invention  of  the  electric,  315. 
Telegraphing  his  fate  to  Jeff  Davis,  Gen.  Lee,  884. 

—  religious  tidings  during  the  great  revival,  056. 
Telescopic  instruments,  splendid,  used  in  observing  the 

eclipse.  199. 

" Tell  Gen  Burnside  that  this  is  the  bittle  of  the  war," 
McClellan's  message.  803. 

Telling  his  own  story.  Gen.  Sherman,  868. 

Temperance  reformation,  the,  breaking  outand  progress 
of,  393. 

Temple  erected  by  the  Mormons,  313. 

Temporary  rescue  from  the  hands  of  the  vigilance  com- 
mittee, 554. 

Ten  hours  of  chess  with  eight  opponents,  Morphy's  tri- 
umphant game  of,  668. 

—  -million-dollar  mass  of  silver  at  the  centennial, 
958. 

—  thousand  persons  assembled  to  welcome  Jenny 
Lind's  arrival,  545. 

—  thousand  persons  present  at  Moody  and  Sankey's 
first  meeting  in  Phila.,  6G4 

—  thousand  singers  in  the  coliseum  at  Boston.  919. 

—  years  of  difficulty  and  failure  in  ocean  telegraphy 
conquered  at  last,  904. 

Tendency  of  the  phenomena  of  spiritualism,  476. 
Tender  butstvong  h.ands,  727. 

—  treatment  of  Mrs.  Benedict  Arnold  by  Washington, 
103. 

Tennessee,  Admiral  Buchanan's  monster  ram,  864. 

Tent  of  Washington,  reception  of  Lafayette  in  the, 
277. 

Tenuity  of  the  meteors  in  the  great  November  display, 
332. 

Termination  of  the  second  war  with  England,  257. 

Terms  of  adjustment  to  be  arranged  by  gunpowder,  488. 
surrender  .allowed  by  Grant  to  Lee,  882. 

Terrible  Cri.sfs  in  the  Business  and  Financial 
World,  644-6.52. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Terrible  Fire  in  the  Business  Heart  of  Boston, 
931-9,57. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Terror  inspired  abroad  by  John  Paul  Jones's  naval  ex- 
ploits, 82. 
— ,  reign  of,  in  Pennsylvania,  during  the  whiskey  in- 
surrection, 163. 

Terry,  Gen.,  his  achievements  at  Fort  Fisher,  867. 


INDEX. 


100 


Terry,  Judge,  fatally  wouiuls  Senator  Broderlck  in  a 

du«l,  710. 
Test  in  brealiing  horses,  Mr.  Karcy's  explanation  of  liis, 

775. 
Tesliinonygis'en  by  Senator  Sun)ner  relating  to  Brooks's 

assault,  ()19. 
Testing  a  treaty  on  the  spot,  598. 
Th mksgiving  appointed  for  Southern  victories,  788. 
That  "  one  touch  of  nature,"  009. 
"  The  battle  of  the  war,"  803. 
"The  Drum,"  Hamilton's  favorite  song,  192. 
The  Ever-Memoradle  Septemuek  Gale,  1815,264- 

271. 
For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
"  Tlie  fate  of  the  ship  shall  be  mine,"  614. 
"The  Federal  Union:  it  Must  be  I'reserved,"  Jackson's 

toast,  3Ln. 
The    "Great    Awakexixg"    in    the    Rfxigious 

World  in  1857;  and  the  Popur.Ait  Hevival  Move- 
ment   (IN    1875-6)    UNDER    Messrs.   Moody    and 

Sankev,  053-6G5. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
The  "Great   Debate"   between   Webster  and 

Hayne,  in  Congress,  297-305. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
"The  Great  Panic,"  644. 
{For  topiciil  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
The  Natio.\.\l  Grange  Movement,  9.38-914. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event. ) 
"  The  Pathfinder,"  Fremont's  well-earned  title  of,  402. 
"  The  ship  is  on  fire  !  "  —  panic  cry  on  every  hand,  674. 
The    solitary    bumble-bee    on    the    Rocky    Mountain 

peak,  404. 
"  The  Star  Spangled  Banner,  "   circumstances  of   its 

composition,  249. 
"  The  Washington  of   the  Seas,"  John  Paul  Jones's 

title,  81. 
Theater,  Ford's,  scene   of  horror  on  the  night  of  the 

assassination  in,  891. 

—  in  Richmond,  Va.,  burning  of  the.  354. 

—  of  war  transferred  from  the  South  to  the  North, 
826. 

—  turned  into  a  house  of  prayer,  658. 

Theodosia,  Burr's  daughter,  her  devotion  to  him,  210; 

mysterious  fate  of,  211. 
Theories  as  to  the  origin  and  source  of  oetroleum,  705. 

—  of    Agassiz.   Herschel,   etc.,    concerning    spiritual 
manifestations,  475. 

Thermometer,  fall  of  the,  during  the  total  solar  eclipse, 

•JOl. 
Thiid  street,  Philadelphia,  during  the  great  panic,  646. 
Thiiteeu  bundled  miles  traveled  in   the  open    air  by 

Kane's  party,  538. 
Thirty  houis'  tornado  of  fire  in  all  directions  at  Chicago, 

929. 

—  minutes  required  by  Hull  to  capture  the  Guerriere, 
229. 

—  years'  history  of  cpiritualism,  477. 

Thomas,  Gen  ,  defense  of  the  bonier  States  by,  870. 

Threatening  letter  sent  by  Arnold  to  Washington,  102. 

Three  cheers  for  a  brave  leader,  490. 

Three  Days'  Battle  between  the  Concen- 
trated Armies  of  Generals  Meade  and  Lee, 
at  Gettysburg,  Tenn.,  826-835. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Three  days'  chase  of  the  Constitution  by  Biitish  vessels, 
227. 


Three  decks  of  the  Austria  instantly  become  a  sheet  ol 
tiro,  t74. 

—  fair  and  beautiful  corpses  tight  together,  728. 
"  Three  hearty  cheers  for  the  tlag,"  423. 

—  hours'   minute  and  deliberate   examination  of  the 
sea-serpent,  580. 

—  hours'  struggle  with  an  English  audience,  Beecher's, 
838. 

—  miles  of  troops  in  flight  at  Bull  Run,  784. 

—  plunges  and  the  noble  ship  sinks,  637. 

—  years'  illness  of  Senator  Sumner,  C2.5. 

parliamentary  struggle,    Benton's,  in  the  U.  S. 

senate.  375. 
Thrill  of  e(  stasy  at  the  sight  of  a  vessel,  638. 
enthusiastic  joy  at  the  success  of  the  ether  dis- 
covery, 457. 
Thronging     crowds  to  hear     Mr.    Webster's    reply  to 

Hay  no,  299. 
Throwing  away  his  purse  of  gold  while  drowning,  614, 

—  up  the  .«ponne  in  token  of  defeat,  (86. 

Throws  his  sword  away  and  jumps  overboard,   Capt. 

Senimes,  856. 
Thunder  of  American  guns  before  Tripoli,  182. 
Tickets  to  Jenny  Lind's  conceits,  highest  pi  iced,  546. 
Tieonderoga.  investment  of.  by  Gen.  Hurgn>ne,  74. 
Tide  of   emigration    to  California  fiom   all  countries, 

501. 

—  seventeen  feet  higher  than   usual  during  the  New 
England  gale,  267. 

— ,  vast  and  unprecedented,  during  the  great  flood, 

269. 
Tidings  of  Washington's  death,  174. 
Ties  of  affection  sundered  while  the  cholera  prevailed, 

517. 
Tilton,  Theodore,  bis  charges  against  H.  W.  Beecher, 

945. 
Time,    manner,   and  circumstances  of   the  first  spirit 

knockings,  473. 
marks  in  our  earlier  history,  10, 

—  to  test  the  strength  of  the  Constitution,  325. 
Timely  witticism  of  Ji  secretary  of  war,  442, 
Times  that  tried  men's  souls,  12. 
Tippecanoe,  battle  of,  152. 

,,'Tls  well,"  Washington's  last  words,  177. 

Title  given  the  president  by  the  Japanese  visitors,  737. 

Tohopeka,  battle  of,  152. 

Toils  of  the  sewing-machine  inventor,  4C6. 

Tokens  of  honor  received  by  Fremont  for  Lis  exploring 
achievements,  402. 

Tolling  of  the  vigilance  committee's  signal  bell,  5.52. 

"  Tom  the  Tinker,"  insurgent  leader  in  Penn.,  163. 

Tomb  of  Washington,  178;  visited  by  Lafayette,  280. 
— s  and  graves  consumed  in  the  appalling  fire  at  Chi- 
cago, 926. 

Tomes,  Dr.,  his  admirable  historical  delineations,  236. 

Tommy,  the  ladies'  pet  among  the  Japanese  visitors,  738. 

Tone,  countenance,  and  manner  peculiar  to  Webster, 
302. 

Too  busy  to  be  marrying  people  in  times  of  epidemic, 
520. 

Topical  or  classified  list  of  events  in  this  volume,  49. 

Torch  of  the  British  vandals  at  Washington,  248. 

Tories,  American,  in  the  revolutionary  war,  69. 

Torrent  of  rain  for  forty  hours,  271. 

Tortiire  and  death  in  every  form,  676. 

Total  revolution  in  naval  v/arfare  by  the  Monitor's  buc- 
ce.is.  797. 

Total  Solar  Eclipse  at  Mid-Day,  196-203. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Touching  reply  of  Captain  Herndon's  wife.  643. 

—  request  of  a  dying  girl  in  the  mid>t  of  the  ruins, 
729. 


1004 


INDEX. 


Touching  scene  between  Washington  and  his  comrades- 
in-arms,  116. 

Tour  of  5,000  miles,  Lafayette's,  in  America,  280. 

Tour  of  His  Royal  Highness,  Albert  Edward, 
Prince  of  Wales,  through  the  United  States, 
756-764. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Towers,  domes  and  sculptures,  of  the  great  Boston  or- 
gan, 848. 

Towns  and  cities  springing  up  in  the  oil  regions,  698. 

Traces  of  Sir  John  Franklin's  melancholy  fate,  534. 

Tracing  the  Jordan  to  its  source,  495. 

Trade-customs'  reform  demanded  by  the  grangers,  941. 

Tragical  death  of  Smith,  the  Mormon  leader,  312. 

—  fate  of  the  conspirators  against  Pres.  Lincoln's  life, 
898. 

Train  of  cars  on  the  top  of  the  Sierras,  the  first,  908. 
Training  for  the  prize-ring,  682. 

Trans- Atlantic  steam  navigation,  inauguration  of,  742. 
Transcendent  beauty  and  power  of  Jenny  Lind's  sing- 
ing, 542. 

—  cliapter  in  human  history,  7. 
Traus-continental    railroad,  successful  construction  of 

the,  912. 
Transferred  from  the  prize-ring  to  the  halls  of  con- 
gress, 682. 
Transition  from  gaiety  to  anguish  in  a  moment,  440. 

joy  to  sorrow,  the  nation's,  July  4, 1826,  291. 

Translating  the  Mormon  bible,  307. 

Transmissive  property  of  the  electric  spark  discovered, 

346. 
Transports  of  joy  on  the  surrender  of  Lee's  army.  885. 
Trapping  an  unsuspecting  official,  fillibusters,  749. 
Treading  the  children  under  foot  on  the  burning  ship, 

674. 
Treason  of  Major-General  Benedict  Arnold, 

97-103. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Treatment  of  Gen.  Burgoyne  by  King  George,  after  his 

surrender,  80. 
Treaty  of  peace  and  commerce   brought   by  Japanese 

ambassadors  in  1860,  732. 
between  the  United  States  and  Great  Britain, 

257. 
Tree  planted  by  the  Prince  of  Wales  at  Washington's 

tomb,  759. 

—  twelve  feet  in  girth  uprooted  by  the  September  gale, 
265. 

ICkemendous  Fire  in  New  York  City,  353-361. 
^For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Tremulous  signature  to  the  emancipation  proclamation. 

Pies.  Lincoln's  explanation  of, 810. 
Trenton,  battle  of,  114. 
Trepidation  behind  the  scenes,  512. 
Trestle  at  Secrettown  on  the  Pacific  railroad,  909. 
Trial  and  Degradation  of  I'wo  Bishops,  for  Im- 
morality, etc.,  448-455. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  qf  this 

Event.) 
Trial  of  Aaron  Burr  for  conspiracy,  204. 

Hon.  D.  E.  Sickles  for  murder,and  bis  triumphant 

acquittal,  094. 

John  Brown  for  treason  and  murder,  720;  his  con- 
viction, 720 ;  is  hung,  722. 

John  C.  Colt  for  the  murder  of  Samuel  Adams, 

531. 

Mrs.  Cunningham  for  the  murder  of  Dr.  Burdell, 

626-634. 

Prof.  Webster  for  the  murder  of  Dr.  Farkman, 

627. 


Trial  of  Rev.  H.  W.  Beecher  for  alleged  adultery  with 

Mrs.  Tilton,  &1.5-950. 
—  Richard  Lawrence,  for  attempted  assassination, 

341. 
Richard  P.  Robinson,  charged  with  the  murder 

of  Helen  Jewett,  634. 

Thos.  W.  Dorr,  for  treason,  413. 

the  assassination  conspirators,  897. 

— s  of  the  early  California  emigrants,  506. 
Tribute  by  Lord  Chatham  to  the  congress  at  Philadel- 
phia, 70. 
Trifling  with  an  old  sailor's  loyalty,  860. 
Trinity  church,  Boston,  destruction  of,  by  fire,  933. 
,  N.  Y.,  its  gift  of  a  Bible  to  the  Prince  of  Wales, 

760. 
Trip  of  the  little  Monitor  from  New  York,  793. 
Tripolitan  ship-of-war  strikes  to  the  American  flag,  183. 
Tripped  by  the  flag  of  his  country,  the  assassin  Booth, 

890. 
Triumphal  journey  of  Washington  to  New  York  to  be 

inaugurated  President,  142. 
Troops  listening  to  the  reading  of  the  Declaration  of 

Independence,  68. 
Trophies  of  Gen.  Gates's  victory  at  Saratoga,  78. 
Truce  requested  by  Gen.  Pemberton,  821. 
Trust  commit' ed  to  Farragut  by  his  country.  860. 
Truxillo,  landing  of  Gen.  Walker's  men  at,  752. 
Trying  to  identify  streets  after  the  Boston  tire,  936. 
Turning  the  tide  of  fortune,  the  little  Monitor,  795. 
Twelve  thousand  tons'  weight  of  the  Great  Eastern, 

746. 

—  years'  old   chess-player   beating  Herr   Lowenthal, 
666. 

Twenty-five  thousand  men  employed  in  building  ihe 
Pacific  railroad,  908. 

—  sudden  and  terrible  blows  on    Senator    Sumnei's 
head,  617. 

—  thousand  rioters  surrounding  the  N.  Y.  opera-house, 
614. 

spectators,  breathless  and  excited,  witness  the 

vigilance  committee's  executions,  557. 
tons'  burden,  the  Great  Eastern's  measurement, 

743. 

voices  in  sublime  choruses,  922. 

Two  days'  speech,  Hayne's  against  Mr.  Webster,  298. 
watch  for  Senator  Sumner,  618. 

—  facts  underlying  Morse's  discovery,  346. 

—  hundred  persons  viewing  tlie  sea-serpent,  580. 

—  little    babes  on  board   the   Central  America,  the, 
612. 

—  names,  the,  ever  fresh  in  American  gratitude,  272. 

—  panics— 1837  and  1857— comparison  of  the.  644. 

—  powerful  bishops  suspended  from  their  office,  448. 

—  thousand  acres  devastated  by  fire  in  Chicago,  929. 
men  extricating  the  Pemberton  sufferers,  729. 

Tycoon  of  Japan,  President  Buchanan's  letter  to  the, 

739. 
Tying  himself  among  the  rigging,  Farragut,  866. 


u. 


Unanimous  choice  of  Washington,  as  president  of  the 
U.  S.,  140. 

—  request  by  congress  to  Lafayette  to  revisit  America, 
275. 

Unbounded  joy  produced  at  tlie  South  by  Whitney's  cot- 
ton-gin, l.'J6. 

"Uiiceitainty  struggling  against  certainty,"  tribute  to 
Moi  pliy's  chi'ss  pbtying,  668. 

"  Unconditional  surrender,"  Grant's  terms,  822. 


INDEX. 


1005 


Uncontrollable  panic  and  headlong  flight  at  Bull  Run, 

784. 
Undaunted  heroism  of  John  Quincy  Adams,  in  congress, 

3l>7. 
Under  oath,  Mr.  Beccher's  solemn  denials,  950. 
*'  Under  the  protection  of  ll>e  flag,"  L'ST. 
Undertaker  and  John  Brown,  conversation  between  the, 

721. 
Undismayed  demeanor  of  Macready  when  assaulted  on 

the  stage,  509. 
Undying  bravery  of  the  troops  at  Gettysburg,  832. 
Unexpected  international  embrace.  Prince  of  AY  ales  in 

an,  760. 
Unfurling  the  sUrs  and  stripes  from  the  Mexican  nation- 
al palace,  493. 
Unheard-of  casualty  on  the  ocean  in  the  case  of  the 

Arctic,  609. 
Unification  of  (he  Republic,  9C8, 
Union  men  on  a  visit  to  Pres.  Jackson,  328. 

—  of  nearly  forty  great  States  in  1876,  951. 

—  -square,  N.  Y.,  magnificent  centennial  display  in,  964. 
United    States    Guinxell   Expeditioks    to  tue 

Arctic  Seas,  533-540. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
United  States,  the,  an  Independent  Nation,  65. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  qf  this 

Event.) 
United  States'  "  tribute  "  to  Barbary,  182. 
Universal  heart  touched  by  these  events,  11. 
Unmistakable  British  origin  of  the  Alabama,  852. 
Unmoved  amidst  the  tempest,  366, 
Unobserved  approach  of  Brooks  to  Sumner,  619. 
Unparalleled  conflagration  in  the  history  of  civilization, 

at  Chicago,  924. 

—  gale  since  the  settlement  of  the  country,  264. 
Unprecedented  spectacle  in  the  halls  of  legislation,  364. 
Unprovoked  destruction  of  Washington's  property  by 

the  British,  247. 
Unrivaled  Performances  by  Paul  Morphy,  the 

American  Chess  Champion,  666-673. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  qf  this 

Event.) 
Unrivaled  tactics  of  the  frigate  Constitution,  226. 
Unscrupulous  character  of  Aaron  Burr,  191. 
Unselfish  cry  of  a  little  girl  in  the  Pemberton  Mills 

ruins,  729. 
Unsheathing  his  sword  to  the  president's  niece,  738, 
Unswerving  fidelity  to  the  old  flag,  860. 
Unusual  appearance  of   the  water  during  the  "Dark 

Day,"  91. 
Upham,  Dr.,  his  grand  conception  of  a  great  organ, 

&44. 
Upwards  of  one  hundred  witnesses  in  the  Beecher  case, 

948. 

thousand  sewing-machine  patents,  470. 

Urgent  appeals  to  Washington  to  accept  the  presidency, 

140. 
Use  of  a  U.  S.  ship  granted  by  congress  to  carry  food  to 

Ireland,  481. 
'.'  Useless,  useless !"— last  words  of  the  assassin  Booth, 

897. 
Uses  discovered  for  petroleum,  706. 

—  of  the  telegraph.morally  considered,  905. 
Ushering  in  the  centennial  ceremonies,  9G0. 
ytah,  the  "  J»romised  Land  "  of  Mormondom,  312. 


V. 


Vain  efforts  to  reconcile  the  North  and  South,  765. 
—  predictions  of  the  enemies  pf  free  government,  8. 


Valentia,  laying  the  shore-end  of  the  ocean  telegraph  at, 
904. 

"Valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  485. 

Valor  displayed  in  terminating  the  great  civil  conflict,878. 

\aluable  improvements  and  modifications  of  the  sewing- 
macliiiie,  469. 

Vanguards  of  the  Gettysburg  aimies  in  action,  828. 

Vapors,  peculiar,  during  tlie  "  Dark  Day,"  91. 

Various  ellects  of  the  inhalation  of  ether,  460. 

Vaunted  wager  of  battle  from  Cornwallis,  104. 

Veiled  statue  in  marble,  beauty  of  the,  606. 

Velocity  of  the  falling  meteors,  Nov.  30,  1833,  336. 

Venango  county  oil  designated  on  ancient  maps,  698. 

Venerable  prelates  charged  with  imnioralitj',  448. 

Vengeance  of  an  outraged  community,  552. 

Vera  Cruz,  Cerro  Gordo,  Contreras,  battles  of,  488. 

Verdict  in  the  trial  of  Lawrence,  the  would-be  assassin 
of  Pres.  J.ickson,  344. 

Vermilion  tinge  to  nature  given  by  the  famous  aurora 
borealis,  383. 

Vessels  driven  through  the  streets,  during  the  great 
g.ile,  265. 

Vetoing  the  bill  for  chartering  the  U.  S.  bank,  374. 

Vicissitudes  of  Burr's  career,  209. 

Vicksburg,  Miss.,  besieged  and  captured  by  Gen.  Grant, 
817. 

Victor  Emanuel,  king  of  Italy,  his  centennial  saluta- 
tions, 967. 

Victoria  acknowledging  the  kindness  of  the  American 
nation  to  her  son,  763. 

Victorious  Race  of  the  Yacht  America,  in  the 
Great  International  Regatta,  558-566. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

"  Victory  or  death,"  Jackson's  watchword  at  New  Or- 
leans, 2C3. 

View  of  death,  Washington's,  176. 

Vigilance  committee  in  California,  reign  of  the,  550. 

Vindication  of  Pres  Jackson,  378. 

"  Vinegar  of  Four  Thieves,"  the  cholera  panacea,  522. 

Violent  attack  in  the  senate  chamber,  on  Hon.  Charles 
Sumner,  616. 

—  defiance  of  the  tax  laws,  in  Massachusetts,  126. 
Virginia,   enthusiasm  in,  at  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence, 68. 

—  war  operations  transferred  to  Pennsylvania,  826. 
Visit  of  Lafayette  to  America,  as  the  Guest  of 

the  Republic,  272-281. 

{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 

Visit  to'Richmond  by  President  Lincoln,  884. 

the  Queen  of  England  by  John  Adams,  124. 

tomb  of  Washington,  Prince  of  Wales's,  759. 

Visits  of  Moody  and  Sankey  to  the  various  cities,  665. 

Vocal  prodigy,  the,  of  modem  times.  541. 

Voice  of  Jenny  Lind  described.  549. 

Volleys  in  honor  of  the  Princeton  victims,  445. 

Voluntary    acknowledgment   of   guilt   by  an   eminent 

bishop,  448. 
Vortex  of  ruin  during  the  Chicago  fire,  925. 
— ,  the  Sept.  gale  like  a  movine,  270. 
Voting  for  the  first  time  for  president,  140. 
Vow  to  God  made  by  Pres.  Lincoln  on  the  emancipation 

question,  811. 
Voyage  of  discovery  to  the  far  southern  sea,  386. 

Lafayette  to  America,  273. 

the  first  steamer,  the  Savannah,  to  Europe  in 

1818,  741 ;  voyage  of  the  largest  in  the  world  to  Amer- 
ica in  1860,  744. 
Voyage  of  the  U.  S.  Ship  Jamestown,  -with  Food 

for  the  Starving  in  Ireland,  479-486. 
{For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 
Event.) 


1006 


INDEX. 


Vulcaneaii  hue  cast   by  tLe    aurora  borealis    display, 
380. 


w. 


Wager  of  $50,000  offered  in  favor  of  the  yacht  America, 
559. 

war  boldly  staked  by  the  South,  7G5. 

Watjner's  centennial  inauguration  inarch,  952. 
W;iil  of  agony  and  despair  on  the  sinking  ship,  613. 

lamentation  and  anguish  at  President  Lincoln's 

death,  universal,  887. 
AVaiting  eagerly  for  the  order  to  fire,  233. 

—  for  news  of  the  steamship  Arctic,  009. 

—  to  announce  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  at 
Pliiladeliihia,  67. 

Walker's  various  tillibustering  schemes,  748. 

Wall  street  New  York,  a  sheet  of  flames,  354. 
, ,  during  the  great  panic,  G48. 

"  Wanted  money,  not  bank-notes,"  28 1. 

Wanton  character  of  British  warfare  in  America,  242. 

Ward,  J.  Q.  A.,  his  elegant  sculptured  monument  in 
honor  of  the  ether  discovery,  463. 

Warfare  on  tlie   ocean  revolutionized  by  the  Monitor, 
797. 

Warning  to  Gen.  St.  Clair  against  surprise,  Washing- 
ton's, 117. 

Warriors,  great  arn)y  of  Indian,  152. 

Washington,   Col.   George,  advocates  American  inde- 
pendence, 66. 

—  Gen.,  farewell  visit  to  his  mother,  140. 

,  first  draws  his    sword  as    commander-in-chief, 

114. 

,  surrender  of  Lord  Cornwallis  to,  105. 

,  his  adieu  to  the  army,  116. 

,  ext.lamatiou  of  on  securing  Burgoyne's  surren- 
der, 79 

—  — ,  —  on  the  news  of  Arnold's  treason,  102. 
,  spurn-i  the  olfer  to  make  him  king,  115. 

,  resigns  his  commission  as  commander-in-chief, 

115. 

,  his  presidency  of  the  convention  for  framing  the 

Constitution,  132. 

,  inaugurated  president  of  the  U.  S.,  139. 

,  rem.irk  of.  on  signing  the  Constitution,  132. 

,  lays  the  corner-stone  of  the  national  capitol, 

170. 

,  death  of,  174. 

— ,  Mrs.  Martha,  wife  of  Gen.  Washington,  at  his  dying 
bed,  176 
Washington,  the  national  capital,  founding  of,  167. 

— , ,  s.icked  by  the  British,  242. 

"  Washiiigtonian  "  temperance  era,  39G. 
Watching  and  wailing  for  a  battle,  2".5. 

—  in  grave-yards  and  on  roofs.  Miller's  followers,  435. 

—  the  land  market  for  bargains,  645. 
Watchword  at  the  battle  of  New  Orleans,  263. 
Water-woiks  at   Chicago,    unfortunate   destruction    of 

during  the  fire,  925. 

Waters  of  the  Dead  Sea  examined  by  Lynch's  party, 
497. 

Wayne,  Gen.,  his  great  victory  over  the  Indians,  147. 

'•  We  have  met  the  enemy,  and  they  are  ours,"— Perry's 
dispatch,  2.'!4. 

"  Wo  must  fight!"— Patrick  Henry's  summons  to  the 
colonies,  66. 

Wearisome  litigation  among  inventors.  466 

Welisler  and  Ilayne's  great  debate  in  the  U.  S.  senate, 

297. 

— ,  Daniel,  lays  the  comer-stone  of  tlie  capitol  exten- 
sion, Washington,  173. 
,  his  splendid  eulogy  of  Lafayette,  279. 


Webster,  D.miol,  unsurpassed  as  an  orator  in  modern 

times,  299 
Webster,  Piof.  John  W  ,  nmrder  of  Dr.   Parkman  by, 

523. 
Weehawken  dueling-ground,  192. 
Weeks  of  stormy  debate  in  congress,  375. 
Weeping  for  their  children,  572. 
VVeit7el,   Gen.,    enters    Kichmond,  the  fallen   capital, 

883. 
Welcome  to  Lafayette,  276. 

Wells,  Dr.,  his  claim  to  the  ether  discovery,  463. 
— ,  effect  of  the  great  Sept.  gale  on,  270. 
— ,  sinking  of,  for  petroleum,  700. 

West  Point  military  academy,  reception  of  the  Prince  of 
W^desat  the,  761. 

to  be  delivered  to  the  British  by  Arnold,  102. 

Western  "  paper  cities,"  645. 

—  rivers,  adaptation  of  steam  navigation  to,  217. 

"  What  hath  God  wrought!"— firstformal  telegraphic  dis- 
patch, 350. 
What  Webster  thought  of  Kossuth,  589. 
Whirlpool  of  excitement  among  the  gold  seekers,  501. 
Whiskey  Insukrection  in  Penksylvania,  160. 

—  jug.  General  Taylor's,  401. 

Whispering  his  farewell  to  the  President,  the  Japanese 

ambassador,  739. 
White  House,  or  presidential  mansion,  description  of, 

170. 

—  instead  of  red  flags,  482. 

—  Plains,  battle  of,  114. 

—  -haired  sage,  a,  rebuking  his  assailants,  367. 
Whitefield's  portable  pulpit  at  the  centennial,  958. 
Wliittier,  John  G.,  poem  for  the  national  centennial  by, 

952. 
Whitney's   Extraordinary    Cotton-Gin   Inven. 

Tio.v,  154-159. 
(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  qf  thh 

Eoent.) 
Wliole  regiments  almost  annihilated,  804. 
"  Whom  can  we  trust  now,"  Washington's  exclamation 

on  healing  of  Arnold's  treason,  102. 
Why  Gibbs  killed  his  captured  crews,  319. 

—  the    proclamation  of    emancipation  was    delayed, 
811. 

Wide  fears  of  a  collision  between  tjie  earth  and  the 

comet,  425. 
Widow    Hamilton's    accidental    meeting    with    Aaron 

Burr,  105. 
Wilcox,  Gen.,  at  Bull  Run,  788. 
Wild  enthusi.asm  of  the  confederates  at  Bull  Run.  785. 

—  shouts  of   approval  of    the  vigilance    committee's 
method,  554. 

—  ,5peculations,  and  enormous  debt,  result  of,  651. 
Wilkes's  exploring  expedition  to  the  South  Pole,  386.  - 
"  Will  nobody  help  my  hrother?"  676. 

"  Will  you  pay  me  my  money?  — yes,  or  no  !  "  650. 

Wil'ard's  history  quoted  from,  414, 

William,  emperor  of  Germany,  his  letter  of  friendship 
to  Pres.  Grant,  067. 

Willing  to  pay  any  price    demanded,  speculators  in  oil 
lands,  700. 

Wilson's  wonderful  sewing-machine  device.  469. 

Winiler  and  Barney's  operations  at  Washington.  243. 

Winslow,  Captain,  in    command  of  the  Kearsarge,  852; 
fights  and  sinks  the  Alabama,  852. 

Wintering  of  American   explorers  in  the  ice-bound  and 
sunless  Arctic,  5.'i4. 

Wintliiop,  U   C,  centennial  orator  at  Boston.  962. 

Wiping  out  a  badstain.  Commodore  Hull's  method  of, 
231. 

Wise,  Henry  A.,  Gov.,  his  tribute  to  John  Quincy  Ad- 
ams, 371. 
,  very  high  opinion  of  John  Brown,  719. 


INDEX. 


1007 


Wit  of  John  Paul  Jones,  in  the  midst  of  battle,  85. 
John  Qiiincy  Adiiius  in  a  scene  of  excitement, 

sec. 

Witlulrawiil   of  the   government  funds  from  tlio  V.  S. 
blink,  :i74. 

Without  a  poor  in  tlio  world,  Morpliy  as  a  chess-player, 
GG9. 

on  Uio  roll  of  modorn  warriors,  Gen.  Sher- 
man, 808. 

Witness-stand,   Mr.    Beecher  and  Mr.  Tillon  on  the, 
949. 

Wives  and  husbands,  adieus  of,  on  board  the  Austria, 
C7G. 

Womanly  courage  on  the  deck  of  the  Arctic,  C15. 

—  di!V0tii>n  of  Burr's  daughter  Thoodosia,  210. 
Women  in  childbirth  helploss  whilo  the  epidemic  raged, 

518. 
Wonderful  Dark  T)xy,  Mat  19, 1780,  89-90. 
[For  topical  and  anali/lical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Wonderful  gate-way  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  403. 
Wonders  of  the  skies.  429. 

" Woi  Id,"  so-called  in  ancient  times,  740. 

Wondrous  mechanism  achieved  in  the  sewing-machine, 

4G5. 
Worden,  Lieut.,  in  command  of  the  Monitor,  793;  his 

splendid  succes.<,  79.i. 
Words,  last,  uttered  by  Gen.  Washington,  177. 

—  penned  by  Pres.  Lincoln,  the  la.st,  889. 
Work  done  by  the  temperance  reform,  394. 
Working  capacity  of  the  first  sewing-machine,  466. 

—  of  the  mind  in  sudden  and  dreadful  catastrophes,  444. 
telegraph,  346. 

—  the  pumps  of  the  Central  America.  C36. 
World's  Peace  Jubilee  and  International  Mu- 
sical Festival,  915-923. 

(For  topical  and  analytical  details,  see  first  page  of  this 

Event.) 
Would  like  to  fight  the  Kearsarge,  855. 
Wouldn't  drink  Captain  Glynn's  sherry,  591. 
Wrapped  in  flames,  the  richest  locality  in  America,  356. 
Wrath  of  Washington,  at  St.  Clair's  defeat,  150. 
Wreaths  and  bouquets  on  the  senator's  coffin,  711. 

—  of  flowers  for  Lafayette,  276. 

Wrestling  single-handed  for  three  hours  with  the  Liver- 
pool mob,  Mr.  Beecher,  838. 


Wright,  Silas,  bis  firm  dealing   with   insurrectionists, 

414. 
Writhing  in  the  fearful  heat  of  the  burning  Austria, 

(;7(;. 
Written  protest  of  Gen.  Sherman  against  Grant's  jilan 

at  Vicksl)urg,  825. 
Wyoming,  massacre  at,  73. 


Yacht  America,  victorious  race  of  the,  558. 
"  Yankee  Doodle  "   played  at  the  Prince  of  Wales's  de- 
parture, 763. 
Yankee  products,  sui  generic,  in  Ireland,  485. 

—  valor  on  the  ocean,  a  fixed  fact,  233. 

Year  of  jubilee  throughout  the  land,  centennial,  951. 

suspense,  cri  ical.  in  the  nation's  history,  138. 

— s  of  bold  aii<l  succes.'.ful  piracy,  (;ibbs's,  314. 
Yellow  appearance  of    the  clouds   during  the  "  Dark 
Day,"  93. 

—  fever  and  cholera  epidemics,  515. 

Yielding  his  sword  at  last.  Admiral  Buchanan,  865. 
Yorktown  chosen  by  Cornwallis  as  his  defensive  post,  105. 
— ,  determined   operations  at,  by  Washington,  Do  Ro- 

chambcau  and  De  Grasse,  105. 
— ,  Gen   Coniwallis's  surrender  at,  107. 
"  You  scoundrel,  you  have   dishonored  my  house— you 

must  die!"  Sickles's  exclamation,  C92, 
Young,  Brigham,  successor  to  Smith,  the  Mormon  head, 

312. 
Youth  and   marvelous  genius  and  triumphs  of   Paul 

Morphy,  6G6. 
Youthfulness  of  Com.  Perry  at  the  time  of  his  splendid 

victory,  241. 


Zeal  of  American  geographical  research,  494. 

Lafayette  for  the  American  cause,  273. 

Zerrahn  Tourjee  and  Eichberg,  leaders  at  the  Boston 

musical  festival,  917. 
Zest  and  good  humor  during  the  Morphy  chess-playing 

era,  G66. 
Zouaves  in  battle,  817. 


THE     END. 


